Then There Were Three



Hindley was indeed sad and shaken. He’d looked forward to their next full-moon tryst with such anticipation. And though he couldn’t say exactly what it was about the Great White Ferret that had him so entranced, he adored her to the depths of his soul. This time, however, they were not alone. She’d not only brought along a non-descript cloth doll which she clung to pathetically, but was also in the company of a mythological beast from a fifteenth-century Flemish woodcut. Still, he allowed for the portrait to be taken though he could not hide his tender feelings. There would be no more full-moons for them.

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