The sound of a mother's cry was heard throughout the entire night. More than one, they synchronized into a melody of mourning.

Is it bad of me to prefer this over the silent night?

The bitter cold was forgotten as I, instead, listened to the families plead.

This would mark the seventh day, a week of tears being shed. The next few nights to come will be worse, after all, today is the big event.

People did not know whether to rush the process or to slow it down, prolonging the inevitable. The city gates were open, and the crowd walked through in confusion, not one emotion being able to take over.

My rags were doing nothing for me against the winters cold. My fingers were turning numb, despite the fact they were buried in my pockets. I walked closely by a family shedding silent tears. They were huddling together, I would not be able to guess whether it was for comfort or warmth, but I took advantage of the situation and joined them. No one said anything.

Everyone was dressed their finest and bathed recently, the smell of cheap perfume clouded my senses and caused me to have a sneezing fit.

The family I was with were not impressed.

I was at the back of the crowd, coming at the latest possible time. I did not want to endure hours of waiting.

"Testing." *Tap* *Tap* "Good morning City of Coevah." His bubbly attitude was pissing me off. "As you are all aware, today is the day of the ceremony of the choosing. One lucky person from this city will have the opportunity to participate in the program of instincts. To remind you all of the importance of the program I will give you a brief history of why it occurs every three years."

Many people scoffed. No one here believes there is any importance, besides the entertainment for the turned.

"We are all descendants of Lycans, each and every one of us harbours a gene that allows us to become closer to our instincts, some are stronger than others. We want to allow an opportunity for everyone to turn by extracting it to the surface. This is done by the program. The program will take one person from each of the 8 cities and put them in a setting together where they will all face near-death experiences to trigger that gene and allow them to turn. The werewolf population is dwindling as the gene is becoming more and more oppressed."

I did no realise my rage till I felt warmth in my hand, a strange feeling in the winter. Blood cascades down my fingertips and drops onto the icy floor, flesh hidden beneath my nails.

"So to begin, I have all names of residents who are between the ages of thirteen and forty in this barrel which has been turning the entire time I have been speaking. My beautiful assistant, Claryse, will now draw who will be participating in the program."

Children begin to sob, their silent cries through the ceremony has become vocal.

Partners hold each other, telling themselves that love defeats all and they will be fine.

I roll my eyes, the chance of being chosen is nearly impossible. Despite that, every family cries, and soon, they will all mourn for the one who leaves, the one who saved their loved ones.

Claryse licks her lips as she eyes the crowd, a subtle smirk on her face as she teases. Her hand is in the barrel and goes back and forth, picking up a piece of paper and dropping it. This happens for what seems as forever before she finally settles on one.

"Congratulations to Svenah-Fae. You have been chosen."