Silvermoon. A Tale of a Young Werewolf. A YA Novel. 12-18 by T.J. Edison. Page B
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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“Where are we?” he asked.
“Langolerintha,” she told him. “The land of the elves, look.”
She pointed to a snow white animal, a horse with cloven hooves and a single horn as it left the wooded area. His chin dropped “A unicorn!”
The unicorn turned to him and he heard its voice inside his head, “Welcome to Langolerintha, Silvermoon,” and trotted on, followed by half-a-dozen more of its kind on which a male or female elf, dressed in fine gowns, was seated.
He looked to Jennifer, her blues eyes twinkled. He pulled her to him and slipped his arms around her waist. The scent of lavender filled his senses as her lips parted in expectation and his mouth moved closer to hers…
Someone was knocking on his door, he sat up in his armchair and his book fell to the floor with a slap. He heard a voice and he recognised John’s tones as he called out, “Lights out, Jason, time for bed.”
He rose up slowly, the vision of Jennifer still fresh in his mind. He undressed and pulled on his pyjamas, puzzled by the dream and cursing John in his mind for waking him just as he was about to-.
He lay down and pulled the covers over him. As he recalled the dream he wondered what she was doing right now, was she dreaming of him or had she forgotten him by now.
Thieves.
Jennifer woke with a start. She had heard his thoughts in her sleep. She knew his mind was on her with every free, waking moment. She had dreamed of them running away together to the fabled land of Langolerintha . She dreamed of them swimming in one of the enchanted pools beneath a waterfall in a shaded glade, where pixies filled the air with their buzzing as they flew by gathering nectar.
Now she sensed something else, something which had woken her. She felt uneasy, then she heard her father’s light tread on the landing, and feeling once again secure, she fell into a deep sleep.
Reega.
The huge grey-skinned beast lumbered behind her like a faithful dog, but this beast was nothing like man’s best friend.
While his heavy-muscled mistress was clad in thick animal furs from head to foot, over her leather armour, he was naked except for a loin cloth. His four metre-high, brawny structure waddled from side to side on his short - by comparison to a human’s - but immensely thick legs, while his fingers trailed through the snow, slightly in front of him, as if feeling the way.
Their journey, by day and by night, with her riding on his shoulders, had taken them four whole days, and now they neared their goal.
Princess Reega, eldest daughter of the goblin King Gorgob, made her way through the woods, avoiding the brambles and frozen deadwood on her way to the river. She stopped near to the edge and slipped and cursed as the beast, named Burr, one of the many cave trolls under her sway, bumped into her. “Damn you, you fool, be careful, I’m not one of your playmates. Now keep quiet and listen.”
She regained her balance on the slippery slope and sniffed the air, breathing deep. Her exhaled breath formed a cloud before her as she looked up at the hunter’s moon turning night into a ghostly day as the clouds parted. It had snowed on and off for the past week and now, at the crucial moment, nature decided to scorn her.
Reega looked across the frozen river at the house, the home of bank director Townsend, his wife and his daughter. The white-painted wooden building was practically invisible in the wintry landscape, save for the light shining from its windows. Then she saw the vast shadow moving towards them, she looked up at the bank of clouds hiding Luna and darkening the landscape, and she praised the weather gods. She turned to her companion and beckoned. “Follow me,” and she walked onto the ice.
Burr hopped down after her from the bank and onto the icy surface, landing rather heavily. The ice cracked sharply like a pistol-shot under his weight. The sound
“Langolerintha,” she told him. “The land of the elves, look.”
She pointed to a snow white animal, a horse with cloven hooves and a single horn as it left the wooded area. His chin dropped “A unicorn!”
The unicorn turned to him and he heard its voice inside his head, “Welcome to Langolerintha, Silvermoon,” and trotted on, followed by half-a-dozen more of its kind on which a male or female elf, dressed in fine gowns, was seated.
He looked to Jennifer, her blues eyes twinkled. He pulled her to him and slipped his arms around her waist. The scent of lavender filled his senses as her lips parted in expectation and his mouth moved closer to hers…
Someone was knocking on his door, he sat up in his armchair and his book fell to the floor with a slap. He heard a voice and he recognised John’s tones as he called out, “Lights out, Jason, time for bed.”
He rose up slowly, the vision of Jennifer still fresh in his mind. He undressed and pulled on his pyjamas, puzzled by the dream and cursing John in his mind for waking him just as he was about to-.
He lay down and pulled the covers over him. As he recalled the dream he wondered what she was doing right now, was she dreaming of him or had she forgotten him by now.
Thieves.
Jennifer woke with a start. She had heard his thoughts in her sleep. She knew his mind was on her with every free, waking moment. She had dreamed of them running away together to the fabled land of Langolerintha . She dreamed of them swimming in one of the enchanted pools beneath a waterfall in a shaded glade, where pixies filled the air with their buzzing as they flew by gathering nectar.
Now she sensed something else, something which had woken her. She felt uneasy, then she heard her father’s light tread on the landing, and feeling once again secure, she fell into a deep sleep.
Reega.
The huge grey-skinned beast lumbered behind her like a faithful dog, but this beast was nothing like man’s best friend.
While his heavy-muscled mistress was clad in thick animal furs from head to foot, over her leather armour, he was naked except for a loin cloth. His four metre-high, brawny structure waddled from side to side on his short - by comparison to a human’s - but immensely thick legs, while his fingers trailed through the snow, slightly in front of him, as if feeling the way.
Their journey, by day and by night, with her riding on his shoulders, had taken them four whole days, and now they neared their goal.
Princess Reega, eldest daughter of the goblin King Gorgob, made her way through the woods, avoiding the brambles and frozen deadwood on her way to the river. She stopped near to the edge and slipped and cursed as the beast, named Burr, one of the many cave trolls under her sway, bumped into her. “Damn you, you fool, be careful, I’m not one of your playmates. Now keep quiet and listen.”
She regained her balance on the slippery slope and sniffed the air, breathing deep. Her exhaled breath formed a cloud before her as she looked up at the hunter’s moon turning night into a ghostly day as the clouds parted. It had snowed on and off for the past week and now, at the crucial moment, nature decided to scorn her.
Reega looked across the frozen river at the house, the home of bank director Townsend, his wife and his daughter. The white-painted wooden building was practically invisible in the wintry landscape, save for the light shining from its windows. Then she saw the vast shadow moving towards them, she looked up at the bank of clouds hiding Luna and darkening the landscape, and she praised the weather gods. She turned to her companion and beckoned. “Follow me,” and she walked onto the ice.
Burr hopped down after her from the bank and onto the icy surface, landing rather heavily. The ice cracked sharply like a pistol-shot under his weight. The sound
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