That night, not a terribly important at the time (though that would change in the future) was a clear one. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the full moon shone brightly down on the countryside. Mari could see the stars clearly, except for at the horizon where the city's lights drowned out the shimmering points, as she ran toward the forest. A chill wind, the first hint of winter, blew across the open land, causing her to pull her light jacket closer around her body and curse at herself for not taking some heavier clothing with her.

Ahead of her, Mari could see the light of the lantern that Mori had taken into the forest with her. It shone brighter than it should have, and Mari shuddered at the thoughts of what might be causing it to act like that. With that thought, she sped up, running as fast as she could, hoping she could get to her sister in time. She knew she wouldn't make it, but still she clung to the thought that a miracle might occur and get her there in time.

A shrill cry pierced the night, sending a chill straight through Mari that was even more powerful than the wind. The noise could not have come from a human's throat, so unnatural was the sound of it. Mari had to stop for a moment and gather her courage, since the sound made her want to run back to the cabin and hide herself where whatever being had made the noise could never find her. For a moment the world around her seemed to waver with the force of the sound, and Mari forced herself to keep running.

The sound had come from above. Mari was afraid to look up, because she knew what she would see there. A huge shadowy figure, like a bird but clearly not one, would be blocking her view of the stars above. Mari knew that if it was light out she would be able to see the inhumanly beautiful face on the creature, and it was that that she was most afraid of. It was heading for the forest, to claim its own.

She could not outrun the creature, and she knew it. At that moment her last shred of hope that she would be able to make it in time dissolved, leaving only the sickening certainty that she would have a gruesome sight when she arrived. She considered turning back, hiding from the truth, but she shook her head and stubbornly continued to run. She wouldn't leave her sister alone, even if she couldn't get there in time.

The light of the lantern continued to shine too brightly as she entered the forest, running back and forth between the thickening trees. The light from above started to filter out as the trees closed in around her. Another flash of panic tried to overwhelm her as the last sliver of the moon disappeared from her sight, and she was forced to pause, leaning against a tree and breathing heavily. She wished she could go back out into the open, where the moon's silver light would continue to shine on her and make her feel it was all right, but she knew she had to go forward.

It was another cry from the creature, as it sank into the trees ahead of her, that shocked Mari into moving again. The tree she was leaning on seemed to shiver as she let go of it and started forward again. Then the lantern she was watching fell to the ground, breaking open and going out. The trees seemed to react to the loss of the lantern's light, as they started to emit an eerie green light. There was still another bright light coming from ahead, and the combination of the trees and that light gave Mari enough light to make her way toward her sister.

Finally Mari made it to the clearing where Mori was crouched on the ground. The creature loomed above her, its inhuman face twisted into a grimace of pain as Mori waved something at it, desperately trying to keep it away from her. The object was glowing with an intense white light that hurt Mari's eyes, though it seemed to be hurting the creature even more. Mari tried to move forward, to aid her sister, but she quickly ran into an invisible wall that burned her when she touched it.

The glow of the trees was more intense on the other side of the invisible wall, washing the creature in green so that it wasn't immediately obvious that its giant body, a patchwork of feathers and scales, was black. The light reflected off the smooth surface of the horns that stuck out on either side of its utterly inhuman face that was, at the same time, all too human-seeming. The sight caused Mari to shudder, and the tears that she had been holding in the whole time suddenly were too much for her to handle. She started sobbing as she watched the scene play out in front of her, unable to reach her sister and try to help.

"Don't do it!" she yelled at her sister desperately. That caused Mori to look her way, keeping the creature at bay with the glowing object that she still held in front of her. She smiled sadly at her sister, shaking her head silently. One last time, Mari cried out her sister's name. "Morilynn!!"

Then, she mouthed a few words. The area around her went completely silent, even the hideous screeching of the creature, though no noise had come from her. The glowing object in her hand flashed brighter, so bright that Mari had to look away or be blinded. The light coming from the trees brightened in response, turning a deeper, more vibrant, green, and a peaceful aura washed over Mari and the forest surrounding her. The blinding light and silence continued for a few minutes before the light faded and the sound of the wind through the trees above resumed gently.

Mari turned her head back to the clearing, afraid that she already knew what she was going to see there. Her worst fears were realized, as she saw that the creature was gone and that her sister lay limply on the ground where she had stood before. The green light of the trees continued, casting its peaceful, but eerie, light over Mori's form. It gave a green tint to her normally ash blonde hair, which already seemed duller than it should have been.

Mari pressed her hand forward timidly to see if the invisible wall was still there. Her hand met no resistance, so she rushed forward to where her sister lay still and lifeless on the ground. She picked up Mori's body and shook it, begging for her to open her eyes and say something, but the body did not respond.

The melted remains of what used to be a silver cross lay in the hand Mori had been holding up. It had been the source of the bright light, and Mari knew then that the words her sister had mouthed were those of a silent prayer, asking for the strength to defeat the hideous creature in front of her. Mari knew that the defeat of the creature had been too much for her already weak sister to take, and she continued to weep over her sister's beautiful, but bloodstained, body.

Some length of time later (Mari had lost track of how long she spent crying over Mori's body), a sound other then Mari's sobs and the sound of the wind rushing through the trees broke the relative stillness of the clearing. It was a baby's cry, coming from nearby and muffled by something. The sound surprised Mari, and she immediately looked up from her sister's body and around the clearing, searching for the source of the sound.

Mari quickly found the source of the cries, as she spotted a small hand barely sticking up through the churned soil a few feet from Mori's body. She all but dropped the body then and hurried over to the hand, scrabbling at the dirt hurriedly. Before long she had cleared out enough of a hole for the baby, which was wailing at the top of his lungs, to breathe. By then, she couldn't help but pause in her digging to stare,.

She knew the baby; he was her sister's and had been born just a few hours earlier. The birth had been bloody and difficult for Mori, but both had survived, even if it had left Mori terribly weak. Mari had been there, had helped her sister give birth, and when she saw the baby she knew that he had changed since then.

He had been a normal baby when he emerged from Mori, energetic and less than pleased to be out of his mother's womb. Now, as Mori stared at the tiny form still half buried in the ground, she was surprised to find that his skin had turned dark and scaled, almost black in color. There were sharp claws on the stubby fingers of his hand, and Mari had to be careful to stay out of the way of his flailing, since she had already gotten cut once. His face looked twisted and cruel, even as he cried, and she could also see what she thought were two small, black leathery wings sticking up from the dirt that was still packed around most of the his body.

With a quick shake of her head, Mari forced herself to finish digging the baby out. Her suspicion about the wings proved to be correct. She carefully lifted him out of the ground, though he continued to flail and cry, and she got several scratches from the claws on his hands and feet. She cradled him carefully, whispering softly to try and get him to calm down. It took a few minutes, but finally the baby grew calmer and Mari was able to return to Mori's body.

She found a note laying on top of the body when she got over there. It hadn't been there before, and Mari shuddered to think of what might be going on. It had her name on the envelope, in Mori's writing. She cradled the baby on one arm and picked the note up with her free hand to read it.

Mari stared at the note for a while, tears silently rolling down her cheeks and splashing on the paper. Then, angrily, she crumpled up the paper and threw it down onto her sister's body. She looked around the clearing, finally spotting where Mori had thrown the blanket the baby had been wrapped in. Silently, she walked over to where it was and wrapped the baby up.

As she was doing so, the baby shifted in her arms. He stared up at her with eyes that seemed far too intelligent and knowing, and cruel, for a newborn barely four hours old. Then, right in front of her eyes, his skin seemed to crawl, and his form shifted back to that which she had seen right after he was born. The scaled skin returned to the dark skin that his father had had. The claws and wings disappeared. He retained the too intelligent eyes, but the inhuman, twisted look on his face disappeared. Then, he fell asleep in Mari's arms.

She shuddered, partly out of fright, partly from the cold. Then she started to walk out of the forest. She had stopped crying, and she suspected that her tears had dried up for a very long time. When she reached the cabin where their family was staying she locked herself in her room with the baby. She left a note in the common room, explaining that Mori had killed herself and tried to kill the baby, and that her body was laying in the woods.

Then she lay down on her bed and tried to cry again.