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They circled her like eagles circling thier prey, chanting and writhing in the darkness. The ashes burnt in the centre and the small child wept, yet they still circled her, condemning her like she was the culprit. The moon appeared as if from nowhere and the small child begged them to stop until nomore she could take it. Her darkened eyes looked up at them filled with hatred and anger in them no mercy or childhood dreams could be seen, she had been turned. Her bedraggled locks of hair no longer glimmered in the moonlight. She turned and scowled at the elders 'i hate you, what did you do' her voice echoed on the cool nights breeze and there was no answer, silence.
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The shadows of the henge hung around her and as she regained conciousness she became weary of where she was, where her father was. She no longer felt the pity in her soul, instead she craved revenge. She stood up and smiled to herself, the blood trickled down her arm in a small red river, and instead of cradling her arm she looked at it curiously and with awe. She tried to deny what had happened, her mother she though would never forgive her. Thoughts flooded her mind reminding her of what was before, she must purify her soul and return once more to her mothers side. The child walked towards a small flame left from the previous night and lit her torch by it, for she knew this would be her only hope of returning to the light....
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