Bamburgh. 1723

She didn’t know what led her outside that day. It was as cold as anything and the snow on the ground was ankle deep.

But she had been restless for days and believed a bit of walking around would calm her restlessness. Even though it was most likely to freeze her bones.

She pulled her jacket closer around her and called for her wolfhound who was chasing after a rabbit.

“Here, Dante. I don’t want to lose sight of you.” He stopped in the tracks, eying the path the rabbit had taken, and then went to her side.

Her faithful friend.

And on some days such as that day, when the cold kept everyone locked inside, he was her only friend.

Everyone else was sensible, sitting by a fire and staying away from the frigid.

But then again, not everyone who lived around her was a witch, with a spirit that wouldn’t calm down unless its demands were satisfied.

Wasn’t that why regardless of the fact that she lived surrounded by people she had them all at some kind of distance? Placing her house a few yards away from her surrounding neighbors.

True, it was the Eighteen hundreds, and what she was not unusual, even though it could be scorned. But she could barely remember the last time she felt troubled over the point of view of the people that surrounded her, in regards to what she was, whatever it is, they felt that she was.

Oh, some knew what she was of course. Some others merely speculated. But whatever they believed her to be, as long as it didn’t interfere with her peace, truly didn’t matter to her.

However, the judge in her chest that would t go away, interfered with her peace. Which explained why she was freezing at that moment.

She walked further into the forest, her dog keeping watch at her side as they went. And at the sound of hooves, stopped in her tracks, Dante doing the same.

“You hear them too, don’t you boy?” She asked in a low tone and a growl escaped him.

It was so cold outside and she wondered what anyone would be doing, horseback riding at such a time as this. And by the sound of things, there were many of them.

It made no sense to her because apart from the weather being as cold as Antarctica, these regions didn’t often see visitors. Much less, visitors who came in horses, in what she designated as a troop.

And then she heard it, the gruesome howling of a dog, and Dante howled in response. Her hand automatically went to scratch at his head, And then he whined, tugging at the hem of her jacket with her teeth.

“Oh Dante, I’d much rather not involve myself in this.” She said, knowing what he wanted of her. He wanted her to go to the dog that had howled. And when Dante wanted something, he always found a way to obtain it.

And if she was being honest with herself, she would admit that she was very much as involved in the entire matter as any could be. After all, the fates had dragged her out of the peace of her home, with the insane trouble that persuaded her.

“Oh, bugger it!” She exclaimed when the tugging wouldn’t stop and was joined with whines.

“Let’s go then!” She said to him, and he let out a bark and made to lead the way. And in a final prayer for guidance, hoping that she wasn’t about to get herself killed, she let her dog Lead her.

~•~•~•

She watched as mere men attacked a beast, several times larger than they were.

“A werewolf.” She whispered in astonishment and held on to Dante to keep him from running head first into the scene of a battle that could get them both killed.

Was this what had caused her spirit to be so troubled? A battle being waged between A werewolf and Human hunters?

And what role was she to play in all of it?

She watched from her spot behind a large rock, as the humans came at the werewolf again and again. In spite of the arrows that were embedded in the wolf, still it fought, but even from where she stood, she could see how weakened he was.

She sensed Silver and knew that to be the greatest weapon against any werewolf.

It seemed to her that the Humans had indeed done their assignment.

She watched as a man came subtly behind the wolf, the wolf too caught up in battling those in front of it to notice.

Squinting, she spotted an object in the hand of the tiptoeing closer to the wolf, and it was only when he had successfully gotten closer that she realized what was happening.

“Nooo!” She cried, but it didn’t help. The man was already injecting the wolf.

Silver, more silver. She thought brokenly, and Dante, sensing her anguish, whined beside her.

She didn’t know for sure what the spirits expected of her.

But Enough was Enough.

She couldn’t just stand there and watch as that wolfman got killed by those men. She knew fear, knew how it could control the hearts of men that it leads them to do the very worst of things. She had seen it in her childhood.

“Stay close, Dante.” But he was already charging for a fight. And with her teeth clenched, hoping against hope that this indeed was the reason for her restlessness, and praying she wasn’t about to make things worse, ran to help the wolf man, her dog raging mad beside her.