The BLUE MOON Coven

The Origin of Sierra...

On a suspiciously Bright night thousands of years ago, a black wolf was born in a civil tribe. The tribe lived in harmony for many months until this pup was born. A mere three sunsets after her birth, The Great Wolf of the Blue Moon had risen, but this time, He was different. A pitch black cirque had masked His moon, leaving only the blue and white luminescent ring beaming from the border. It felt as though He was projecting information to this young pup; He told her to stay calm, to hide away while the great rock "worked its magic". The ebony pup made way to her nest, listening to the sounds of the other younglings snoring in the warmth of their nests. Only one thing was odd: every mother and sitter in the den was gone. Every cub's ears in the den began to ring a shrill tone, blocking out all the noise outside of their serene home. Away from the cave, every adult from the tribe had gone mad. Atop a large rock, the betas fought the deltas; the alphas stripped the omegas skin to the bone. A bloody massacre tore through the tribe, only leaving the innocent puppies untouched. These adult wolves were not innocent in their lives. They had killed, they had betrayed their friends, and they had lied. But not this pup, not the other pups; oh, no. These pups were clean, they were the wholesome successors of the now fallen tribe. Soon, the pups began to awaken from their slumber. All but the pitch-dark pup. Her Small tail stuck out, gently twitching as the Wolf in the Moon spoke to her in her dream.

"Your tribe was dirty, little one. They had turned their back on my magic and protection, taking it for granted and breaking all rules of morality and peace. They started useless wars, they lied, and they stole. I need a new vessel; a peacemaker for this ancient Coven. You shall be that wolf. You shall be named Sierra. Sierra of the Blue Moon. I will grant you with many abilities. Your ears will grow greater to hear the honesty of your tribe miles away. Your teeth and claws will grow sharper to protect the tribe from those who challenge you. Your fur will change a striking white to intimidate your challengers. I shall leave your face black, like the eclipse that symbolizes your grand rebirth, and I shall leave an ebony strike on your back to represent your striking demeanor. My final gift to you is total immortality. You shall raise this Coven for generations, and when it is your time, you will come join me in my moon. Until then, go on, little one. Take your first friends and raise them well. You shall be granted with luck to find food and water, and knowledge to care for your tribe and build shelter. Great luck to you, little Sierra, and if you need me, give three quick yelps to the moon. So long, young one."

Sierra grew along with her pack-mates, into a large, strong wolf. Her friends had grown into honest young wolves. They embraced the magic of the moon and used it to their advantage. The Coven was now a clean, wonderful place, all thanks to Sierra and The Great Wolf of the Blue Moon.