His words left us silent.

Then he said with a deliberate voice, “But which of their neighbors had been overtaken by the glow of the full moon was never discovered.”

“No—” Abby said.

“Still, generations later, underneath a full moon, the werewolf can be seen but has never been captured,” Nash instructed. “By day he is an ordinary man, descended from that unlucky citizen of Legend’s Run. But by night and under the curse of the moon, his eyes turn red, his muscles bulge, his teeth grow sharp, and he is covered with fur. A half man, half wolf who is tortured by his condition and threatening to anyone in his path.”

Then he looked at each one of us. “Could the werewolf of Legend’s Run have been one of your ancestors?” he wondered out loud.

The firelight cast ominous shadows against Nash’s face, distorting his normally perfect features. His nose seemed as long as a warlock’s, his ears pointy, his hair savagely spiky. His hazel eyes appeared fiery red.

He glared at us again. “Which one of us could be the Legend’s Run werewolf’s descendant?”

“Not me!” Abby blurted out.

Just then a gruesome howl was heard off in the distance.

Startled, I squeezed Ivy’s hand. She let out a scream.

“Nash! You’re scaring us!” Ivy charged.

“He’s just fooling around,” Jake assured.

Even Nash appeared startled. His eyes darted away from us. We heard the wailing again.

“I guess that could be your mom?” Dylan joked.

But Nash wasn’t laughing.

Wolves weren’t prone to approaching people or populated campsites, but it was dark, we had food, and we were closer to their homes than ours. I didn’t want us to be the ones who proved the naturalists wrong.

“Don’t worry, the fire will keep them away,” Jake said.

“But our food won’t,” Abby said.

She was right. We had half-eaten s’mores, potato chips, and popcorn. It wasn’t a good idea to possess food when hungry animals were in the vicinity.