Luna stared at the still face of her mother hung up on the wall.

Her mother looked down at her, proud above the dim fireplace and the urn atop it, as Luna spun her sword in her hands. Luna's claws traced over the delicate patterns etched into the grip. Her mother's name– Artemis– shone at her between twinkling stars and crescent moons.

Soft voices reached her, from somewhere beside her. Behind the bedroom door, her father shushed her younger sister, whispering soothing words into her ear.

He told her that Luna would never want to hurt her, but her panicked breaths didn't slow.

Luna looked down at her claws, and saw that full moon night again.

She watched her trembling hands turn into viciously clawed paws in front of her, felt her bones and muscles reshape themselves with sickening cracks and a flash of moonlight– she heard screams, from her father and from her sister, the memory so clear and yet so fogged– and she awoke in the storm cellar at the break of dawn, with loose chains meant for something bigger wrapped around her wrists.

Her sister's arm still hadn't healed from that night.

It hadn't been that long since, yet it had been long enough that soon, the light of the moon would again unleash the beast inside of her. Soon. Only a few more days. She felt it, somewhere in her chest, scratching at the walls in anticipation.

She looked back to her mother. Her father said the curse came from her. Every full moon, she'd transform into a beautiful white wolf, with long fur that shined in the moonlight. She died before Luna could learn from her. She died before she could teach Luna how to tame the beast. She died before Luna could be like her.

She had to keep her family safe. Her family, her home… She was a guardian, a silver warrior like her mother, who donned her armor and blade to protect. How could she protect with that beast inside of her? How could she be a guardian when she was the monster?

If she cannot stop the beast inside…

The note to her father already sat on her nightstand. Her bag already held everything she'd need. Her cloak would keep her warm as she entered the snowy night.

She would ensure her family would be safe.

Luna stood up. Her grip on her mother's sword tightened. She stepped forward and touched her forehead to the fireplace's hem.

"I leave my name with you, mother," she whispered. "I know it will be safe with you."

She sheathed her blade, turned to the door, and stepped out into the cold. The moon watched her, from its place high in the sky, beyond the tallest of trees, tallest of mountains.

With a trembling sigh and shaking hands, she closed the door and vanished into the night.