With the capture of Verandi Farley and several high-ranking Trossach members, the British wizarding world has finally caught a break. The rate of rogue werewolf attacks have started dropping at a steady rate and, hopefully, things will stay that way. The Ministry is starting to loosen some restrictions, like not arresting werewolves standing on the street for loitering, however there’s still an obvious power imbalance between wizardfolk and werewolves.
The Cotswolds pack are continuing to advocate for the rights of werewolves and petitioning to change the legislation that has been set in motion by the current Minister for Magic, whilst the remaining Trossachs members are trying to stay out of the spotlight and keep a low profile… for now.
Whilst the British wizarding world seems to have calmed down, the same cannot be said for over in Northern Europe where a rebellion of magical creatures has risen. The state of things has gotten so bad that the European Ministry has enacted protocols to protect those under eighteen whilst their adult witches and wizards fight to keep control of their countries.
Students from Durmstrang have been sent to Hogwarts to keep them safe and those not old enough to attend school have been sent to live with relatives or designated British Ministry officials outside of Europe for the time being.
Will the low rates of werewolf attacks in Britain continue? How long will Durmstrang students stay at Hogwarts? Will the creatures usurp the wizardfolk in Northern Europe? Only time will tell.
SEPTEMBER 2019 It's been a very long, eventful summer in the wizarding world. A baby was stolen, several high ranking Trossach members were imprisoned, and werewolf attacks have drastically dropped as a result. What will happen now school has returned?
MAY 2019 An attempt to capture the beta of the Trossachs has been launched. Were the Aurors successful in their mission? Go read more here!
Thank you for your letter. It is always nice to hear from home, even if father thinks I stubbornly 'ran away', which, as you know is not the truth. The harvest season is over, but the vineyard is keeping us quite busy. [..] I do hope that in a few years they'll let me oversee my own. [..]
Love, Vaughn."
Bull. Shit.
Vaughn Belanger was sitting on a rotten tree stump in the middle of a snowed-in forest, elbows deep into the carcass of a red deer, gutting the poor thing. The red drops running down his bare torso weren't those of haphazardly spilled red wine -- it was warm, sticky blood. The young man was as far removed from the the vineyards of France as far the general populace was from calmly accepting werewolves.
He damned the day a stray french werewolf had decided to attack him. He damned the day the owner of the vineyard told him to scram because he was sullying the prestige of his establishment, never mind his perfect French or how good of an employee he'd been for 2 years. He damned the day when he understood, that he couldn't go home. His parents, even if they would accept him, which he wasn't so sure about, didn't have the funds to buy him wolfsbane. He'd left Scotland to make a living for himself and to be able to support them, but now he was an even bigger burden than ever before.
Instead he joined a rather vicious werewolf clan, the ranks of which were filled with people harboring the same bitterness against the world. They only had their tents and their pack mates to keep the safe and sane, and Vaughn worked his ass off trying to provide for them, so they would last the winter.
So there he was, clad in blood, arms deep into the warm corpse of a deer, dreaming of red wine and the French sun.
