Imbolc was upon us. The celebration of spring being more than just drinks and merrymaking to our kind, it was when mating season and no adult male of our clan would be able to stop the shift or the need for the hunt. As night fell the whole village was enjoying the festivities, the crowds drinking, dancing, eating and laughing. As the moon rose my blood hummed with the need to shift as the women gathered in the ceremonial circle readying to flee, giggles and excited chatter coming from them.
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