Then one time when I was walking in the woods I met him by himself coming back from a hunting trip.
Everybody looked up to him, you know, young as he was. Lodge Meeting nights, more and more often they had him to lead the singing. He had such a beautiful voice, and he’d lead off strong, and the others following and joining in, high voices and low. I
It’s the moon’s fault, and the blood. It was in his father’s blood. I never knew his father, and now I wonder what become of him.
The husband came back in, all worn out and beaten, the youngest cried and tried to hide, and yelled "Make it go away! Make it go away!
The hair begun to come away all over his body. It was like his hair fried away in the sunlight and was gone. He was white all over then, like a worm’s skin. And he turned his face. It was changing
My sister’s teeth were in its throat. I got there and it was dead. The others were drawing back from the kill, because of the taste of the blood, and the smell.