Excerpt: unknown as of yet

She remembered the wooden statue. When the monks with their knights and swords had come to the hamlet, she ran, and hid the statue in the rotted knot in a tree. She bespoke the word of power, the word of hiding. Begging someone, some spirit to guard the statue. Guard the oak lady her uncle loved so well. She felt the power leave her, someone had heard. She knew she should crawl into the knot too. But her uncle was in trouble, the pack was under attack. She could feel their need from here. The statue called for her to come back, to hide, be safe. It was too late the young pup was already running to her pack, to her doom.
She ran through the woods, her bare feet making no sound. She loosed the dagger at her side, ready to draw in a moment when needed. She knew she had time to run back and hide, but her uncles pain called to her. She ran up the hill, home was on the other side. She stopped just short of the crest and crawled until she could see below. What she saw terrified her. The pack was nearly descimated. Some fought as wolves, others choosing to fight as men. They had formed a defensive circle, but wolves had never been ones for shields. Archer's were picking them off as the knights kept them trapped.
The archer's backs were unprotected. Taryn knew if she could sneak down and take them out, her pack would have a chance. A twig snapped behind her, she turned and rolled into a crouch, only to have a sword at her neck. She took in his boots, a fine leather, up his leggings to the chain mail shirt, a white tunic with a black and red cross. He was a warmonk of Saint Drake's order. The ones who hunted wolves, purging humanity of the demon's presence. She looked up to the monks eyes, a cystal silver blue and snapped her eyes back to the sword, To the families insignia. Her father... she growled her anger at the betrayl.
"you didn't really think I would come all this way, and not see my daughter... did you?" he sneered condescendingly. He had been skipped by the change. Her uncle said he had not been blessed by the spirits, that they had seen the anger in his heart, and so with held their giftings, the family trait.
When her mother had witnessed her first change, she hid the young pup from her father, fearing that he would become enraged. She smuggled her daughter to her husbands people. Her brother in law would be able to protect the child. When she returned to her husband, she told him that the child had become lost, ran off in the woods. Some days later, she slaughtered and butchered a young pig, she left pieces of the pig as well as her daughters shawl, as though the child had been eaten by a wold beast.
The man believed her, and killed her for her 'negligence', for the loss of his child. The news reached pack ears slowly, by the time her uncle had called for a hunt to avenge the brave womens murder, the man had fled. Some said he was broken hearted, others said he was enraged, but most agreed he was mad. stark raving mad.
She stared bravely into the eyes of her father. They were glazed over, irrational, too far impassioned by the fanatical teachings of the saint drake's. She batted the blade to the side, cutting deeply into her forearm. she lunged, drew her dagger and plunged it into the soft of his belly. a slow death as deserved a coward.
"You monster!" he screamed as he clubbed her over the head with the hilt of her blade. Her world went black.