If Faolan had been a crier, he would have broken down there in front of Lucien, but he had never been one for tears. Besides, he was too exhausted to weep even if he could. Now that all of the anger had left him, Faolan felt almost relieved. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, though he had never realized he had been carrying one in the first place. Lucien knew, and now there was nothing to hide. He could let everything go, what would be the harm? It had been almost twenty years since he had left the farm and truly begun his life. In all that time, he had shared with no one what had happened. Would this give his family's memory some peace?

He started speaking without really thinking about it, just absently, like he was an automatic doll. [color=a36209]"I grew up on a small farm, south of Ireland, poor. In those days us Cluchies really had no prospects. Me da taught me to hunt, to fish, fix things...help around the house. Me ma taught me and me sister, Fiona, to cook...it was simple, easy."

"One night, I'd been out huntin'. I was sleepin' out there in the woods, tracking a deer, and I heard this sound like crashing waves. I thought the whole forest was comin' down on me head. I jumped up and saw that deer run passed me, straight through the trees with wild eyes. Then this...this beast, eight feet tall, glowin' eyes, claws like a bear's, came after it. It stopped when it saw me, turned on me. It took a chunk out of me shoulder,"[/color] at this, Faolan stretched his neck out instinctively, showing the scar on his trapezius muscle that wrapped around his back. [color=a36209]"But I had me knife, I got 'im in the eye. It ran, howlin' and spittin'."

"I don't remember gettin' home. I stumbled in a couple hours later, sweatin', nearly bled to death. Me ma and da patched me up, laid me down. I had a fever for a week, delirious and all. I don't remember it. Everyone was shocked when I pulled through, doctor said he was sure I'd pass on. Me ma prayed at me bedside every day and every night, said it was the Lord that saved me. But it weren't no Lord..."

"I healed up quick, regained my strength, and was back out doin' normal tasks within a fortnight. I didn't venture too far into the woods, and most didn't believe what I'd seen, thought it was the fever givin' me visions...but I knew, as soon as those teeth sunk into me, I knew it was real."

"Two weeks later, it happened."[/color] Faolan paused a moment and looked down at his bloody palms, then tried to wipe them on his pant legs, but to no avail. The red stained his skin. [color=a36209]"I shifted, for the first time. I didn't know what was happening, woke the whole damn village with my hollerin'. When I came to...well, they were dead. Me da and ma...little Fiona, couple of neighbors, the Doctor and his wife. I'd killed them all, eaten some." [/color]There was another small pause, [color=a36209] "and then I left,"[/color] he finished. 

Throughout the tale, Faolan's voice had been even and low. He was telling it as if it had all happened to someone else. Despite his seemingly detached state, the memories hurt to relive. The telling, though, that was not painful. In fact, it was liberating. For the first time, someone else knew what he had seen and done, knew the reasons for his self-induced isolation and why he was so protective of his privacy. Though he was not happy with how this had come about, he could not deny the feeling of satisfaction that came with this release.