Book 18: A Curse

Ian

Dad doesn’t like coming to Moonrise. I’ve never outwardly questioned him about it. Mom picks up the slack when it comes to his sometimes strange moments of silence and entirely skeptical behavior. It’s easy to forget what he is and where he’s from. He wasn’t born in the rolling, emerald green hills and valleys of New Glade. He wasn’t born in the sawdust and wheat fields of Silverhide. The gnarled trees of the still- recovering plains of the Deadlands pale in comparison to the land of his ancestors on both sides–Pantharas. 

I’ve never been, but I’ve also never had the itch to travel long distances by boat, especially to a place my dad swore he’d never return to. 

Moonrise, however, is a fine trip. My parents are old school, all things considered. A week spent in wolf form traversing the northern, unpopulated territory of the Deadland