Bri At some point in the night, the nightmares of the beatings and confinement washed away. I dreamed of golden eyes and russet wolves moving through the swampland. It was so vivid, the smells of musk, sulfur, and decaying things filled my phantom head. It was like seeing the swamp with new eyes, hearing every heartbeat, feeling the primordial essence that ran through the land. The earth, water, and air came together there and fire lived within the spirit of its creatures. Sparks of magic no one else would notice linger in the depths of inky water and vast miles of uncharted clusters of cypress. But I could, each and every spirit, every tendril of magic called to me like a song in my soul. I awoke in darkness, the soft moonlight coming through the window, cocooned in the scent of, damp dog, the swamp, and a deep sort of spicy musk that made my toes curl. A large furry body was curved into the backs of my legs but I knew who he was. The Big Guy, the Rougarou, yet he looked like a ver
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