"Mama, tell me the story of the Night Children," requested the young girl. She had heard it many times before, her mother wouldn't be surprised if the girl had memorized it.

"Okay sweetheart. A few hundred years ago in this very town, is when it happened. There was a group of young adults, maybe 30 in all. They weren't marked for either trouble making or helping, they played pranks but they also helped, they seemed to have a healthy dose of each. Their group was mostly made up of men, but there seemed to be a few women in there as well. Well anyway, if I remember correctly, this seemingly one group was actually two groups. The followers in each group enjoyed each other's presence, but it seemed the leaders of the groups hated each other." The mother paused, and looked down at her sleeping child's face.

"Mama, I'm not asleep, please continue," the young girl tiredly pleaded to her mother.

"Okay. On December 31st, 1538, it was said they all went into the forest, to celebrate the new year. It was rumoured in the village that somebody heard wolf howls, and the moon looked like it had blood on it. None of the group came back the next day, the village waited years, none of them came back. Now, ignoring the warnings the villagers gave, every 10 years at least two kids, always an even number, will go into the forest, and never return. It is said, every full moon, if you listen closely, you can hear wolves." As the mother finished her story, she looked down again, her daughter was looking up at her.

"Didn't we never have wolves in the forest? I heard from the baker that wolves used to be a myth before that night. Also, Mama, weren't we related to one of them?" The girl asked, curiosity wide in her pale green eyes.

"Yes. Yes we did. He was one of the leaders, his name was Jason." The mother said. There was a great deal of sadness in her eyes.