Dear Diary

Dear diary, I recall when I was young. I recall when the idea of each New Year, of each new morn was exciting, yet now all I witness before my eyes is what I have lived through.

For some time now, yet none at all, my heart has been aching. My love, my only love… Can you not see? May I yet find a way to show him, to lift him of these torments? Diary, do you not know what I speak of, Of the pain that flows off my fingertips and tears right through this parchment? I should recoil from sharing these messages, but I cannot.

Diary, eight score and six years ago my parents brought me to my first ball. Oh how I treasured the moment when I walked into the room. They were proud to say the least, yet far more so when a young lad above my station held eyes only for me.

He was the most handsome male I had ever seen; yet I was not sure as to how I should react. He was after all wealthy, and son to the Earl.

All night long he danced with ease among many of the young girls, yet every few dances he always returned to my side. Soon he had even asked me accompany him for a stroll outside.

My heart had leapt diary; oh he was so darling. What was I to do when he returned to call on me for courting? I did the only thing my father and I could think of, accept his proposal.

Soon I was with the lad at balls and operas. Each evening was as though the first one. His dark eyes melted me every time I set my gaze upon him.

Then, one eve, the unthinkable happened. The lad left. He disappeared without anyone knowing. His father was furious, and set his eyes on me, blaming me for his departure. I asked him how I could be at fault, and he remarked very cruelly to me. Oh diary I was so distraught! How could he leave me? He swore he cherished me like none other. I wept myself to sleep that evening.

A score went by without him giving anyone word to his whereabouts, even to his pa. My father was soon furious at the allegations and he swore to gain revenge for my dishonoring.

However, out of nowhere a message was sent. It was a letter from my lad, my love. He told me he wished for me to come to him without either his or my pa knowing. My response was short, and I sent it to a place he enclosed in the letter.

Not two scores later, and I was by his side. Yet, my dream was not one for a gentle mind, as I soon found out why he was so eager to learn of me.

I sit here now diary in broad day, my husband in the other room and our children sleeping.

They are tired even in this late of day as am I. Tired of prowling this country side the past eve hunting our meal, and being hunted by royal guard.

The guard got a hold of one of my cubs, and we must now move again before they find out whose blood my son Audin shares. Whose blood is that of a wolf…