October 14'th.



The full moon died now. The change was less painfull than few times before, and the time I spent in my wolf form was the most amazing. I always enjoyed it so much. Even though I rarely allow myself to change completely. I always stay in control of my mind, letting the wolf nature to take over only of my body and instincts. There's nothing more exciting and overwhelming than the heat and speed of the chase, when there's just nightwind, the forest, the soft ground covered with withered leafs under my fast paws and the scent of the prey's fear, as i approach it with the eternal question "I am Death, are you ready to go?".Nothing really thrills just as much, yet, probably sharing this sensation with someone would..

I've never hunted in company. My father who was a werewolf as well, which makes me a naturally born werewolf, (and a true Alpha), was hunted out by one of the Ritter family and burned. I remember my mother hurriedly taking me away, to prevent me from observing my father's horrible death, that came for him in the deadly heat of the execution fire. He died before I actually realized that I have this in me, the very same curse that he was condemned and executed for, by humankind. I was too young to understand his crimes, and theremore to master the power that was in me. And of course being dead, he could not be there with me to guide me through the most strange and unknown world that opened before my eyes, yet so innocent and unprepared, when I found out what i was for the first time.

I felt strangely sick, when I was about 12.I don't remember much, but the feverish fire that was tormenting my body and my mind, making me scream in agony. Mother was terryfied, probably by my condition, but more likely, because she forsaw what was about to follow.

I remember everything that happened some time after quite vaguely.I watched the colours shange, everything becoming more bright, contrast, vibrating, shimmering in red.the sounds, the scents, everything astoundingly vivid and strong. And then, I was running through the nearby woods, a young cub, clumsy and uncertain , but free and wild. It's strange that I actually survived without any guidance or tutorage, but to my luck I did.and I've been somehow a most happy child. Thank God, our little house(no comparison to the old mansion we inhabited when father was alive) was situated on the very edge of the village, almost out of it, and somehow the forest started right outside our backyard. I spent hours in the sanctuary of the woods, running and playing, lost in a whirl of my fantasies and excited by the way everything seemed so alive to me in my wolf form..everything replied, and was interacting with me, each tree or flower. I never thought that my change was to be something out of the ordinary. While the young wolf was running through the wood, the boy's hand would reach for the berry that grew too high for an animal. It was so easy.and so good to feel those two sides of myself being united in harmony. I indeed was quite happy, before I started realizing things that I shouldn't have. Mother avoided to talk about my nature, but what made a first scar in my heart, was her barely hidden fear and reluctance to hug me as she usually did before my first change, when I was coming back home after my journeys to the woods in the wolf form. Seemed like she was afraid of me.and It felt so painfully strange. The first time someone's inner fear made me feel rejected and hurt, and that was a beginning for many more expiriences like this one.The irony, was that it was my mother, who started this sad tradition.

And then, as I grew older and was sent to Munich to study, the realisation of how things were for truth fell upon me. I was young and hopefull, filled with joy,like any other young men in the school, and then in the university, and yet utterly different. I was quite communicative and friendly by nature, so I never expirienced a lack of pals, whom I used to call friends, but as time went, more and more I felt the wall that separated us. Ad this wall was my secret, that changed from my pleasant self into something shameful and almost sinful, that I needed to hide from anyone. I felt trapped like an animal in a cage that the city of stone and coldhearted people became to me. There were no forests for me to escape to, no places peaceful and lonely enough to let myself change and wander freely, enjoying the hunt and the freedom. And then I found out that not changing for a long time, makes me ache.makes me grow tense and agressive. Makes me loose control at times..Now I've learned to master my instincts and desires to aa level i would almost call perfect, but then, I actually was not even familiar with the conflict. By that time I haven't yet killed.a human being.

Like all youths, I didn't py attention to time passing by, untill my mother died. Silently and peacefully, as they said, in a dream. I was out of the university by that time, and quite busy, being enchanted with the capital's nightlife, music, operahouses, poilitics.I was willingly rushing myself into anything new, enticed by the amazing sensations of vice, way too much, not even to come to her at her dying hour. I felt the guilt for this, many years later. But yet, this loss made me actually realize I was utternly alone from this time on. And then, there came the call of the pack.

This , I suppose is the natural feeling of all wolves and therefore the halflings like myself. We long for company, or to say more precisely for a single companion, a mate, a partner.Somehow, I've browsed through quite a lot of the books that were referring to my own kind, and haven't yet meeting anyone like my own self, I already knew quite a lot about what I was, and sincerely saying, I didn't find myself just as awful and cruel as the books depicted us. And that's why I knew that this cold and empty feeling, a teasing ache, a growing depression were the first sign of the call of the pack. The desire not to be alone any longer, that actually doesn't come to werewolves only, but is quite frequent to all living beings . And that's where I enoucntered the greatest problem there is for me. I've been dating many young and quite respectful ladies of high society, never being very much in love, but at least being quite infatuated. They all were so fragile and well mannered.I liked being near them, but i could never imagine them in wolf-form by my side.more likely I could see them fainting only hearing me confiding about my true double-sided self.

Being a young man I was I still found pleasure in everything I share with those young flowers, but.as time passed, and I actually realized that after reaching the age of full maturity, time has stopped for me, my thoughts grew darker and gloomier from year to year.

As I read through those pages, now all covered with those black lines, dots, digits, caught from the void of my past, by my hand, I wonder if this dirary is turning into my memoirs. Probably I should publish it one day? I wonder what stage of my life I am heading to, if I have that sudden and unresistable urge to observe my whole life, and to look back on all those events of the past.

Finally returning to nowadays, I must say that this idea with the Hunters Lodge was quite a good one of mine.Gathering all those fine people together, at least gives me a chance to spend a nice evening among people, who match my interests and who share my phylosophy at least in some way.and Garr seems to be the brightest of them. Yes, quite snobbish and morose at times, but he's so wonderfully perfect at everything he does. He posesses that amazing self-confidence and strength, that is so rarely encountered among people now.I like him, yes, I definitely do. He is an interesting conversation companion, and quite a partner I might say..probably he's the one?