16th March 1633
Marcus Campbell has made us most welcome at his compound, there being several other hunters living here.
From time to time wives will visit from the settlement of Charity, some miles away.
David has said that Meg should be sent to live with the other women, but for now I am content to let her stay.
The compound is made up of several cabins, a large barn and corrals for the horses.
The woods rise up to meet the edge of the land, but we are vigilant, there being several places for men to keep watch, and two men are on sentry duty at all times.
4th August 1633
There is talk of werewolves in the south.
Travellers are telling of livestock being killed, which was thought to be normal wolves, there being many here. Now though, a whole family has been found slaughtered, their throats ripped out, hearts missing.
I shall ride with David, Marcus and a new hunter. A Frenchman by the name of Fitzgerald.
On the way, I shall put Meg into the care of Marcus's wife.
15th August 1633
We arrived at the farm to be told we were misinformed.
Marcus is most vexed, but as usual only glowers to himself, a most stoic Dane.
Fitzgerald suggested we should rest in this settlement for a day or two, there being a tavern, this not being a Puritan place, and as the journey here has been long and tedious, not a man among us disagrees.
-later-
Something is badly amiss here.
The towns people seemed most welcoming, the lawman of this place inviting us to dine with him.
He was at a loss to explain how news of the attacks came to our ears, and laughed most heartily when Fitzgerald mentioned werewolves, saying they were only "beasts in childrens tales" and not something grown men should talk of.
The wine did flow very freely, but something in the manner of his servant made me temper my gluttony.
From time to time she caught my eye and I did fancy I saw no small measure of fear there, and a tremble to her hand as she poured drinks, so when she left the room, I made my excuses to retire for the night.
It didn't take me long to find her, the house, although ample, by no means huge. She resided in the kitchen and was most alarmed to find me there.
"You are the servant in this house?"
"I am sir."
"And you have served your master a long time?"
She did lower her gaze and nod her head. "I travelled with the master and his wife nearly ten years past sir."
I judged that she must have been a child at this time, her being no more than twenty or so, although, many households in England have children in service, there are fewer here.
"Tell me child. Is your master well?"
"He is sir. Very much so."
She looked at me then, meeting my gaze and holding it in a most presumptuous manner for a servant.
I asked her name, and she gave it as Ruth, her not knowing her surname, and I did ask her if she had heard of the killings in this area.
At my insistence she admitted that she had. That there had been more than the farming family, and that she was very afraid that some of the towns people were in fact, the beasts themselves.
I gave her my thanks and did retire to my room to await my companions.
16th August 1633
The hunt is on.
We have spent the day preparing.
I have my silver knife and Fitzgerald is keen to try out his pistol, having had silver shot made for it.
Campbell is much scornful of the use of pistols. He thinks they are well and good for the killing of men, but a pistol or musket is too cumbersome for the killing of devils.
We shall see.
-later-
The moon is most ripe in the sky.
If there is hunting to do, it will be tonight.
18th August 1633
Such terrors we did endure.
We were right to expect a hunt, for it was not long after moon rise that we heard the screams.
It was with much haste that we made our way towards the source of the commotion and did find Ruth cowering against the mantle.
"He has turned sir!" She said tremulously before holding her aprons to her face in fear.
There was much noise coming from the animal pens, and David motioned for Myself and Fitzgerald to move around the side of the barns, while he and Campbell went inside.
A great scream came from the barn and the door at the back was flung open, a shape hurtling from the darkness.
It did knock me to the ground in it's hurry to escape, but Fitzgerald stood fast and aimed with his pistol, hitting his mark well and felling the beast.
What elation he had though soon vanished when faced with a very ordinary looking wolf, breathing it's last before us.
David confirmed that the scream had been a goat, it's throat torn out by the animal.
Fitzgerald was most distressed to learn that he had wasted a silver shot on a common wolf.
Campbell hushed him though, reminding us all that the girl had said her master had turned, and that he must still be out there.
The wolf in the pen had only been a diversion away from the hunt.
It was then that I noticed we were not alone.
Many dark shapes were moving stealthily towards us in the shadows.
We backed up against the barn as they grew bolder, and as the moonlight made them visible to us, we counted seven of the beasts before us.
"I had thought to hunt longer." Fitzgerald mumbled under his breath, but I could not answer, my head being full of Meg. How she would grow up without not only her mother, but also her father.
The servant, Ruth, walked through the beasts to stand before us.
"You would have done well to leave when you were told the stories that had reached your ears were false, brave hunters." She smiled, only a hint of the beast below her.
Campbell demanded that she inform us on how she was not changed like the others and she only laughed and told us that the old beasts of the world were able to change at will, that the years tempered the bloodlust enough for composure.
One of the werewolves flew towards us and Campbell ran headlong into it, letting it get above him before hitting his knife home under its ribs.
David shouted as Fitzgerald, but he was already moving towards Ruth, his pistol raised.
The rest of the beasts were upon us and I feared that a fate worse than death could await any of us if action were not taken swiftly.
The pistol fired and hit true, blood blooming from Ruths midsection, her eye's uncomprehending.
Perhaps she had never seen a pistol before, did not know that silver could be used that way.
As their mistress and maker fell. the last of the werewolves fled into the forests, but we had neither the strength of will to follow them.
Campbell let his grim nature slip a little as he stumbled over and clapped Fitzgerald on the back, praising him for his marksmanship, and later, I was glad to see the two of them in conversation, handing the pistol back and forth and talking of new ways to hunt.
The town is deserted now.
The inhabitants either dead or turned.
We shall ride in the morning though.
There is nothing left here for us to do.
28th August 1633
I was most surprised to find Meg at the compound on our return.
She was sat in the kitchen area with Callum Campbell, eating pot cooked beans and swinging her legs on the stool that was too high for her.
"She wouldn't stay in town." Was all he said, grimly, before pointing to a perfect scar of teeth marks on his forearm.
Meg confirmed that yes, she had bitten him.
She had stolen a pony and ridden back to the compound alone and when Callum had tried to take her back, she had fought and kicked and bitten so hard that he had let her be.
She was most intent on telling me how she had been practicing shooting arrows and how Callum had let her stay up on watch with him.
I could only wrap my arms around my little girl and laugh.
Maybe I have done wrong by her, not raising her to be gentle and demur.
Maybe she will never find a husband, but she will survive.
She is mine own little hunter.
