18th October, 1939

Ashland, Maine, USA

It had been three months since George had first heard about the dreadful murder of the widow and her children and his memory haunted him nightly. Guilt gnawed at his insides turning him into the shell of a man. In recent weeks his life had been transformed when he began accompanying his fellow workers to the tavern for drinks. Now it consumed him, every night he found himself there trying to drown the curse, but still it rose monthly to calling him into the wild, forcing him to give his body over to the wolf for it to roam. He felt even the talisman, which had helped him to maintain control, was no longer an effective means of subverting the beast. It was in the depth of a misery, he sat contemplating his future upon when he first laid eyes on her. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly, as she flashed a smile his way. It was the fist time that he had visit this particular tavern. In an effort to avoid the stares his evening routine was beginning to attract, he had head to the far side of town. Ashland was a smallish place where everyone was known if not personally then at least by some asociation. At least here the people were not so accustomed to seeing him that they would stare openly, some even made an effort to talk with him. And then there was her, she cleared glasses with a manner as though she were somewhere other than a grimy logger tavern, somehow above the dirt, sweat and spilt drinks. Though out the night he caught her looking his way several times, never dipping her eyes when their gazes would met. Her green iris boring into him with such intensity that it was unnerving. It was a long time since he had dared look upon another woman. Once he had been a married man, in love with a lady who made him happy beyond his wildest fantasies. But that was nothing more than another life, a memory of something the curse sought out and destroyed. Since that time he had immersed himself in work, choosing a life of solitude. Downing his drink he stood, the room spinning in protest as he made his way into the cool night air. The walk home cleared his head from the foul fog of beer and for the first time in a long while he felt like a man again. There was something not right about the mysterious woman. He was drawn to her and for the first time since the death of his wife he felt a strange fluttering in his chest. Still he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her.