Joseph eyes Henshaw closely before turning and walking out the door. He is walking fast so as to not let anyone catch up to him to see the tears of anger and sadness in his eyes.

Robert watches as Grammy is lead to the gallows. He glares at her as she walks past, muttering "damn wolf" under his breath. He stands front and center at the gallows. He convicted her, he will see this through. His eyes narrow even more as the noose is tied.

"See you in...."

The bottom drops out, and all color falls from Mr. Henshaw's face. His eyes grow in pure terror as he sees the ashes fall to the ground, and as he hears the Duchesses comment.

"NOOOOOOOO....no no no no no no. Not possible!"

He traces the brand on his hand in shock. Disbelief has set in.

"She didn't...she didn't attempt to defend herself. She has to be a wolf...HAS to be. It all made sense."

He tries to gain composure as tears begin to flow from his eyes. He turns to the other villagers.

"Yes, I was wrong d*****. I....I was wrong. But as I stated, I had to follow the only logic that there was. I made a stand as a man should. Blame me. So be it! Murder me with her...so be it. However, to those of you who failed to vote...I had better NOT dare hear you blame me or decry my actions. You are cowards...not willing to take a stand!"

He quickly turns and walks away, alone. Muffling his cries and continuing to trace the brand that marks his hand.

Brother Morris watches Mr. Henshaw walk away. "I stand by my vote," he says quietly, then turns and begins walking to the stable.

Jolie shakes her head "I tried to change your minds, but I failed, no one ever listens to me. I guess thats what happens when your a young girl, now we may have doomed us all." Jolie then grabs herself a drink and chugs it down and continues to pour herself some more.

Rodrick looks at his daughter with sorrowful pride in his eyes, and puts a warm hand on her shoulder. "Take courage, dear," he says, " there was a real seer and a false one, and it's possible that we still have a guiding help."

He hangs his head. "And we still have our wits. I did listen to you, but I still regret having been part of the charge against the dear old lady. I just ... "

His voice trails off. "What will become of us? What can we do?" He takes the open jug and pours a drink for himself. "What can we do???"

"The seer....dead. This is bad. We can only hope she was the false seer...else, we are doomed, like as not."

"If she was the true seer, we at least have her last vote. If she was the false seer, then we likely condem another innocent to death by following her advice. A difficult choice, to be sure."

"We're not doomed! What does it matter if she was the true seer? We would've never found so any accusations she would have made would've been held with the same weight as anyone elses'. No we are not doomed, however we will be if people continued to neglect to vote. I helped condemn an innocent woman tonight, but I can sleep soundly because I did my duty." Marcus finishes with a shaky voice, sighs and leaves.

A confused Freddie turns to Joseph. "Joseph? I thought she was a bad person. She was being mean, and you voted for her so I did too. I don't want people to die!" He turns and runs full out back to his home and his teddie.

Ritzy stares at Grammy's dead body.
"I should have tried to help her. How could I know she was a seer, though. God, I'll miss her."

Molly sets her half full drink down and observes the hanging. When the ashes fall, she gets tears in her eyes, forces them back, takes a deep breath. Then she mutters "Oh hell, I haven't cried in a few hours..." and weeps openly. Once the worst is over, she collects herself and returns to her ale, finishes it, and crys some more.

A wind seems to visit each townsperson, whispering in their ears

Another one bites the dust. You can't play this game for *hit, morons. Stupid scapegoating slaughters sheep.

Stupid scapegoating slaughters sheep...

Stupid scapegoating slaughters sheep...

Stupid scapegoating slaughters sheep...

THINK HARDER!

To the wolves, who know who they are...

One by one, you think you'll take them.
One by one, they will condemn

One by one, you think you'll win...but
One by one, they'll see the clues...then

One by one, you'll get YOUR noose.

ooc: Ok, not a perfect rhyming poem, but I like it.

[ooc: just so you guys know, if I don't hear from the wolves' latest victim in 1 hour, the next day's thread probably won't go up until sunday. I'm going to be out of town this weekend.]

Martin collects the ash into a small box. To noone in particular "Easier to bury this way... I'm Sure you're in a better place."

Martin heads back to his shop, and sharpens his axe. He spends the remainder of the afternoon gathering new wood for more caskets and preparing the Caskets in the root cellar for transportation to the Church's graveyard.

In a dark mood, Martin spends his dinner time alone. And with his chores done for the day, heads out to the porch to rest in his rocking chair and remember his lost friends and relatives. As people return to thier homes, he waves as they pass. Wondering if one of them could be a Lycanthrope.

As he rests, a Familiar "Mew" comes from behind him... Tom the Cat jumps up onto Martin's lap and curls up. As he pets Tom, Martin whispers "I know you miss her... but we'll be ok."