Werewolf Island

The Mouth, Present Time

As Lyric and Niarthen were walked through the camp, children peeked out of the tents and when given the nod by the adults, burst out to play.

“It has been hard on the children,” the she-wolf with the amazing arse told them. She had informed them that there were fifty werewolves on the island, twelve bewildered cows, and fourteen very contented chickens.

Tents were placed where-ever there was room between the trees, and the werewolves had felled several to make a clearing and had begun to build a log hut. There were little fires everywhere, and every single fire had water boiling in large pots over it. In between the trees, tarpaulin was strung to filter rain and dew collected onto its surface into buckets below. Water was a major pre-occupation of the camp, Lyric thought. And no wonder, seeing as they were surrounded by the danger of it.

Before a mud-sprayed tent was a small fire circled by fold-out chairs. An impressively tall and muscled, bearded man with ove