Sabina had just poured herself a mug of strong coffee and began to survey the mess that surrounded her.

She hadn't cleaned up well before going to bed last night, and the place was in a horrible state. It had been difficult to close down lately, and the Inn seemed to be staying open later and later every day, until she was getting very little sleep before she was forced to get up and open again in the late morning. People were definitely drinking much more since the blood sickness had taken hold of the village. Alcohol is certainly one way of forgetting, she supposed. 

"This is going to be a long morning," she said to herself, and took a sip of hot coffee.

She nearly spilled it as she heard a loud pounding on the door, interrupting her sacred morning ritual, her precious alone time. Putting her mug down, she walked over angrily, grabbing the large wooden stick she kept behind close for when rowdy patrons made a nuisence of themselves. It had been getting quite a lot of use recently. 

She opened the door slowly.

"Sabina!"

Beatrice lept at her, pushing through the small crack in the door and grabbing her in a strong embrace. She dropped the stick and returned the hug before pulling her away to observe her friend more clearly. 

"Beatrice! You look... amazing."

"I feel better than I have in years, though I'm starved half to death! I've been healed completely by this exceptionally talented devil!" she pointed behind her to Lay, who was smiling and waiting politely. He bowed slightly. 

"Well, devil or no, I'm so very happy to see you. Come in, both of you. You must be very hungry!"

Beatrice and Lay walked toward the bar and sat on two stools closest to the kitchen. Pushing some dirty cups to the side, Sabina began pouring them fresh coffee. 

"Sabina came to me often while I was ill. Though the food she brought me smelled wonderful, I couldn't find the strength to eat any of it."

"You would do the same for me, I'm sure," she chuckled, and made her way into the kitchen to prepare their much anticipated breakfast. 

Sabina had cooked up a masterpiece. Perhaps not the most gourmet selection of foods, but the sheer variety of delicious flavors made that of little importance.

She sat and watched her two visitors eat while chewing on a piece of crisp bacon. 

"How did the two of you come to meet each other, if may I ask? It's not every day that one meets a devil in the flesh."

Exhasperated, Lay sighed and slammed his fork down on the bar, surprising the women. 

"Beatrice asked me my name, but has thus far refused to use it. To be clear, I'm not a devil or a magician or anything like that. Just to clarify, I am, and have always been, a werewolf." 

Beatrice began uncerimoniously choking on her food.

Without breaking eye contact with Lay, Sabina expertly reached behind her, grabbed a bottle of liquor and began pouring a generous amount into her third cup of coffee.

"I've come here to deliver a letter, although I haven't the slightest idea of how to find its recipient. Also, my brothers and I are very interested in where this blood sickness you're experiencing comes from. I don't suppose you know much about it really, but it's important that we learn as much as possible. Do either of you happen to know of someone that could help me?"

Beatrice wiped the food that had been coming out of her nostrils, and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. 

“What sort of werewolf has the power to heal by touch? I've never heard of that sort of werewolf, and my sister has dealings with them, so I do know a thing or two.”

He perked up.

"Who is your sister?"

"Her name is Esme, and she's working for a wealthy pack a little ways north of here."

"Not anymore she isn't." 

He pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket. 

"This would be for you, I'm guessing."

She ripped the envelope open hastily and began reading. When she'd finished, she crumpled the paper and looked up at Lay.

“I wish to see my sister, do you think that could you take me to her? But in regards to your questions about the blood sickness, we should speak to my mother first. I'm not sure how much she can help you, but I guarantee she knows more about the blood sickness than anyone else in the village. She doesn't know how to cure it, unfortunately, but I suspect she may know something of its origin."

"Your mother is a physician?"

“As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’m remiss in saying that she’s the best in the village, despite what many of the men have to say about it. It's strange how their complaints always seem to quiet down after they've