Book 19: Burning Moon

Ian

There’s a specific crispness to early fall that’s always put me in a bad mood. At least, I’m sure that’s my problem, seeing as the first frost is incoming, and that means the entire emerald landscape is about to turn a shocking brownish-gold, until the first snowfall, which could be months or days from now, depending on the Goddess’ favor. The hunting is shit here when there’s no cover from the trees. All the challenging animals go into hibernation, which means months of boredom spent hunting rabbits and other small critters that even Mom grows tired of.

Sometimes, I long for the fast-paced lifestyle of Crescent Falls and Moonrise, with their city lights and constant electric hum, but then I spend time there and remember why I, wholeheartedly, do not belong in a city.

The city often finds me, though.