Chapter 10

A few days later, the concrete was finished curing and we could begin.

Tom and I started building the walls for the garage extension.

In keeping with the rest of the farmhouse and garage, we raised the walls using the traditional method of half timber, half masonry to build the exterior walls.

The interior would be lined with sheets of urethane foam insulation covered by 19mm thick plywood, giving a sturdy surface to hang shelving on.

We ran conduit through the new walls for electrical wiring and an air line for his air powered tools.

With the walls finished, I sprayed an oil based primer onto the walls and followed that with two coats of an exterior enamel.

The half timbers were painted by hand to match the rest of the buildings.

Tom kept himself busy by building a stout work bench and storage cabinets inside the shop.

We installed fluorescent lights to eliminate shadows and to keep out the chilly Welsh winters, gas fired heaters that hung from the rafters and worked very nicely.

This got me to thinking about installing a set in my own shop for the coming winter.

The final steps were to move his small lathe and mill/drill into the shop and set them up.

Glasses of wine were drunk in celebration of a completed project and we collected our final payment.

Hands were shaken all around and we all parted friends.

Two days later, while I was readying my Norton for a morning ride.

I heard the distinct booming of a big single cylinder motorcycle coming along the driveway.

Looking up I saw Tom's neighbor riding up on his Norton, he stopped and shut off the bike.

I couldn't help admiring the towering engine of his International Norton, it was even more visually impressive than my own model 19S' engine.

He grinned at me and as he was taking off his porridge bowl helmet, Branwen came out of our apartment and asked, "How long did you say you were going to be gone?"

My heart skipped a beat and there was a pause, the neighbor smiled at her and said cheerfully, "Good morning Branwen, and how are you today?"

Branwen smiled back at him and replied politely, "I'm fine thank you, and how is your wife getting along?"

The neighbor, a retired criminal psychiatrist named George Cohen smiled and replied, "She and our daughter are down in Spain on holiday, Spain's climate agrees with her knees, don't you know?"

George smiled at me and said, "I had the old girl out for a gallop, when I realized I was in your neighborhood, I hope you don't mind my popping by?"

Not sure how to react to the revelation that George and Branwen knew each other, I could only smile and say,"Not a bit, in fact I was about to take the 'Old Man' out for a ride myself. He needs to stretch his legs now and then."

"Old Man?" Said Branwen with a raised luxurious eyebrow.

I grinned and replied," He got that nickname when I first got him. I took him out for a ride and was gone for many hours. When I got home again, my mom asked where I had gone for so long. My excuse was that the "Old Man" wanted to look around, so I let him choose where he wanted to go. After that he became the "Old Man."

George burst into laughter when Branwen looked at me quite skeptically and said, "Are you sure you're all together upstairs? I haven't married a looney, have I?"

George grinned and commented, "Not to worry Branwen my dear. Those of us who fool with old machinery will often personalize those machines. We'll talk to them and give them names. We'll even mourn them if they are broken, sold or worse yet, stolen."

Branwen just looked at the two of us grinning at her.

She shook her head and walked back into our apartment, her luxurious tail held quite proudly erect as she walked away.

Pausing at the door, she turned and said, "Do let me know if you're going to let that "Old Man" run off with you again?"

"Yes ma'am!" We both replied as she disappeared our apartment.

George turned his attention to my Norton, "Nice model 19S, don't often see one set up as a fast road machine."

He grinned at the double sided 8 inch front brake, "Stock item wasn't quite enough for you?"

"Not when you're used to disc brakes!"

"Ah!"

Having finished checking the bike over, George smiled as I brought the machine to life with a well timed kick.

As it settled into a slightly fast idle, I quickly donned my riding kit, a Belfast Jacket and open face helmet.

George started up his own bike and put his porridge bowl helmet back on.

He led the way and, soon I was struggling to stay with him as he and his International Norton led me on a merry chase through the ancient hills of Brecknockshire.

He knew a great pub he'd said just before pulling away from me.

I had to respect his riding skills as I followed him into one turn after another, only to see him steadily pulling away from me on the Welsh equivalent of a straightaway.

That 596cc OHC Norton of his definitely had the power advantage over my OHV Norton, also a 596cc.

At long last, he signaled to pull over and we stopped at a well established pub.

One that had weathered the centuries obviously.

Out front were several other bikes, some modern, some ancient.

The flat tank Sunbeam seemed to be the most appropriate bike for this old pub, a pub that considered world war one to be fairly recent.

Even our Nortons seemed a little too contemporary.

We ordered a couple of Welsh pasties and a cup of tea.

Coffee I had learned, was quite expensive but tea was readily available and cheap.

I resolved to get a few large cans sent to me on the Q.T.

Not having tried a Welsh Pastie before, it reminded me of the Filipino empanadas or the tamales I had eaten back in California.

Back outside, George announced he was taking a long loop back to his place.

I begged off saying I would find my way back after stopping off at the filling station we'd passed before stopping at the pub.

George grinned at me and remarked, "If my wife was home, I'd be heading back too. But since I'm reliving my bachelor days, I'm going for a ride!"

We shook hands and parted ways.

My ride home was a reversal of my ride out.

Albeit a bit more sedately.

Hardly had I returned home and put my bike and riding gear away, when I was overwhelmed by a lusty Hellhound in a fit of passion.

Once again, I was thankful that he, the little bastard happily rose to the occasion and embedded himself deep inside Branwen's well muscled pelvic girdle, while I held onto her superb breasts for dear life.

About a month after our wedding, we were cuddled up together in our living room watching the news.

Following a report about representatives traveling from Norway to meet with representatives from the Jotuns still living in the deep forests of Canada about the possible repatriation of a number of Jotun families back to Norway.

There was a brief report of a Hellhound sighting in the vicinity of the ruined Fowlscombe manor.

Local men were being advised not to travel alone if hiking near the ruined structure.

Branwen's wonderful ears perked up and she ceased playing with her favorite toy, me.

"Did you hear that?"

I nodded.

"I thought I was the only one of my kind."

I squeezed her and murmured, "Shall we go have a look at this?"

She sighed and said quietly, "We should, but how would the English react to me? I'm safe here, many people know of me and protect me by keeping mum about me. To go deliberately sticking my furry nose into this, well, it's kinda scary."

I turned off the TV, held her closely and said, "Let's sleep on this and think about it tomorrow after I've snooped around a bit."

Branwen's powerful hand caressed him and she purred, "I like the way you're thinking!"

I won't bore you gentle reader, with the details of what happened next.

Suffice to say, it was, as always, incredible.

The next day, still a little stiff from the working over I got the night before, I got on the internet and snooped around.

Hellhounds it turned out, were a common legend in the more rural parts of England and Wales.

Since Branwen was a genuine Hellhound, she and her sister Hellhounds could be considered a protected species.

Many of the reports I found involved a man (Names withheld) being overpowered by a Hellhound and ravished repeatedly.

No other injuries were reported, no deaths, only ravishings.

Mating to reproduce perhaps? I surmised.

Further reading revealed that several other cryptid species were females only and a human male was required to procreate.

I glanced over at Branwen who was curled up with a book.

She had recently announced that she was pregnant.

While I tried to be more gentle with her during our frequent couplings, her pregnancy certainly hadn't diminished her sex drive that I could see.

She still took command in bed and made certain I knew who was the dominant partner.

One web site seemed to have a lot of good information on cryptids and had the advantage of being connected to an actual institution, the Museum of Cryptozoology.

On that site I saw detailed reports on museum staff activities and videos of actual cryptids interacting with humans.

When I showed Branwen a video of a human male with his lamia wife and children,

she shuddered and mumbled, "They're snakes, really big snakes!"

Pointing out that she herself, was a really scary looking Hellhound would not have been good for my health, so I took the coward's way out and said nothing.

A few moments later, she commented wryly, "Like I have room to talk, I'm a Hell hound! I know I'm scary looking."

Branwen had recently seen her self in a mirror for the first time and was visibly shaken by her appearance, it took a lot of hugging and squeezing to reassure her after that.

The video of three young women playing basketball, seemed to be quite popular with several million views on the counter.

Both Branwen and I shuddered a bit at first when we watched it

One girl looked fully human except for her size, she was a giantess standing nearly eight feet tall with Norse goddess looks and red-gold hair in two long braids.

The other two girls were clearly demi-humans.

One was a pretty lamia with beautiful markings on her massive, pythonesque tail.

The second girl was the one who made both of us shudder slightly.

She was described as being an arachne, a creature with a human female upper half and the lower half of a spider, a spider whose chitinous legs easily spanned 12 feet across.

On her lower abdomen, a mark resembling a violin was plainly visible.

When I saw that mark, I blurted out "She's a giant brown recluse!"

At Branwen's mystified look, I explained, "Brown recluse spiders are quite poisonous, their bite can be quite dangerous. A woman I knew from my old job, nearly lost a leg after she was bitten by one while inspecting a basement underneath an old house. That girl has the characteristic violin mark on her backside. God help the person she bites!"

At her alarmed look, I remarked, "They don't live in Wales."

These girls were playing an all too human sport.

Basketball.

Aside from the 'fantastic beasts' parts of their bodies, they were playing a pretty serious game with only a couple of slight changes made due to their unique physiologies.

The huge pythonesque tail and the chitinous arms and legs had required a few adjustments in technique.

The giantess was clearly the best of the three, being very light on her feet and surprisingly agile, she easily darted and dodged around her somewhat slower adversaries.

The arachne had the last laugh though, her jumping ability was amazing and when she leapt over her opponents and slam dunked the ball while sailing through the air, the looks on her opponents faces was priceless.

I had to laugh when I saw that move and said to my wife gleefully, "Can you imagine a team made up of those ladies? They would dominate!"

Branwen frowned slightly and remarked thoughtfully, "Isn't part of the idea of competitive sports, fair competition? A team made up of these people would dominate like you said, but it wouldn't be fair, nor would they would be as fun to watch."

Having had my brilliant scheme of forming a team of these ladies, so swiftly shot down by my loving and practical wife, I clicked on a different video.

This video was mostly about the giantess at home with her human host.

He had that 'rugged outdoorsman' look about him and Branwen muttered, "He looks like he'd be fun to know."

She smiled at my sidelong glance and said gaily, "Well, he is good looking! Can't a girl look at a good lookin' fellah now and again?"

I grinned and retorted, "That giant girl could be quite interesting in a short skirt, I'll bet she gets checked out a lot!"

Branwen smirked and replied, "That may be so, but she only has eyes for him in case you haven't noticed!"

At my puzzled, dense male look, Branwen happily pointed out.

"A girl in love has a certain look about her, and she has it, even though she tries to hide it."

The video itself was fairly interesting.

The girl's people were called Jotuns and apparently were the inspiration for the frost giants of Norse legend.

She and her companion lived in this big house once built for a circus giant couple.

She was a licensed pilot and had flown their WW2 era sea plane across Canada several times using the many lakes to land on.

The scenes of her human companion playing fetch with a gigantic wolf really caught my attention as the animal was the size of a pony.

Branwen giggled and murmured in my ear, "Don't even think about trying that trick with me! You, will, regret it!"

She nibbled on my ear next, then pushed me onto my back and straddled me.

Grinning up at her, I asked innocently, "And just what, do you think you're doing madame? My wife is a jealous woman!"

Branwen guided me into her warmth and as our hips ground together, she purred, "Why, I am seducing you, my good man! Let her get jealous! What is she going to do? Scratch my eyes out?"

At that, her smouldering eyes flared briefly in her amusement and her hips ground lasciviously around and around, sorely testing my ability to hold back my own climax.

Of course I failed that test, but not before hearing her ecstatic moans while she came again and again.

The next morning, I sent an email to the Museum of Cryptozoology asking for information on Hellhounds.

Two days later there was another news item about a young man being assaulted near the ruined Fowlscombe Manor in Devonshire.

The victim had described a wolflike being with blazing eyes and terrible strength overpowering him and ravishing him until he had passed out.

Once again local authorities advised young men not to travel alone while hiking in that vicinity.

I also got a response from the Museum of Cryptozoology concerning my query about Hellhounds.

Much of the response was incorrect, as Branwen was nothing like the ravenous beast of legend.

The attached images of a Hellhound were speculatory at best.

It was clear they didn't have any real useful information concerning Hellhounds.

There was included a note of caution, advising me not to go poking around Fowlscombe Manor, as if I was planning to pay the place a call.

I showed Branwen the reply and she commented, "They do have parts of it correct, I was supposed to attack and kill you as a part of the blood curse. Fortunately you did not hold up your end of the bargain and we ended up getting married. That was not something foreseen by my grandmother or mother."

"Sorry, I didn't get the memo where it said I was supposed to be a jerk. The lawyer was the jerk instead." I replied.

Branwen grinned and her eyes flared briefly in merriment, "And that was a good thing! The curse got lifted, mom's back home, I got married and now I'm pregnant!"

"Correction!" I grinned back, "We got married and we're now pregnant! Hello! I was there too!"

Branwen smiled and snuggled against me as she murmured, "Yes, you were and I thank you for all that you did for my mother and I."

The next morning we woke up in each other's arms with the bedding scattered across our bedroom as usual, and as usual we had to reassemble the bed before beginning our daily routine.

Over our breakfast, Branwen sipped at her ridiculously expensive coffee and asked, "Are you planning to respond to that email you got from the museum?"

"Not sure yet." I replied,"If I say that much of their information on Hellhounds is wrong, they'll likely ask why I think so, admitting that I'm married to one could be problematic." I paused.

"They'll likely want to see you and interview you at the very least. Are we ready to become a research project?"

I looked at Branwen's smiling face and said, "I think these attacks in Devonshire are by a Hellhound seeking a mate. Your kind may be a females only species that requires a human male to procreate. There are already several other demihuman species that share that trait, lamias and arachne being two of them. Why wouldn't Hellhounds be the same way?"

Branwen looked thoughtful, until very recently she had believed she was the only one of her kind.

Learning that there were others was a real surprise to both of us.

To be truthful, I hadn't given it much thought either.

Our being together was quite the happy accident and simply surviving was our first priority.

I was finding work in the area, mostly simple repairs to the local buildings.

The jobs paid enough to supplement my retirement income and kept me from dipping into my savings from the sale of my parents house and many of my personal items.

The big house was being evaluated for a government grant for partial restoration and possible occupancy.

The only sticking point was that I would have to allow limited public access as part of the deal, that step I wasn't quite ready to take.

Not with a now pregnant Branwen in the mix.

A week later, I responded to the email from the Museum of Cryptozoology.

I began by thanking them for their email, then I raised the issue of why the Hell hounds would attack solely young men.

Citing the examples of lamias and arachnes, I postulated that perhaps they were seeking to mate for the purposes of procreation as the Hellhounds may indeed, be a females only species.

I purposely left out any mention of Branwen.

It was after the third report in the news of a young man getting ravished near the ruined Fowlscombe Manor that Branwen remarked, "I want to meet this person."

Looking at her in surprise, I replied with my own question, "You want to meet the victim or the Hellhound? Would that be a good idea? He might be pretty traumatized and she might want to fight."

"I'd like to meet both of them actually."

Her reply left me at a bit of a loss for words and in a quandary, how could I, a foreigner, arrange such meetings?

Branwen's offhand remark left me with little choice but to actually visit the ruined Fowlscombe Manor.

Branwen herself had once commented that she could tell when I had been playing with a neighbor's dog as she could smell the animal's scent on my person.

Figuring that if I actually was to run into this other Hellhound, she might smell Branwen's scent on me and I'd be relatively safe.

When I casually mentioned this to her, her eyes flared briefly, she smiled wickedly and growled softly, "And what makes you think I would allow you to get any where near, another woman like me?"

Then she pounced.

After thoroughly re-establishing her sexual dominance over me, we fell asleep in each other's arms.

Branwen's warm furry body snuggled around me as I nuzzled her wonderful bosom in my contentment, how could I even contemplate leaving her for any other woman?

Even though Queen Mab herself had directed me to father children with Janice Llewellyn and Branwen herself had not objected.

I had not even tried to copulate with Janice even though she certainly had a nice body in a boyish sort of way and was willing.

I just couldn't bring myself to do the deed even though I knew the Fae queen herself desired it, I just couldn't and I knew I was running out of excuses.

The irony of my situation was pretty funny actually, only I was the butt of the joke.

Sucks to be me sometimes.

Three days later, there was a reply from the museum in my inbox, it read:

" Dear Mr. Blank.

Thank you for your remarks of the 25th of September.

Your postulation that Hellhounds may be a females only species raises an interesting point.

Our own researcher in this affair, relates that historical references to Hellhounds invariably describe the creature as being female and the victims as being male.

Would it be possible for our researcher to meet with you for further discussion in this matter?

Naturally the meeting would occur at your convenience and at a place of your choosing.

Warmest regards,

Peter Marshall

Assistant Director, Museum of Cryptozoology, British Isles Division."

I showed the email to Branwen and waited for her response.

She looked thoughtful, her eyes like glowing coals in a fireplace, with an occasional flame licking up from the hearth.

She smiled at me and her eyes flared briefly when she said," Tell them you will meet their researcher here and you'll look at their evidence."

She grinned toothily and remarked, "Then I will introduce myself!"

Knowing better than to argue, I nodded and typed in my response.

"Dear Peter,

I can meet with your researcher at my home.

Blank Manor, Brecon Wales.

Saturday 10th November at 10:00 A.M.

In addition to myself, my wife Branwen and Janice Llewellyn PhD Brecon Beacons National Park Astro-Archaeologist will also be there.

Regards,

Blank"

I hit 'send' and moments later, it was on its way.

I turned around and looked at Branwen who was sitting cross legged as she was wont to do and said, "Welp, It's done I sent the invite, now we'll see what happens when they see you!"

Branwen smiled at me and replied thoughtfully,"It's about time the world learns of our existence. We hid because the church persecuted us. Now the church has to acknowledge us and atone for our persecution. If lamias and arachnes and the Jotuns can come out of hiding, then so can I and my sisters!"

She grinned and growled softly, her voice little more than a throaty purr. "Now, be a good boy and come over here."

I happily complied with her demands and our coupling was tumultuous and filled with joy.

Joy in our love for each other, joy in our good health and just plain joy.

I had never thought of myself as being particularly attractive to women.

Oh sure, I'd had my girlfriends and a few flings here and there but compared to some of the guys at work who bragged of their conquests, I was a monk safely ensconced in my cell atop Mount Athos in Greece.

Branwen changed everything...And now I was married and about to become a father.

Her growing belly did not hinder our sex life in the least, if anything it enhanced it and all I could do was try to keep up.

November 10th or as they write it much of the world, 10 November arrived cold and crisp.

There was snow on the ground outside our apartment and the Brecon Beacons were cloaked in white.

The big house was locked up as usual as we were not living in it, the complete lack of modern amenities discouraged thoughts of inhabiting it and I was still waiting on the Welsh government to decide on my application for funds to restore the house.

We had spent the night inside it a few times, the thick walls absorbing Branwen's howls of pleasure as we made love.

Janice Llewellyn had arrived early to cheerfully announce that she was indeed, pregnant by me.

While queen Mab had wished for us to have children together to strengthen the ancient bloodline of the Cymru kings.

I had hesitated until a letter arrived from under the hollow hills.

Queen Mab wanted to know how Janice's pregnancy was coming along.

Not being able to put it off anymore, I had reluctantly slept with Janice Llewellyn.

The physical contrast between her and Branwen was remarkable and yet she proved to be a very willing co-conspirator in our efforts impregnate her.

For having such a slender, boyish figure, she was quite the little minx in her own right and had I not been married to Branwen, she would've made a good wife.

Janice was smiling at us as she held up the home pregnancy test kit results.

The color indicator was a solid green color for a positive test result.

She blushed slightly and said, "We did it! Our first child is on the way."

She caressed her still flat stomach and said, "Your own child will have a half sibling shortly after she is born."

Branwen grinned and said,"we're gonna have to fix up a place for you here. That way we can support each other."

A few minutes before the hour, a nondescript tan Vauxhall Saloon car stopped outside our apartment.

Branwen said softly, "Our guests have arrived."

"Guests?" I asked.

"Yes, guests, I'm hearing two heartbeats." She replied as she slipped out of the living room.

I stepped outside as our guests exited their car.

The man, a mature gentleman about my own height with a slender build smiled as he extended his gloved hand and said. "Mister Blank? I'm Peter Marshall, pleased to meet you!"

we shook hands briefly while the woman of stocky build, stood quietly gazing at the massive house cloaked in white.

She turned and smiled as she too extended her hand, "Evelyn Granger, you can call me Evie. Pleasure to meet you at last. Your emails have been quite interesting."

She jerked a thumb at the house and remarked,"Quite the history that place has, I'd love to see inside it sometime."

I smiled and replied, "It's mostly empty now, there was some family portraits inside it once but those were sold off some years ago, unfortunately."

Gesturing towards the larger of the barns, I said, "If you'll come with me, we can get out of this cold!"

Moments later, we were inside the apartment removing our overcoats and hanging them on the coat rack near the front door.

Evelyn had with her a bulky notebook and a couple of other volumes while Peter had his own note pad and laptop.

Janice Llewellyn stood up and introduced herself, Evelyn it turned out, was familiar with her work and had a copy of her report on the big house with the segment on the now missing standing stone highlighted in yellow.

Taking our seats around the dining room table, I looked at our guests and said, "This is my first time actually meeting any of you in person. Tell me about yourselves and your museum if you don't mind."

Peter cleared his throat and began,"The Museum of Cryptozoology has been around for several centuries, in fact we are one of the oldest museum and research organizations around."

He cleared his throat,

"We worked in the background for the church at one time, until we severed our connections to the Holy see over their using our findings to persecute cryptids."

He took a sip of his tea and continued,"In the last decade or so, we have emerged from our bookstacks and grimoires to carefully reveal to the world the creatures that have existed in our shadows. For obvious reasons, we are not revealing all that we know. Some creatures prefer to remain hidden and out of respect for their wishes, we shall be honoring their requests."

At that point, Evelyn took over,"My area of expertise is cryptids of the British Isles."

She patted her bulky notebook, "This volume holds my notes concerning the Hellhound legends peculiar to the British Isles. Your remarks about Hellhounds are largely why I am here."

She grinned at Janice and said cheerfully, "I did not expect to meet the author of a research paper I have referred to in my own research!"

Janice smiled at her remarks and replied,"I'm happy that my own research has proven useful to you. Thank you!"

Evelyn looked at me closely and asked, "How is it you came by your conclusions about Hellhounds being a females only species and that their attacks on lone men are actually for the purposes of procreation?"

She glanced out the window at the big house outside and muttered, "This house itself has a Hellhound legend associated with it. Which is unusual, as most of the legends are based in England itself."

After a moment of thought I replied,"I came by my conclusion from personal experience and by observation."

Evelyn's eyes narrowed and she said tersely, "Go on...We're listening."

Smiling at them I called out, "Branwen? Would you be a dear and come into the living room please? Our guests would like to meet you!"

Evelyn and Peter exchanged glances and the merest of shrugs.

The door into the rest of the apartment opened and Branwen stepped into the living room.

Evelyn and Peter sat perfectly still, only the widening of their eyes betrayed any emotions.

Branwen stood smiling at them, her baby bump in plain sight.

She was wearing a short skirt and a short sleeve top showing off her impressive cleavage to advantage.

They could plainly see her muscular arms and legs, her fur covered forearms and lower legs and massive, clawed hands and feet.

Her eyes fairly blazed in her amusement at their reactions and her great wolflike ears angled to better hear their utterances.

"Evelyn and Peter, this is Branwen, my wife. Branwen, this is Evelyn Granger and Peter Marshall, they are here to meet you."

Branwen smiled and said politely, "Hello! I'm pleased to meet you!"

Evelyn's pale blue eyes rolled up into her head and she fainted in her chair, she would have fallen to the floor, had Peter not quickly caught her and held her steady in her seat.

Peter managed a, "A pleasure to meet you too. As you can see, my associate is delighted to see you."

As he grinned while holding Evelyn steadily in her seat.

Branwen smiled again and said teasingly, "If that's what you want to call her fainting, I'm fine with that."

Peter smiled back and remarked cheerfully, "Evelyn's usually pretty level headed about meeting cryptids. She didn't even bat a lash when she met a visiting lamia who had come to see our research regarding her kind. Although, you Hellhounds are her particular interest and seeing you in the round...Well, she'll come around shortly."

Branwen came and sat beside me and I squeezed her hand.

Evelyn's reaction upon seeing her was not what she had expected and it did bother her a little bit.

Branwen did not want people to be afraid of her, she wanted to be accepted.

She wanted her long years of hiding to end and for her child to be unafraid of being seen.

Evelyn's eyes soon fluttered open and she sat up, her eyes blinking rapidly.

She looked at Peter said apologetically, "I'm sorry, I did not meant to faint like I did, I hope I wasn't a bother."

She then looked at us, in particular, she looked at Branwen.

Evelyn smiled and said thickly,"I cannot tell you how happy I am to meet you."

She sighed, dabbed at a tear and said glumly,"And silly me had to go and faint like some silly little school girl meeting a pop star."

Branwen reached out a massive, clawed hand and gently squeezed Evelyn's hands, she said soothingly, "That's quite all right, I was expecting a torrent of exclamations like Janice here did when we first met. Your fainting episode was a bit unexpected, I must admit."

Evelyn laughed and retorted, "Yes, fainting was not on my short list of preferred reactions!"

Evelyn smiled at Branwen, "I have studied your kind for many years, coming to the museum as a researcher only deepened my desire to learn more about your kind."

She chuckled and remarked,"I first heard of Hellhounds when I read that famous story by Arthur Conan Doyle as a school girl. Then I began seeing other accounts of Hellhounds in far older sources."

Laying her free hand on her bulky notebokk, she said,"I came to the realization that most, if not all of the accounts of Hellhound attacks were of a solitary man being ravished by what had to be a female assailant. The Conan Doyle story while quite dramatic, was highly innaccurate and no doubt reflected the societal mores of the Victorian era. Victorian society would have been highly scandalized had the Hellhound in the story ravished her male victims rather than tearing them to pieces, as depicted."

Evelyn took Branwen's massive, clawed hand in hers, squeezed it and said happily, "Now I find myself sitting at a dining room table, holding a real, live Hellhound by the hand and rattling on about my favorite subject...Hellhounds!"