*Lynn*

The child leaned in close to the bundle in his arms, either not knowing or not caring the thing held was diseased.

It was a small rabbit, no older than a few months. Its fur was the color of ivory, but long, black tendrils of decay broke up the white. The thing was scratched or bitten by whatever was causing the curse in the woods.

Whatever it was, it was getting closer.

I crouched down before the boy and smiled. I took a hand and whispered, ...