La Luna

Estelle stared at the dying fire while Kingsley shot worried glances at her face. He could see she’d been crying.
‘You’ll never win,” teased the voice in her head. “You let hatred play with your mind,” it continued, “and you’ll never part with me.”
Kingsley raised his dark muzzle. “Are you alright?” he asked. His voice was low and concerned. Estelle didn’t respond. “It’s tormenting you again,” he said. “Isn’t it?” Estelle nodded.
She ignored the droning voice and stabbed the coals of the once majestic and amazing fire. It was like her; the princess of the biggest tribe in the region, only to turn 12 and have her mother banish her with just a cursed bear, Kingsley, for a companion.
“Stay calm,” he said. “Don’t let it overwhelm you.”
Estelle continued to stare at the coals while her inner voice continued teasing her. Minutes passed and the moon edged over the tree line. The pain would come soon, Estelle thought as she tried to keep her gaze from the moon.
“I’m going to tie you up now,” Kingsley said and carried Estelle over to a tree.
The full moon continued to rise and soon hit Estelle, now fully tied up, with a pale glow.
She screamed.
Agonising pain filled her body. Her face became rigid and distorted. She screamed out at the moon. The scream became a howl. And before long, Estelle was a wolf, blood shot eyes and knife sharp claws. She continued to howl at the moon, begging it to free her from the ropes that bound her to the tree.
Kingsley couldn’t bear to watch the poor creature struggle for its freedom, but he knew Estelle couldn’t cope with knowing she had caused pain to any living thing.
Eventually night became day and wolf became human and Estelle knelt on the ground crying into her hands.
Kingsley laid a comforting paw on her shoulder. Estelle looked up into Kingsley’s reassuring eyes, got up and hugged the bear.
“We should move on,” Kingsley suggested.

Four weeks passed and they reached their destination, a remote crevice below a snow peaked mountain. They began to prepare for the long night ahead. They found a place where they could pitch their tent. It was still light, but only just.
Kingsley was only half way through setting up the tent before he realised the time. Being down so low they hadn’t noticed the sunset and the full moon slowly rising over the mountains. Estelle’s screams had been muffled by the wind and she was already transforming when Kingsley realised what had happened. He released the tent but a pole cut his arm. Visions flashed through his mind, Estelle’s power as a wolf, her incredible killer instinct and how she killed her father on her twelfth birthday.
And that was when the wolf pounced. And Kingsley could do nothing to stop her.

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