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The Night of the Blood Moon Sky

Dead leaves crunch underfoot as you wander along the forest path. The evening is crisp, the air thick with silence and mist.

Up ahead, a figure emerges from the fog. Tall and dark, they’re making their way deeper and deeper into the woods. You have heard tales of the fathomless forest and you know it is home to creatures beyond your understanding... yet you are intrigued.

Head swimming with twisted curiosity, you follow the stranger as they step away from the well-worn path, turning into the thick of the woods. The forest is dense now, and the trees whisper secrets in your wake. You continue to follow the figure until at last you come to a clearing, illuminated in the ethereal glow of the full moon.

 

 

A soft fur blanket is draped across the forest floor, and the stranger beckons you to take a seat. The lunar glow illuminates them now, and you can make out wiry silver hair shading their dark eyes. The smell of musk, dark bergamot and ancient curses surrounds the air where they stand.

Worry begins to cloud your mind, yet an unknown force wills you to sit, captivated by this mysterious stranger. You set yourself down gently on the blanket and see a picnic lying before you, baskets overflowing with dark forest fruits, perfectly ripe.

The stranger takes a black cherry in gloved fingers and offers it to you, their expression blank. You take the cursed fruit and raise it your lips to smell the sweet flesh, juicy and fresh, but you dare not take a bite.

 

 

The edges of the moon are beginning to flush and the sky darkens midnight as the stranger picks up a glass bottle and pours you a goblet of blood-red wine. You raise the goblet to your lips, inhaling its warmth and bittersweet tartness. You feign taking a drink, but carefully do not allow the liquid to touch your lips. The stranger smiles but it does not extend to their eyes. They rise and turn away.

You look on in horror as their silhouetted form begins to shift beneath their robes, limbs gradually begin to extend and their shape alters, deforming under the wicked moon. With a gasp you drop the goblet, staining the forest floor crimson with regret. Deep in the tormenting throes of transformation, the creature is oblivious to your actions.

With no sense of direction, you begin to run. Attempting to retrace your steps, you stumble over briar and bramble, clothes tear but there is no time to inspect the damage. Barely breathing, you arrive at the edge of the forest and continue your escape through a meadow until your eyes lock onto the warm glow of a village; safety. You exhale and collapse behind a crumbling stone wall.

 

 

Hardly daring to look, you peer over the wall and in the distance you can make out a figure. The sky darkens with rage, the moon blushed with crimson. A wolf; its trembling body coated in silver fur and dusted with scars. It lifts its weary head to the sky and cries out, howling in anguish.

The faint smell of black cherries, musk and mulled wine lingers in the dense air. The moon is stained red with blood, but the werewolf will not curse another tonight.

Close call.

 

If you have an inquiring mind, and sometimes when the moon is full, you still see the wolf in your dreams... take yourself back to that night and reminisce on the enchantment by lighting Blood Moon Sky.

Mood:A werewolf howls in the distance, lifting its dark eyes to the blood red moon and blackened sky. Shimmering silver clouds thinly veil the stars, drifting over the lunar eclipse.

Smells like... Dark bergamot, musk, black cherry and mulled red wine.

 

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