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Saturday, March 21, 2015

Nathaniel's Private E-Journal - August 2005 : "Beginning A New Chapter..."


Summer in West Virginia hasn't changed all that much in a hundred and fifty years and tonight is no exception.  It hit the upper 80's which in and of itself isn't so bad, but the humidity makes it feel much worse.  Brian and his family are out of town, so I spent part of the evening with Jack, the town's physician, and his family.  They know my secret and have kept it to themselves for the past one hundred and twenty years.  It was nice spending time with his mother and grandmother.  As much as time has passed I still see them both as little girls who I used to take up into the evening sky on a warm summer night.  

But only when the sky was clear.  Tonight there are clouds overhead so I can't even enjoy the stars.  I'd have spent the rest of the evening with Jack and his family, but they were hosting a party with others from out of town and I didn't want some of our conversations overheard, so I left early and headed to The Crypt.

One of the nice things about having a private club that's located in the basement level of an old building is that it doesn't get too hot down there and I'm not the only one who knows this fact.  Even before I turned down the alley and reached the stairs that led down into my club, I could hear the music playing, accompanied by laughter and cheering.  


Upon opening the door I find the room is full bodies gyrating to the latest hit tunes my new disc jockey is playing.  He goes by the name of Scar-Man due to on old wound that runs from his forehead and across his face.  Thank God I got to him in time, otherwise it could've been a lot worse.  I've offered to help him get it fixed but he always refuses.  "I need to remember where I've been... so I don't forget where I'm goin'," he always tells me, so I leave it at that.

He spots me from across the room and gives me a questioning look.  Some nights I like to make a grand entrance, other times I don't.  Tonight is one of the latter.  Instead I find myself in a reflective mood and give a little shake to my head.  He nods and keeps the party going.

I quietly make my way through the crowd in my own unique way.  I pass between bodies that only a fly could navigate without anyone noticing.  Soon I've reached a dark quiet corner of the room where I can observe without being noticed.  There is a table here and I settle in and let my eyes roam.  Oddly enough they fall upon one of the old vaudeville posters I have lining my wall.  My mind begins thinking about how things were back in the 1910's and the 1920's.  Without realizing it, my eyes swing back to the crowd on the dance floor and I see something wondrous.  My eyes are clearly seeing the young people moving back and forth, flirting, and kissing and having a wonderful time.  Yet in the same moment in my mind I'm seeing another image super-imposed over them.  I see uniforms from bygone eras.  One moment I see the Union blue, then the brown ones we wore back in World War I, in another instant I'm seeing the dresses become flapper style, while the young men are decked out in the old Zoot suits.


The styles continue to change, yet the emotions and feelings are still the same as I watch the figures both before me and in my memories.  Something stirs within me as I stare.  Soon I leave my little corner of the club and head upstairs.  Normally, I'd take the actual stairs themselves, but tonight I take my 'mist' form and head upwards until I reach the door that leads to my art studio and slip through the open transom above it.

Once inside my artistic sanctuary I solidify and stare around at my surroundings.  Canvasses, both finished and still under way, line the floor and walls.  




I soon find myself studying each one intently.  My mind begins to think back to when I created each one and the story that led to their creation.  But more than just the stories return, so do the emotions that inspired the imagery.  Before long I find myself exploring where those stories and feelings began which culminated in these artworks.  I've often heard people say, "I wonder what the story is behind this art piece..."   Well, I know each and every story behind my works.  Some of them are simple, others could fill page upon page of a number of books.  

"And I'm the only one who still knows most of them..." I murmur to myself as new thoughts enter my mind.  "Do I dare..." I whisper to the silence that surrounds me.

TO BE CONTINUED...








Sunday, March 15, 2015

Lisa's Private Thoughts - March 15, 2015 "Never Forgotten..."

*A note from the author: Terry Pratchett has long been one of my all time favorite authors.  He's made me laugh and think so often it never ceases to amaze me.  It's  because of him there are so many moments of laughter in my own work, but never enough to distract from the main storyline.  However, I've never reached the levels of hilarity and pointedness he could.  With his passing this week, I knew I had to do some kind of entry to say how much he and his work influenced me.  I struggled with how to come up with something to say, when I remembered Nathaniel who has been around for so long and has known so many people.  So, through him I share some thoughts and feelings on the passing of a wondrous author, as well as provide more insight into my vampyre and what makes him so special sometimes.  I hope you enjoy.*


My last class of the day got cancelled over at New River Tech, which is also where my dad teaches.   Marisa still had some classes as well, but I didn't feel like hanging around the campus.  So I decided to go and hang out over at Nathan's place.  He was probably still resting down in the ground, but at least I'd be there when he got up.



You can imagine my surprise when I got to his place and found he was up and about in the middle of the afternoon.  I found him sitting on the floor with his back me, with a bunch of books laid out in front of him. Surprisingly, none of them were the old worn hardback kind that lined the walls of the room.   Instead, these were all paperbacks, some going back as far as the 1980's.

Naturally, this piqued my curiosity so I quietly went over to him and took a look at the covers.  They were colorful with amusing artwork.  All of them were by the same author... Terry Pratchett. 


Immediately my heart sank.  "Did he...?" 

Nathan nodded.  "It was all over the internet this morning," he sighed and looked up at me.  "I'm surprised you didn't already know."

"Marisa and I have a dance class at 8:00 AM, so I didn't have a chance to get online," I replied and sat down next to him.  As soon as I settled in, I rested my head against his shoulder.  "I remember when you introduced us to him when we went to England with you.  He was really nice. I like him."

"He was amazing," Nathan smiled.  "Not that he thought it, but you, me and a lot of other people out there did."

"At least we have his books and stories to remember him," I pointed out.  

"I have a lot more than that," Nathan said with a smile that aroused my curiosity.  

"Oh? What did you two have wild night together or something?" I asked innocently, while batting my eyes at him.

"We had a few nights where... HEY!" as cut himself off as the penny finally dropped.

I was still laughing at his reaction as he desperately tried to explain that nothing 'unnatural' as he put it, ever happened between the two of them.  "We just had a few good laughs together, that's all," he  finished with scowl that was not remotely intimidating.

Taking his hand I squeezed it and said more seriously, "I know it's hard losing another friend.  It's not something you ever get used to, is it?  No matter how long you've been around."

"No, it isn't," he said quietly, as that curious smile suddenly reappeared on his face.  "But, I can take solace in the fact that for me they're never really gone.  My memories are different than most people's."

"How so?" I asked curiously.

For a moment he didn't answer.  Instead he seemed to be gathering his thoughts and then said, "T think Terry put it best when he said..."


"Now most people, can recall a number of things from their past.  But I can recall everything!"

I stared at him in wonder for a moment.  "Everything?" I repeated.

He nodded.  "Our brains are taking in all kinds of information all the time.  The feel of the breeze on our skin, someone's smile, how it felt to kiss a person you've longed for the first time, the works.  But it's so hard to remember every little detail."

"I can remember a lot of things," I pointed out.  

"Of that I'm certain, but how hard is it to remember all the things that you saw and witnessed in 1999?"

I started to say something then stopped.  "You mean, in the entire year?  Everything I saw or did within that time?"

He nodded.

Blinking I shook my head.  "No, I don't think I could.  I've probably forgotten most of it."

At that point Nathan shook his head, "No you haven't.  It's all there, but it's stashed away in different areas of the brain where you can't always access them.  But it's all there."

 

Immediately my mind began picturing photos and letters all scattered about in a huge room inside my head.  Only it looked like total chaos.  "But you can keep track of it all, can't you?" I asked.

"With effort, but yes," he smiled.  "I can recall everything friends like Terry ever said or did in front of me.  Plus there are always the stories other people told me about him."

"And you never forget any of it?" 

"Not a single thing," he replied.

"Then, you remember 'everyone' you've ever met and all the things they did?" I whispered in awe.

This time his smile became even wider.  "Now you got it."

"So you're like a walking repository of other people's lives.  The ones who only family and friends knew about, because they never became famous or well known," I murmured in growing awe.  

"That's definitely one way of looking at it," he nodded after thinking it over for a few seconds.  "And I share those memories with their descendants so they're never forgotten."

"So you make sure their memories stay alive," I smiled.

"I can do better than that," Nathan winked.  "If the person is in tune enough with me, I can share those memories so they can have them as well."

This was news to me so I quickly begged him to share one with me, which he did.  It might not have been the one he'd intended but I saw Mr. Pratchett holding a broom, next to the actor who played "Death" in one of the Discworld movies.  Both were pointing at each other with amusement and camaraderie, then I felt something... calm and at peace.  I knew that last part came from Nathan.  It was how he was feeling about losing another friend.    


Having read the Discworld books myself I knew that when Death collected someone there would be a desert for them to cross.  "Do you think Mr. Pratchett's already crossed it?" I asked Nathan as we were still linked.

To my surprise Nathan shook his head and said, "No.  Somehow I think he's in a cottage that is much bigger on the inside and colored in different shades of black, which is filled with all kinds of cats.  Across from him Death is holding out a cup of tea saying, "ALBERT AND I WERE WONDERING IF YOU COULD STAY A WHILE AND TELL US A STORY...",  That's where I think he is, anyway."

"I think so too," I smiled and gave Nathan a kiss, knowing the memory of it would never be lost.

**Special Note: The section where Death is talking to Mr. Pratchett was created by my wife Helen, who gave me permission to share it in this entry.  Thank you my love.**







Monday, March 2, 2015

We Interrupt This Blog With An Important Announcement...

I won't be on around very much for the next two weeks. I have a 10-12 page advocacy paper due a week from this Friday, as well as a group presentation for another of my classes.
So I won't be around much, but I hope to visit from time to time until everything gets settled.
Needless to say, I won't be getting much of my own writing done either, so there won't be any updates on "The Door", so sorry to everyone who's waiting for word on that book, as well as new entries here on "The Vampyre Blogs - Private Edition".
All this being forced to put aside so much is making me have some serious second thoughts about the path I'm on at the university. Will be giving this a lot of thought in the next two weeks.


Thursday, February 5, 2015

Nathaniel's E-Journal, Feb. 5th, 20-- "Memories of Music and Fibromyalgia"


I had just gotten back to Pointer after doing some book signings up in Allentown Pennsylvania.  The night was still young, but I didn't feel like dropping in on Brian and his family.  After spending hours talking and signing books I felt like having some alone time.  So I headed downtown to where my club awaited.  

Being a Thursday night, I knew it wouldn't be open to the public so it was a safe bet I'd have the place to myself.  After quietly leaving my car near Doctor Jack's office, I walked the streets for a while in order to stretch my legs.  It felt good.


I never knew being an author could be so tiring at times.  Oh the late nights writing suit me fine, but ever since I signed a few deals with Hollywood, my presence has been in demand.  Meetings, lectures, book signings, and personal appearances have kept me busy lately.  So not having to be anywhere in particular and being able to wander a bit is very relaxing.

But as I drew close to the alleyway that led to my club, I spotted a familiar figure lingering nearby.


It was Teddy, one of my regular customers.  He's a nice kid who I helped out a few weeks ago when one of the jocks tried to bully him for asking a cheerleader to dance.  I put a stop to things rather quickly, especially when I realized he suffered from Fibromyalgia.  Ever since that night I've felt a kind of kinship towards him.  

Although I never got a diagnosis, I know I shared his affliction when I was even younger than him.  The constant pain left me tired and unsteady at times.  But I was labeled 'lazy' and 'clumsy' by many, including my father.  So I had to learn to hide my constant discomfort and fight my body's tendency to not want to cooperate at times.  I don't think my father ever realized how much work I put in to just trying to appear to be normal.  My mother on on the other hand knew better as did my little sister Isabella who often asked that I accompany her places to read to her.  Being so young and blessed with eyes like an angel's, Father barely ever refused her requests thus getting me out from under his watchful eye.

It wasn't that he was cruel, I think he simply believed that being firm with me would lead to my becoming a 'real' man down the road.  The idea of disappointing him always haunted me, which was part of the reason why I joined the Which is part of the reason I joined the 7th West Virginia Volunteer Regiment when the Civil War started.  The day I appeared before him and mother in uniform for the first time I could see the pride in his eyes. 


But I also saw something else, fear.  This is probably what led to his pulling me close, something he rarely did with me and said, "I know how much you hurt sometimes and that your body can betray you.  They say this'll be over before Christmas, so don't be foolhardy.  Come back in one piece and know I'm always going to be proud of you, my son."

Oh how I would've loved to have heard those words so much sooner, but just hearing them once was more than enough.  

Looking at Teddy I knew he could use some words of comfort as well.  His shoulders were slumped and in his face was a trace of tiredness I knew only too well.  

After a brief greeting I invited him inside the club.  He seemed surprised but was more than willing to accept my invitation.  We both knew the seats were comfortable and that the place would be nice and quiet.  

Soon we were sitting quietly near my piano, chatting away.  He was now dating Tina, a member of the cheerleading squad.  She wasn't the one he'd been asking to dance when the trouble started, but she had been on hand and had helped him up after I intervened.  Like him, she too suffers from Fibromyalgia, but that was not the reason he was alone tonight.  She had gone out of town to visit relatives, leaving him with time on his hands.

"So what brought you out this way?" I asked him. "You knew the club wouldn't be open tonight."

"Nothing," he replied, a little too quickly.  "I was just in the neighborhood and needed to take a moment to rest when you saw me."

He was hurting.  That much I was sure of.  But he also wasn't telling me everything.  I decided to dig a little deeper.  "You know, when my Fibro was acting up I didn't always feel like taking long walks."

Teddy gives me an odd look, but says nothing.

"And I know you live all the way over on the other side of town," I continued. 

This time I saw realization sink in and his shoulders sagged.  "Okay, I came all the way over here to try and get to the music store before it closed, but I didn't make it."

By this time my curiosity was aroused.  "What were you going to get there?  Sheet music?"

"No a guitar," he tells me.  "I've been getting lessons from one of my cousins for years now and I've gotten really good.  But I only really get to practice when I can borrow his or at school.  But I can't take the ones from school home with me.  So I saved my money and was going to finally get my own, but my Fibro slowed me down and... well, you know the rest."

I was both impressed and a little confused by his determination to get the instrument.  "You came all this way, even though you were hurting like hell to buy that guitar?  How come?  Why was it so important to you?"

He looked away from me and stared down at his hands.  "When I play, I lose myself in the music and I can forget the pain for a while.  I don't feel like a loser or a lame-o," he replied quietly.

"I know what you mean," I told him and stood up.  Wandering over to my piano I continued, "I cannot tell you how many times I've sat here and just cut loose so I could become lost in the music.  The same thing happens when I'm dancing as well.  I can forget whatever's bothering me and with that respite my mind can clear itself for a time.  Then, when I've finished, I feel recharged.  Invigorated and ready to face whatever's coming."



My fingers brushed the white keys ever so gently.  This piano and I were old friends.  It had been given to me by Jimmy Durante, the great Schnozzola himself, as a gift some years ago and I treasured it.  His charitable nature extended way beyond his friends.  I remembered all the work he did for boys, girls and teens all over.  

Just then I heard his voice as if it was coming from behind me saying those immortal words, "Do it for the kids." 

Without a second thought, I asked Teddy to stay put while I went down into the storage area.  After a brief search I found what I was looking for and came back with a guitar cases.  It had belonged to one of my many nephews who had given up playing after less than a year and had gone onto working on cars instead.

Opening the case I pulled the instrument out.  It looked as new as I remembered.  

Teddy gasped and came over to take a closer look.  "Oh man, it's a Gibson!  And it's in mint condition."

Smiling, I handed it to him and said, "See if it's still in tune."

It wasn't, but my companion quickly fixed rectified the problem.  He had a good ear and definitely knew his stuff.  Soon he was treating me to a display of his skills that held me in awe.  I've learned to play a number of instruments over the decades, but I'd never mastered the guitar.  Harps, keyboards, violin and a couple of wind instruments were my limit.  



But Teddy knew exactly what he was doing.  Watching his fingers flying up and down the guitar's neck and picking those strings was a marvel to behold.  He played for an hour and then we talked until it was time for him to go home.  I sent the guitar with him on 'permanent' loan.  To say he was grateful would be an understatement.  But I knew it would do better in his hands than just sitting in the storage room. Especially since I knew it would help him through those difficult times when the Fibro was getting too much.

I don't feel those pains anymore of course.  My condition freed me from the shackles of Fibromyalgia and a great many other infirmities.  But I never forgot what it felt like, or how even a small respite of any kind could mean so much.
















Friday, January 30, 2015

Lisa's Private Thoughts October 12th, 2011 "Vintage Clothing, Nathan, and Burlesque"

Uncle Nathan is the coolest guy ever!  

Back when we'd been in Europe he'd promised to take me to some places that had vintage clothing and today he did just that.  It was a raining today so we didn't have to worry about the sun bothering him as we drove around.  At the first place we stopped I found this really nice-looking old bustle skirt in black that fit just perfect.  Unfortunately, it was a little out of my price range, but not Nathan's.  He bought if for me.  


"It looked perfect on you," he explained.  "And I would know, I spent a lot of time looking at women from the front, from behind, all around in fact."

I gently slugged him on the arm for that one and called him a pervert to which he replied, "Excuse me, I did work in theater for a coupled of decades doing a lot of different jobs, including helping with people's outfits.  I had to make sure they looked right before they went on stage."

"Sure, you did," I teased back.

"Right, that does it," he announced and took me to a theater that was running a burlesque show.


Now before anyone freaks out, the show wasn't going to be on until later.  So the only people there were a couple of the girls who were rehearsing and the troupe's leader, a woman named Olivia.  Much to my surprise when she spotted Nathan her face lit up and she came running over to give him a big hug crying, "Uncle Nate!  Oh, how I've missed you.  Hey, everyone Nate's here!"

I swear one of these days I'm going to find out exactly how many people are part of his 'extended family' besides mine.  Back in Europe there were quite a few, but now I'm beginning to think that the the actual numbers are much larger.  

In this case it made sense.  Apparently a number of friends and cousins were in charge of this burlesque troupe.  I don't think all of them know his real secret as a couple of the people mentioned how unusual it was to see him in the day.  "You usually only come around at night when we have a show going," one mentioned.

Uncle Nate merely waggled his eyebrows and said, "Well, you have to admit the sites around here are much more interesting at night."

While everyone burst out laughing, I was given the grand tour backstage while Nathan was giving people a hand here and there with the backstage equipment and event he costumes.  Apparently he was telling the truth as several of the girls asked for his opinion and help with some of their outfits.  I think a few were trying to flirt, but mostly they did want his advice and help.


It was interesting to see all the inner workings of a theater backstage.  I'd never been behind the scenes before, so this was a real treat for me.  

Plus I got to see inside one of the dressing rooms where they kept all the clothing and make-up.   One of the things they all stressed to me was although I wanted to go for an authentic look I should also keep in mind, be able to move and breathe.  

"We don't just get out there and start stripping, we're dancing," one girl told me.  "We do splits and a lot of other acrobatics.  And some of us are wearing corsets and those can be constricting so if you're not careful you could make your life really miserable.  So choose items that allow movement and fabrics that breathe and you'll be okay."


I thought this was great advice, because the theater teacher at my high school has been complimenting me on my outfits lately.  She says I have an eye for style and authentic looks and has been hinting I should maybe join her class.  I told her I'd think about it and now I really am.  This could be a great experience for me and open up some doors down the road.  I may do it since I have more time to myself these days.  Marisa is still being distant, but at least now I know what's going on.  Her dad is fighting cancer and she's spending as much time with him as possible in case things go bad.   

I'd love to be there for her, but my parents say I should respect her wishes to be with her family more, so I'm giving her her space.  I'm still going to try and be there for her as much as possible, especially at school.  But I'm going to do as my parents say and giver her her space.  I just hope things go well so we can start hanging together again.  I really miss her.





Sunday, January 25, 2015

Nathaniel's Private E-Journal January 19th, 2011 "Night Flight"

Oh Alaska, how bewitching you are, I never tire of visiting you.  Earlier this evening I visited a  tavern/hotel made completely of ice.  And I'm not talking about just the building itself but all the decor inside was also made of ice.  The bar, the chairs, tables, even the glasses were all made of ice.  The artistry that went into each and every item was exquisite.  I could spend hours inside that place with my paints trying to capture the colors and beauty, to no avail.  Mostly because my paints or brushes would wind up freezing.  Just kidding.  It's cold inside but not nearly as bad as outdoors where the wind was howling.


But as much as I was enjoying myself, I began to hear the call.  It wasn't one you could hear with your ears.  No this was the call of the siren of the woods, beckoning for me to come and dance with her beneath the stars.  Her song was so alluring I didn't hesitate to answer.  

Soon I found myself out in the wild once more.  Above my old friends the stars smiled down upon me as I gazed up through frozen waterfalls.  It's nights like these where I truly believe that magic does exist in the world.  For all the technology and logic we're taught, the beauty nature can create on her own is beyond compare.


I almost felt like intruder in some ways.  The loud crunch of my feet in the snow made my self-conscious.  I began to feel like I was defacing the peace and beauty of the land.around me.  Then I thought back to one of my favorite movies, "The Fellowship Of The Ring" and remembered how Legolas actually walked and ran on top of the snow without disturbing it.  After a few tries I managed to lighten my step so as not to disturb the surface of the snow as I moved across it in silence.  

Soon I raced across the snow laughing and jumping, leaving no trace of my passing behind.  It felt exhilarating.  The feel of the breeze against my cheeks was invigorating.  I soon found myself wanting to ride the gentle wind and came to a halt underneath some trees.  Unlike the vampires of legend when I shift my shape, my clothing does not change with me.  Instead it remains behind while the rest of me takes whatever from I choose.  

Tonight, I chose bats.  


My hands and arms were the first to shift and break apart and free themselves of my garments.  Soon my shoulders and chest followed, along with my neck and head.  It's a strange experience, one that is not easy to put into words.  My senses change in ways one cannot imagine.  I don't mean merely the fact that I take on the keen hearing and senses of the animal form I take, especially when I become not one but many.  I am keenly aware of what's going on with every single one of me that separates.  I see and hear through its eyes and ears.  I feel the sensation of the breeze and smell of the air as my forms spread out across the night sky.  Its the same when I become a horde of rats or mice.  I'm aware of each tiny foot hitting the ground, every whisker that is tickled by a piece of grass or other object.  Yet I'm not overwhelmed by all the information.  Instead I can take it all in and analyze it without pause or hesitation.  And I can enjoy and revel in all of it.  It's wondrous.  


Much like the aurora that finally begins to pain the night sky above.  But this time I'm seeing it from multiple angles.  But even more importantly, I'm in the air and get closer than ever before.  There is a magic here and tonight I got to be a part of it.  As strange as my existence is, it can be a wonderful life.

Friday, January 16, 2015

Nathaniel's Private E - Journal January 16th, 2011 "Wolves and the Northern Lights"

I'm back in Alaska for the first time in over a decade and it feels great.  Unlike a lot of people, I like the cold and snow.  But even more importantly I like to be someplace where I can really unleash my powers and experience them to the fullest.  

I'm not talking about attacking creatures and sucking blood mind you.  I stick to my blood bags and I've got plenty of them on hand.  But up here I can be up and about more often, at least for a few months of the year.  The daylight hours are shorter up here, so I get to move around more and meet people.  I can go places and not have to load up so much on the red stuff.  

The stores are still open, people are out and about doing things like ice fishing, sledding, shopping, there's so much activity it allows me to feel like I'm not so cut off from daily life.  But what I really love is the wide open spaces, especially at night.

When I first became what I am, I felt so lost at first.  But it didn't last because I soon discovered the wonders of the night.  Back then there weren't so many towns and cities so the night sky was more clear.  There was less smoke and light pollution back then and a whole other reality was opened to me.

I can still remember the first time I emerged from the ground, having slept the daylight hours away in safety.  As my face surfaced the sight that greeted me was beyond words... 


I had never seen so many stars before.  Then again I hadn't really had the opportunity to look up.  As a child I was usually in bed long before the night sky fully took hold.  And when I was a soldier, I'd been trained to keep my eyes on the ground for traps, or to watch my surroundings because you never knew where Johnny-Rebel might be lurking.

But I'm not a soldier these days.  I can stare up into the night as much as I like.  But unfortunately, sometimes the sky isn't as clear as back then.  Which is why I come to Alaska.  

You may wonder what exactly is the connection between the night sky and unleashing my powers.  Well, when I say I 'unleash' my abilities, it's more a case of taking advantage of them.  Oh, I've had my fun with them in other places, but here it's different.  I have a different stage to work on with one of the most magical backdrops ever, the Aurora Borealis.


Imagine if you can having the ability to wander for hours on end, beneath such a wondrous sky.  From dusk to dawn I can watch the most spectacular show and not have to worry about how I do it.
Some nights I'll shift my form to that of a black wolf and race across the tundra, sometimes alone other times not.  On occasion I've met up with wolf packs who smelled I was more than a little different.  But a gentle release of spores soon pacified their misgivings and then we're off together running and hunting as one.  


It was on occasions like these where I'd allow my own hunting skills to come into play.  If I saw the pack was going to lose a kill I'd unleash my own unnatural speed and bring our target to a halt so the others could join in. However it depended on what we were hunting.  Females and offspring were a no-no.  I'd even use my powers to lead the pack off to find food elsewhere.

But if we were up against a huge bull moose or a bison all bets were off.  This may sound callous to some but one thing I've learned is nature has its cruel side.  Feast or famine.  Survive or die.  Those packs needed food just like any other animals, and because they'd accepted me as  one of their own I felt obligated to help them.  Basically it was my way of saying 'Thank you for letting me be part of your, even if it was just one night.'  

How many people ever got to say that?  

I have many more stories and experiences to share about Alaska, but for now I'm ending this entry here.  The Northern Lights are slowly appearing and I long for the wind on my face...

Good night.