the curse of dark mountain

This was it, though his time in Risen’s care should have long ended. Before anything like this was allowed to happen. He looked up to Pyrrhic, worry in his gaze, as the older boy stared down at him. Had Erystotle known his history better his birth and subsequent abandonment another part of the curse. Or maybe the origin of the curse. He was supposed to die not long after birth, yet he was still here. A gift for the gods stolen away from them.

The land he’d come from was not one that was merciful, living sacrifice to their gods in the form of flesh of all ages. Erys would never know the huge kindness his mother did for him in sending him away, and for now he’d believe himself cursed for the events leading up to this moment. What did he mean?

”Bad.. bad things happen around me.” He offered up, ready to be chased away. ”Lydia found me, and Kesali took me in. Now she’s dead and Kesali is… gone. You took me in, and..” the young wolf whimpered softly as he offered a timid glance to the eastern lands. ”I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything before.” Blue marked ears clung tightly to his head as silver eyes returned to Pyrrhic.