Scar and the Wolf

IntroductionThe world is dark and quiet, waiting for something to be born. Something not quite alive, but not quite dead. A low mist crawls along the alleys of the town. A crow screeches down the dawn. Weak light seeps slowly into a cellar, where a patch of soil lies before a granite stone. Grass and mushrooms grow in tufts and clusters. The moist dirt is clotted, clumped, and freshly dug.A blade of grass twitches, stills. It shivers again. Worms pause. Beetles wait. Suddenly, the grass across the dirt plot commences dancing. A small mound swells and falls. The world holds its breath. It waits. It waits. It waits...Soil sprays upward. First dirt, then pebbles, then clods shower up and out as a fist punches from below into the rank air of morning. The fist flexes. It extends its fingers. Another fist bursts to the surface followed by forearms, elbows, shoulders, torso, and a face - an undead face moaning, "Brains... Brains... BRAINS!"