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Wolf’s Hunt

Tweet of the Day: Photography: Summer Morning in Middle Head


Present Day Athelney,  Somerset, England.

Liberating the remains from the pit took days. Days turned into weeks as the team waited for the lab analysis on the hair fibers extracted from mask.

It came back. The hairs belonged to Canis lupus lupus, also know as the Euroasian wolf.

The question remained, was it some kind of ceremonial burial, a sacrifice of some sort or something else entirely? In the local library,Lizbeth poured over the photos of taken at the dig site on her tablet.

The librarian pushed a cart full of books behind her,”Oh, is that a werewolf?”

Liz almost fell out of her chair, “Excuse me?”

The librarian pushed her spectacles up her long thing nose, “Well it sort of does, doesn’t it, or maybe it looks like those funny pictures I saw once on the beep, maybe it was BBC two or maybe three, I’m sure it was three, about how people in the dark ages believed in villages full of dog people or something.”

“That idea predates the middle ages, but yes, some people believe that,” said Lizbeth, hand in her chest. She check to see if her heart had not burst through her chest. That fact that it did not calmed her further, “But the mask is made of a wolf’s head, not a dog.”

“So it was some old lunatic pretending to be a werewolf or something, to scare the children,” said the librarian, eyes locked on Lizbeth’s tablet.

“I don’t know about that, but I suppose it would be very scary if…”

“If what?”

“If you met something like that in the dark,” said Lizbeth absentmindedly.

Alfred was waging a guerrilla campaign against the Norsemen.


“Oh no, thank you dear, is Mrs. Reynolds. It’s down that aisle,to the left,” said the librarian, a long bony arm pointed somewhere deep in the bowels of the library.

Lizbeth bolted out of her chair with a quick thanks.

“No running in the library, dear,” said the librarian as Lizbeth rounded the corner.


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