"It's those wolves, I tell you! They're back!" Cried Olf Hardon, the old man who lived in the home across from me. Although he was skinny and frail when he jumped up from sitting and startling most of the adults. "Olf Hardon you sit down this instance!" Yelled Ms. Bustly, his caretaker. She pulled at his cloak till she had pulled him down beside her. Olf smoothed back what little hair he had on his head and applogized quietly. Ms.Bustly did have a way with people. Our leader, Joc, had glared at him harshly before contiuing. We were all ordered to meet in the Village Cabin, also known as the town hall. The parents were ordered to keep their children in the homes, for what reason I didn't really know. I'm only 16 (and a half) myself, which the age you had to be to attend the Village meeting was 18, or at least a month or two away. But my mother and father had told me this was something I had needed to hear. But I was still afraid about what Joc would say, he wasn't the sweetest apple on the tree. "Olf, may be silly and old but one thing he said is correct. The wolves are back." He looked around the campfire that sat in the middle of the Village Cabin, the only building in our village made completly of wood. "I see, as I had asked, that you kept you children home." His gaze swept over me, the way he looked made me feel like he was the Cleaniness Inspector, who inspected our home for any filth or dead animals or bugs, inspecting a cockroach. Which we weren't allowed to have filthy home. My papa had said once because it attracted the wolves, which was the only thing I ever heard of. Wolves, wolves, wolves, wolves, wolves, and did I mention wolves? His gaze shifted to my parents, my papa spoke up first, "She doesn't know, she's 16. But very mature, It think it's time, Master Joc." My father had a spark of fear in his eyes, something I only noticed. Joc looked at me wide eyed, and I knew why. I looked alot younger than I was when I was wearing my red cloak that my grandmother had made me. The only time anyone could tell that I wasn't a kid was when I had it off. My mother always said I didn't look like any of our relitives, I had Bleach Blonde hair and tan skin with freckles. "Beautiful beauty." My grandmother would call me. "Oh...Well, yes. Maybe your right about that." His eyes still glued to me. Actually everyone was looking at me, and when my father had cleared his throat they turned their heads and looked away akwardly. I pulled down my hood, tired of the lazer stares. "Back to subject, the wolves are getting very out of hand. The Village has been arguing about what we should do. How say you council?" Everyone's head had turned toward the council, a group of the Joc's most inteligent people. A woman, who's name was so strange you wanted to forget it spoke up, "I say we leave the Village. Settle somewhere else. A better place." Then she sat back down, the villagers around me whispered. Then a man got up, "I say we go and kill those murderers! Done killed my youngest!" He yelled. He got some cheers from the men, not including my dad who looked very solemn. "I believe that their are men and women in this village that are wolves themselfs! One could be in this room right now." Said Ms.Bustily suspiciously. Everyone looked around at each other. Then erruptingly, Olf Hardon jumped and said, "I say we kill them all!" Breaking the silence, a second later all the men and women jumped up and cheered as Joc struggled to say, "We've reached our decision!" My mother had ushured me out of the jumping and dancing villagers. And on our way out of the noise and movement we heard a howl in the distance that made everyone shut up.