Silvermoon. A Tale of a Young Werewolf. A YA Novel. 12-18 by T.J. Edison. Page A
Book: Silvermoon. A Tale of a Young Werewolf. A YA Novel. 12-18 by T.J. Edison.
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Authors: T.J. Edison.
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it from a library book. Should I show it to you?’
She had agreed in order to please him, and he’d ru n off and returned, breathless, five minutes later. He even brought a sheaf of paper and a pair of scissors with him. The diagrams were easy to follow and they spent two hours cutting and folding, seeing who could make the tiniest figure.
She thought about the other pupils, but they were much too young, too small. Then she remembered the woman in black by the edge of the woods in the late evening. She saw John in the vicinity at the same time, and wondered if he had been talking to her. She had questioned him on the matter at the first opportunity and he’d answered readily, ‘ Yes, I spoke with her, she was most polite, she was a traveller who had lost her way. She was looking for the railway station and I gave her directions.’
She wasn’t sure if he was lying or it was his natural naivety, so she took to jogging before the evening meal at the same time to see if the woman returned, and after two weeks she decided John was telling the truth, but was not sure if he had been lied to.
Jason carried his and Ingrid’s sled into the workshop. John followed him with Yvette’s and his own, he stood one next to the workbench and placed the other one on top. He took a rag and proceeded to the dry the metal struts. Jason watched as he tested the wood and metal framework for stability, inspecting the joints, tightening the screws and asked as he waxed the metal runners. “Doesn’t the janitor or gardener look after the equipment?”
John shrugged. “I don’t know, I suppose one has to ask for these things to be done. I can’t take the risk of one of us, or anybody else for that matter, injuring themselves because somebody didn’t carry out his job conscientiously enough. I checked all twelve sleds yesterday evening,” he pointed to the one with a red rope tied to it, “The one you were using had a loose ru nner, you would have noticed it on the way down the slope, but then it would have been too late after your reckless dive, you could have finished up badly injured on the curve .”
He helped him with the rest of the sleds and hung them up on the wall. He was starting to see John in a new light, he had thought him cold and selfish, especially when hiking through the snow, never leading and always the first one to suggest a stop when Ingrid so mu ch as heaved a heavy sigh.
He found that rather strange, as when he wasn’t hanging around Jason then he was chatting to Yvette while ignoring Ingrid completely , who couldn’t stop making sheep’s-eyes at him.
Yvette treated him politely, but ignored his half-hearted offers to help her with her juristic studies, as he had no idea about common law. His one and only favourite subject was history, his dream was to become a famous historian, a well-renowned professor like his tutor, only - as he admitted to Jason in private - to be much more proficient.
Langolerintha.
Something tickled his face. He awoke slowly and he saw, as his eyes opened fully, that he was lying in long grass. He stood up and saw Jennifer approaching. She looked different, for she was not as he remembered her, she was more mature, a young girl no longer, she was now approaching womanhood.
He looked at her clothing; she wore a purple gown of shimmering material that enhanced her beauty and added lustre to her hair that hung down like a golden bronze cloak behind her. He glanced down at his own clothing and saw he was dressed in something similar, but of a darker hue that shone silver in the sunlight. Her voice rang out, sounding like a long-forgotten song to his ears, “Hello, Jason, my love, how are you?”
She floated over the grassy surface towards him and he touched her outstretched hand, “I slept well, thank you.” He gazed about him; they were standing by a stream that flowed out of a wood and across a sea of green.
She had agreed in order to please him, and he’d ru n off and returned, breathless, five minutes later. He even brought a sheaf of paper and a pair of scissors with him. The diagrams were easy to follow and they spent two hours cutting and folding, seeing who could make the tiniest figure.
She thought about the other pupils, but they were much too young, too small. Then she remembered the woman in black by the edge of the woods in the late evening. She saw John in the vicinity at the same time, and wondered if he had been talking to her. She had questioned him on the matter at the first opportunity and he’d answered readily, ‘ Yes, I spoke with her, she was most polite, she was a traveller who had lost her way. She was looking for the railway station and I gave her directions.’
She wasn’t sure if he was lying or it was his natural naivety, so she took to jogging before the evening meal at the same time to see if the woman returned, and after two weeks she decided John was telling the truth, but was not sure if he had been lied to.
Jason carried his and Ingrid’s sled into the workshop. John followed him with Yvette’s and his own, he stood one next to the workbench and placed the other one on top. He took a rag and proceeded to the dry the metal struts. Jason watched as he tested the wood and metal framework for stability, inspecting the joints, tightening the screws and asked as he waxed the metal runners. “Doesn’t the janitor or gardener look after the equipment?”
John shrugged. “I don’t know, I suppose one has to ask for these things to be done. I can’t take the risk of one of us, or anybody else for that matter, injuring themselves because somebody didn’t carry out his job conscientiously enough. I checked all twelve sleds yesterday evening,” he pointed to the one with a red rope tied to it, “The one you were using had a loose ru nner, you would have noticed it on the way down the slope, but then it would have been too late after your reckless dive, you could have finished up badly injured on the curve .”
He helped him with the rest of the sleds and hung them up on the wall. He was starting to see John in a new light, he had thought him cold and selfish, especially when hiking through the snow, never leading and always the first one to suggest a stop when Ingrid so mu ch as heaved a heavy sigh.
He found that rather strange, as when he wasn’t hanging around Jason then he was chatting to Yvette while ignoring Ingrid completely , who couldn’t stop making sheep’s-eyes at him.
Yvette treated him politely, but ignored his half-hearted offers to help her with her juristic studies, as he had no idea about common law. His one and only favourite subject was history, his dream was to become a famous historian, a well-renowned professor like his tutor, only - as he admitted to Jason in private - to be much more proficient.
Langolerintha.
Something tickled his face. He awoke slowly and he saw, as his eyes opened fully, that he was lying in long grass. He stood up and saw Jennifer approaching. She looked different, for she was not as he remembered her, she was more mature, a young girl no longer, she was now approaching womanhood.
He looked at her clothing; she wore a purple gown of shimmering material that enhanced her beauty and added lustre to her hair that hung down like a golden bronze cloak behind her. He glanced down at his own clothing and saw he was dressed in something similar, but of a darker hue that shone silver in the sunlight. Her voice rang out, sounding like a long-forgotten song to his ears, “Hello, Jason, my love, how are you?”
She floated over the grassy surface towards him and he touched her outstretched hand, “I slept well, thank you.” He gazed about him; they were standing by a stream that flowed out of a wood and across a sea of green.
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