The Turning of a Nightwolf

The Turning of a Nightwolf

The moon crested the sky as the sun clashed with it. A solar eclipse had commenced. The moon glowed a brilliant black. Behind it, the sun cast an orange glow over the edges of its shadow. I pressed the blade into my skin, the cold steel tearing through my flesh. Shadows drifted in and out, as did my consciousness. The black moon gawked at my actions; my crimson blood ebbed through my fingers. I fell to the soft grass; I saw light flash before my eyes as the sun flared out. I began to howl as my transformation began. Nachtwulffen.