Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy

Curse

July 3rd 2017 in Microfiction

“Ivan, I need a favor,” she asked quietly, sitting down. “How did you know it was me?” the wolf said, sitting off a calculated distance (so that it could it could fight or flee if necessary). “Uh … talking wolf, Ivan’s eyes, that whole “grandmother stunt” is the realm of the practical joker,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “You have the curse.” The wolf’s hackles raised. “Some would call it a blessing,” it huffed. “A gift of speed and cunning – of integrity and freedom.” “Whatever,” she said, pushing the red velvet hood from her face and throwing the beast one of the sausages she’d tucked into her basket. “Is it enough to make life bearable?” she whispered. “When you just turn at the full moon?” “Yes,” the wolf answered without hesitation. “The older wolves can turn at will.” She sighed. “Does it hurt?” “Yes,” the wolf responded, stepping forward, “but it’s not a pain you can recall afterwards, unlike the rest of life.” Red untied her cloak at the neck and extended her arm. “Do it,” she said. “Do it now before I lose my nerve.” The wolf pounced and bit her hard (above the existing scar where some said she had tried to leave her life once before).


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One of them asked me if I knew the ring of power was a deception – cursed – when I put it on.
How innocently the Halflings drive to the heart of our discomfort.
How humbly and yet directly they stare into our eyes awaiting an answer. 

Of course I did.

When you’re older than the moon, you’ve […]

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