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Post by liralera on Mar 30, 2007 19:00:35 GMT -5
There was a scurrying in the fields past the old pumpkin patch. It was haunting time and many of the newcomers were out and about. There was one in particular, who howled at the moon with as much, if not more melancholy than the rest.
It was one, Harry the Werewolf. He was standing on a hill and as any werewolf should, was howling at the moon. But it was not because he was calling his other kind, it was a different kind of message he sent that day.
He wiped a fake tear from his eye and climbed down from the hill.
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Post by wowposter on Nov 2, 2008 0:50:03 GMT -5
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