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The Wolf’s Breeding Lair

A tale of virgin breeding by Francis Ashe

Copyright 2012

Smashwords Edition

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Prologue


“This is the first time I’ve seen the leaves fall in such a way,” Old Gran said, stirring a pot of water over a gentle boil with her bare finger. I always wondered how she did that without burning herself. “Hmm, this is most dire news indeed.”

“What is it, Gran?”

“You’ve heard the tale I’m sure. The one about Mordan, the wolf?”

I was ashamed to admit that I had not. I excused it away by saying I fell asleep during one of the Elder’s long-winded lectures on our kingdom’s history, which got Old Gran laughing.

“He does like to ramble, that he does.” She scratched at the hair protruding from her chin. “But listening to him does have merits. No matter how droll and plodding he may be there is no better source of wisdom than Drammond’s stories.”

“I know, I know,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He’s just so...well at any rate I’ll not belabor the point. Tell me of Mordan the wolf, and tell me why there is a poor omen afoot.”

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