He was naked as a jaybird and covered in filth. He moved towards her with the same eerie grace that he had scaled the side of the barn, stopping to sniff the wind and look suspiciously around...His eyes were not yellow now; they were as black as his hair.

~ Shirley A. Martin

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What are you?' She asked. He shot her a brief glance and looked away. He stared at the scenery of the pastures and distant rows of trees. She knew he was not going to answer the question. In the brightening daylight, she could see that most of the blood on him was restricted to his mouth and hands. It dawned on her that it wasn't his blood, but the blood of something he had caught and eaten.

~ Shirley A. Martin

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