As we stood at the summit of Darrell Hill, the darkness of night enveloped the forest, shrouding it in shadows. Setting up a makeshift camp, Cam took charge of arranging a sleeping area while I grappled with starting a fire. After a few failed attempts, I finally succeeded, and we gathered around the crackling flames to keep warm. Heating some canned food, I alleviated our hunger, and then Cam broached the topic of our impending werewolf transformation, expressing apprehension about the potential loss of control if we changed.

"I have no idea," I confessed. "We'll have to face it when the time comes. Maybe if we can find the wolf who turned us, it might give us some answers."

"But we don't even know where to begin searching," Cam rebutted.

"You're right," I sighed. "Let's concentrate on reaching Creston, the neighbouring town. We should be careful, as the wolf might still be lurking around in the woods."

We ate in contemplative silence, pondering the events of the past two days, before settling down to rest. The chilly breeze hinted at the imminent arrival of colder months, while the stars sparkled and danced while the crescent moon stood guard over us as we slumbered.