Sabin was born in the wooded
foothills of the French Alps about 10 miles East of the small town of
Sabin’s father, Kurt, was an interesting guy, but when angered had a horrible temper. He was tall, moderately stocky, had light brown hair and gray eyes. Originally from central France, he was an exceptional ranger in his day- acting as a guide and protector to people traveling through rural areas, tracking down and collecting bounties on both men and beasts. He’d traveled far and seen his share of fights. He was world-wise and a very down-to-earth man. He was practical, and had a very well developed picture of the Way Things Are. He wasn’t much for pretenses or sugarcoating reality, and generally very blunt, though not necessarily short-winded. Eventually, though, he “found the right woman” to make him settle down (read: Kurt traveled a lot. Eventually in his travels he got a woman pregnant who realized thus while he was around.) Along his travels, he had learned to speak different languages and how to read and write- which he later passed onto Sabin, considering them useful skills regardless of trade. He was very fond of Sabin, especially since Sabin was his only son (or child for that matter) and did his best to instruct him in the things that he knew and spend time with him, though Sabin sometimes ran across his temper.
Sabin’s mother, Thelia Baignard, was originally from the nearby town and had never traveled very far from it. She was a thin, witty and pretty young woman, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, who worked with her parents and sisters as an herbalist / apothecary, doing general chores and learning of the trade. She knew various medicinal and ‘protection’ uses for the herbs that they sold, and developed a strong sense of superstition from living around people coming to her parents for wards against witchcraft. (Thelia probably had a small –potential- for magic, though this was certainly never developed. If nothing else, though, many of her remedies were more effective than the normal, though this connection was never really drawn.) She fell in love with Kurt’s strong force of personality and worldliness. When they married, they moved out of town so that Kurt could be near the woods he was comfortable in, though Thelia insisted on staying near St. Laurent (and had a good say in it being Kurt had gotten her pregnant.) He adapted his lifestyle to being a woodsman – doing local trapping, hunting, and lumbering; Thelia also worked a garden by the house where they grew simple vegetables and herbs. Kurt had saved up a fairly large sum of money from his earlier days, and thus was ready to settle down more- using his funds to build a nice (for the area) cabin and setting themselves up to live a comfortable life. (Though honestly, despite the money he had saved was enough to settle down, he regretted having to stop traveling before he was really ready to.) Thelia also occasionally went into the woods to find more exotic plants that she could use and sell. They also kept a few livestock (goats, chickens, and a pair of horses for transportation.). They would make periodic trips to town to sell wares, firewood, furs, and herbal medicines. Sabin grew up their only child.
Thelia and Kurt, for the first couple years of their marriage, were a happy, romantic couple, though as the years dragged on, Thelia’s small-town upbringing contrasted with his bluntness and restlessness. He didn’t resent the marriage per se, but found himself arguing more and more frequently with his wife about how to raise their son. Kurt wanted to educate him in the ways of the world, let the boy experience some other aspects of life than what he was confined to now. Thelia, on the other hand, was very over-protective, wanting to hold on to him, especially when things started to break down in her relationship with Kurt. They both had wanted more children, but alas, apparently it was not meant to be... (probably due to medical complications with childbearing/miscarriage in a country setting...)
Sabin was born on August 29, 1854 with blue-gray eyes and light brown hair. As a young child, Sabin was irrepressibly curious, and somewhat... different. He was fortunately quite healthy (except a few mishaps with poisonous forest flora.) From a young age, Sabin would follow his father into the forest while he was working. His father made sure to tell him what things not to touch and what could and couldn’t be eaten- not that that discouraged his curiosity. After a few mishaps with things like poison ivy, Sabin would generally figure out the things his father was trying to tell him the hard way. While he was out in the woods while his father was busy working, he loved to go meet and talk to “imaginary friends.” To young Sabin, the woods were alive with whispering voices and glimpses of things in his peripheral vision that gave him wonderful ideas and sparked his imagination. For a while, his father didn’t think twice about the young kid playing games like hide and seek with himself. In the evenings, his father would often tell him and his mother stories he had heard (or been part of) from his travels. Sabin was enthralled with them, especially some of the more fantastic legends and myths that involved fabulous beasts and strange magicks. Every night he pleaded his father to tell him a bedtime story more wondrous that the previous. And sometimes as he dreamt, the stories his father told him were elaborated upon and the same voices from the forest whispered in a spidery voice things that he couldn’t quite hear. As he grew older (when he was about 7), his mother looked at Sabin’s interest in disapproval; she grew up being very superstitious. What his father viewed as a boy’s harmless curiosity in make-believe things she saw as dangerous. She believed in evil spirits in the woods, and when she brought it up to her husband and heard of Sabin’s imaginary friends, she got into a big argument with his father to try to keep the boy out of the woods. While she lost the argument, she started telling her own stories at nights. Instead of stories of epic heroism like his father, she tried to frighten him with darker legends about things like creatures that ate small boys who wandered too far. Sabin listened to these stories just as attentively as his father’s, but they did anything but frighten him. Instead, it sparked a dangerous curiosity about the “creatures in the woods.” Sabin knew that there were lots of things that lived in the woods, but he wasn’t scared of them (and in fact frequently brought some home with him – much to his mother’s dismay), why should he be scared of those? So, when he heard of other things that might live out there, magical, mysterious things- he wanted to see them…
As he got a little older, he still accompanied his father out to the woods, but the actual voices died down as he grew. By the time he was around 10, he wondered if he had ever really heard them at all. But, whenever he went out, his mind still filled with ideas and he felt invigorated. And at night, the dreams still came. On some nights, they were incredibly vivid and his mind filled with whispering voices and stories and magic.
His father began teaching him how to hunt, taking him more with him as he checked traps that he set and instructing him on how to track, shoot, and clean game. This was a lot more interesting than the herbalism his mother attempted to teach him, especially to an 11-year-old boy. But still, things seemed lacking. He still begged stories from his father, who after a while began to run out of new things to tell him. Sabin’s dad also taught him how to read and write (in other languages as well) and used the stories as a way to keep Sabin’s attention- having him read stories that his father wrote down, and then have him write down the stories his father would tell him later. (This worked very well, and Sabin learned the languages, and kept on the habit of writing down his father’s (and mother’s) stories.) Sabin also liked to draw pictures to go along with the stories even before he could read or write - which further irked his mother when he would fill stacks of papers with pictures of various monsters and mythical creatures.
Sabin also loved to go out exploring the woods around his house as often as he was allowed, though his father liked to keep a relatively short leash on him – knowing his foolhardiness... He enjoyed exploring caves in the mountains, and once got stuck for several hours until his father came out searching for him- not that that stopped him from going right back as soon as he was allowed to go out again. But he did learn how to slip through narrow areas better.
His parents also took him into the town occasionally (especially to sell herbs and furs), and he would stay with his grandparents and his aunts (on his mother’s side of course.) Sabin despised his mother’s relatives, which grew more acute the more time he spent with them. They did NOT like his father, and criticized his mother for marrying him- any time she had a complaint about him, they would retaliate with a ‘told you so’ and throw back in her face how much better life was in the town and not “off in the horrid woods, living like a wild woman.” (They also had their suspicions as to just –why- Kurt married Thelia, figuring out the math on Sabin’s birthday vs. the wedding date.) They were also at least as superstitious as his mother, and refused to let him talk about the stories his father would tell, or his growing obsession in monsters – and every time his mother spent time with them, she came home feeling more resentful and was more strict with him when it came to his interests.
But, good things did come of visiting town. Sabin would go out and meet other kids around his age, of which there were very few where he actually lived. There were about 4 main boys who were about his age that he hung around the most. That was Chase Bourel, son of the innkeeper, who was the closest to his age: less than a year older than him, and the nicest of them. There were 2 boys who were sons of farmers, Aaron and Leonce, and one, Bernard, the oldest, and about 3 years older than Sabin, who was the son of the butcher and was the leader of the group. He would play make-believe with other boys (acting out stories with them- Sabin loved playing the monsters in them) and got along moderately well with them, but they never really did hold quite the same degree of fascination in the things he was interested in. Though, they did share stories, and he would encourage them to try to find out more between his visits, as his parents did know a lot of stories, they only knew so much and he wanted to learn more. Sabin never quite realized the degree to which they frequently made him the brunt of their jokes, especially the butcher’s son. For one he was about 2 years younger than most of them, and his obsession and gullibility (and being far too trusting of people in general) made him an easy target to be picked on. Things such as snipe hunts (or telling him of a “monster” out in the woods at a specific area) or locking him inside an abandoned house- telling him it was haunted- were common themes of their jokes.) He rarely figured out that they were laughing at him and not with him. Chase, being the son of the inn/barkeeper also once snuck a few bottles of alcohol from his father’s tavern- and Sabin experienced getting drunk and hung-over for his first time with them (an overall unpleasant experience.)
He did keep ties with them over the years, though most of them wound up following in their parents footsteps and taking rather mundane jobs and thought Sabin rather odd for never ‘growing up’ or getting a job, courting, etc. Most of them matured out of the jokes they played on him- though he remained the butt of their jokes (usually behind his back) and would be tricked into doing things for them – Sabin always regarded them as good friends, though. Sabin did maintain a lasting female friend, Renee Le Sueur, whom he met when he was pretty young and just about always made a point of visiting when he was in town from when he was a child until about the time he left. She was very pretty in a quaint country way, with honey-blonde hair and light brown eyes. They had always been pretty casual friends, though since the friendship was so lasting, as time went by it was generally expected by most of the other boys and adults that at one point in time they would probably marry, and they both eventually expected it to happen at some point and so did not ever actively seek out other partners. She would stick up for him to the other boys (she saw through their tricks pretty easily when Sabin didn’t) and tried to get them to stop (which, since she was about 2 years younger than Sabin – usually just ended up looking cute and making them laugh more.) When they were young, she would be a tagalong to their exploits – Sabin teased for his little “girlfriend.”
Rarely, possibly once every year or half year (more frequently as he got older) they would travel to the larger cities of Grenoble or Lyon to sell their wares in the big market- which they were usually able to make a large enough profit to justify the trip and keep themselves faring well until the next trip. (Also, when Sabin got old enough to help trap and hunt, he would participate.) Sabin was allowed to keep some of the money from his profits, and saved up just about every penny for books- the ONLY source he was able to find on stories once his parents ran dry. Also, he would go to the libraries in these cities whenever possible, even though his parents were very reluctant to let him go (namely because they were BIG cities and his parents had things to do while they were there other than watch him) and so he really was only able to go for longer times after he was older. And even then, they never stayed long enough for him to get an in-depth read, let alone borrow books. Though, despite all the reading that he did, and as much as he loved it, what he really wanted was to live the stories- to see the creatures described, to experience great events, and moreover get away from his mundane life.
One morning after a particularly interesting dream, when he was 13, he wasn’t thinking and told his parents. His father didn’t really care- a dream’s a dream. But his mother was furious both at Sabin and his father for ignoring “signs of the evil spirits.” She raved about it all day, and Sabin was furious at himself. From then on he knew to not tell his parents anything that he would do.
For some reason, after that day, it was weeks and weeks before he had another dream. Sabin was frustrated and confused- he didn’t care what his mother said. He didn’t want to pick roots all his life- he wanted to be like the people in his father’s stories, to see fabulous monsters and… get that heady feeling he couldn’t explain like he occasionally did while in the forest. As the weeks drug by, he became more frustrated. One night, he left his room and slipped out into the woods to see what they were like while he was alone at night- away from his parents. As he walked down the familiar trails he heard the whispering again- the whispering he hadn’t heard awake since he was a child. He understood now that his mother had put of things around his room that kept the dreams away. And if he took them down, he could hear more things in his dreams. He returned to his room, and saw the strange roots hanging by the doors and windows. He took them down, threw them out, and fell asleep. (These probably worked in the first place due to his mother’s latent magic.) His dreams that night were more vivid than they had ever been before- in them he could touch the very shadows themselves and move them, command the winds, move without a sound…. This time he knew to keep quiet about the dreams. The next night, he sat awake with excitement in bed- wanting to fall asleep and dream more so badly, but too excited to do so. He looked around his room at the play of shadows from the candle he had relit after not being able to sleep. Remembering his dream, he playfully ‘pretended’ to grab a hold of the shadow at the base. He nearly wet himself when he actually succeeded. Terrified, he let go immediately and cowered in his bed trying to rationalize. Eventually he drifted off to sleep, the dreams returning. Over the next few night, his confidence grew up enough for him to try again. When it worked again, he was enthralled and ecstatic. Not too long afterwards, though- his mother noticed the herbs were missing from his room and confronted him. He tried to make lame excuses, but she wouldn’t hear them. By that night, they were back again at the door and windows. Annoyed, Sabin took them down again after his parents were asleep and went back to the shadows. But, as he concentrated on them, trying to make them move they swirled suddenly to form a horrifying toothy maw, then dissipated back to normal. Terrified, he unconsciously screamed, waking his parents. His mother rushed in, and saw the herbs were gone. She assumed that the “demons were plaguing his sleep” and scolded him like never before. She replaced them and threatened with Very Bad Things if he took them down again. When he finally got to sleep, he had no dreams once again. But one surprise wasn’t enough to stop him. She had tried to stop him before and if he had listened then he would never have learned to do such wonderfully interesting things. He found ways around his mother’s herbs (i.e. taking them down temporarily, or replacing them with herbs that looked the same…) But when those methods became too risky, he would sneak out for a time- the voices whispered to him ways that he could leave the house without making a sound.
As Sabin got older, he would take just about any opportunity to try to experiment more with the magic that he was learning. But, he had to be very careful, and the opportunities were much fewer and far between than he would have liked, especially with how close an eye his mother liked to keep on him. He took several gambles, wandering off in the woods alone during the day when he was supposed to be helping his father, and nearly got caught more than once, but to him it was worth it. It was real magic: the things he had been hearing stories of since he was little, things that he had always wished to see- it was his and it felt right. It was that something wonderful in his life. It gave him a justification that there was more out there than what most people saw, and kept him further separated from the more mundane populace.
Aside from practicing magic and hunting/trapping with his father, Sabin also loved to go out riding on one of the family horses. It helped him get away from everything- a chance to clear his mind of any problems and daydream; imagine that he wasn’t just riding through the mountains around his house, but that he was someone from one of the stories on a great adventure.
Also, he couldn’t stay away from the caves. There was a fairly large network of them around his house, and he made it his informal goal to try to map them and explore them as much as possible. In the back of his mind, he was hoping that there would be something special hidden away deep inside one of them- many stories centered around things like that. And even besides that, they were his secret place- a place where he could be alone, could practice magic if he wanted to, and even if perfectly natural, normal caves, that in itself was something different and interesting. Some parts of the caves had beautiful crystalline structures, others had amazing stalactites and stalagmites, some underground rivers, cave animals, etc. He got lost a lot at first, had several mishaps when his light went out, or his lantern was dropped into some standing water, and had to be ‘rescued’ by his father (who thank goodness knew that if Sabin wasn’t home for dinner than he was probably stuck in a cave somewhere- and could track him down with the assistance of the family dog, whom Sabin named “Loup Garou”; his mother/father just called it “Loup”.) Once, he broke an arm during a fall in a particularly dangerous area of the caves, and even after that, he tried to go back in before it had healed.
He also made more frequent visits to see Renee. She was the person he most felt like he could talk to, and he frequently did for hours on end. She loved to hear him talk, because whenever he did, he was so animated and excited. He would tell her stories, things that he heard or learned about, and sometimes even hinting about in 3rd person some of the things that had happened to him... She never laughed at him, and their connection grew stronger. He was happy around her- he didn’t have to guard his words as much around her. They would go for walks, Sabin talking animatedly around her, walking backwards in front of her, gesticulating and miming out exciting scenes. Sometimes also she would accompany him on rides, and once or twice he tried to show her some of his favorite spots in the caves (which didn’t work out quite as well as he hoped- she did not enjoy picking her way through the dirty cave in a dress.) But the second time, he was able to get her into the crystalline room- and she was awed.
Sabin began to very slowly amass a small collection of books and notes he had written himself concerning all sorts of stories. His collection spanned everything from fairy tales, to classical myths, legends, epic tales, and, his most favorite, “accounts” of encounters with supernatural creatures and informational books thereon. All in all, he might have had around 20 or so books, quite a collection for that time, and dozens and dozens of sheets of paper that he had written down stories that he had heard from others, and sketches he had drawn. (Books he had included such as The Book of Werewolves, Alice in Wonderland, several of Jules Verne’s writings, books on Mythologies of the world, Arthurian Myths, Celtic myths, a German book written seriously about the dark creatures “out there”, Grimm’s fairy tales, some of the great Epics, so on and so forth.)
Sabin also treasured a tarot deck that he had acquired one day when a gypsy troupe was passing through a nearby area. Sabin had heard the rumors of them and snuck out despite his parents warnings about them (They had heard as well- the town was very superstitious and telling all sorts of horrid stories.) He found the camp and was enthralled, speaking with them, listening to as many stories as possible. He even went to have his fortune told, where the old woman looked at him strangely and spoke to him about a gift that he had – Sabin could hardly contain his excitement, knowing what she spoke of. She also warned him to be wary- seeing possibility of very bad things in his future, but as always Sabin heard the good and passed off the bad. While there, Sabin was admittedly robbed of the money he had on him, though this did not really trouble him that much- he wasn’t carrying that much and he was more excited with the experience. Additively, he purchased a tarot deck from the old woman, but made sure to conceal it from his parents –usually carrying it with him.
Sabin managed to conceal his actual magical activities for the most part, despite occasional warnings from his mother and the “concerned parent” approach from his father that his mother forced him to do. Occasionally, like before, things seemed to get out of hand, but Sabin’s thirst for the mysterious overshadowed his common sense. Then, one early July when he was 18, a dream began one night that repeated every night with more clarity each time. There was a way that he could actually see a creature like from the stories- he thought he knew how he could do it- the dreams showed him clearly… He had been obsessed with monsters and mythical creatures ever since he first heard stories of them from his father- there was no way he would pass up the opportunity to actually see one! After several nights, he couldn’t stand the excitement any more and snuck out- he walked for a long time deep into the woods guided by his subconscious. Then, when he knew he should stop he did and let his mind wander into the memory of the dream. Concentrating, on the memory, and hoping so much for it to work, he followed the directions. When he had completed them, he opened his eyes expectantly… to nothing. Before the disappointment could fully hit him, he passed out as it felt like all of the strength was pulled forcefully, and painfully from his body.
Unbeknownst to him, it was over a day before he woke up. When he finally opened his eyes, it was “still” dark out. His mind was fuzzy and he vaguely remembered trying to summon the creature from stories (but not the method of doing so.) As he stumbled back homewards, he assumed that he must have screwed it up somehow and fallen asleep. As he approached the house, he noticed in confusion that the lights were on and his mother was standing out on the front porch looking very concerned and pacing back and forth. He knew that she must have noticed that he left (and would probably be very mad when he came back) but there was no reason to wait just to have the scolding later. He trudged up to the house, but as his mother turned to see him, she screamed in horror- not anger. Sabin panicked in confusion- she picked up the closest heavy object and started trying to hit him, screaming at him to stay back, to stay out. No matter what he said she didn’t hear over her panic, and Sabin was overwhelmed with panic himself. All of a sudden, something in him snapped and he blacked out.
When he came to his senses, he was standing inside his house, with the bloody corpse of his mother at his feet. Stunned, terrified, and shaking, Sabin’s gaze wandered down to his hands- covered in blood, and clawed. Sabin screamed, staggered back away to the corner, where a hanging mirror caught his attention. A new wave or shock washed over him as he noticed his features: aside from his clawed hands, his hair had changed from brown to pure shock-white, his mouth was full of wickedly sharp teeth, his eyes were a solid, smoldering red, and his ears had elongated. After a few minutes, which seemed to drag by like hours, as he gradually forced himself to calm down a little bit, the monstrous features reverted, leaving him with just the white hair and slightly longer canines. Crying, he began to approach his mother, when his father burst through the door. Quickly accessing the situation, he turned in fury to Sabin. Sabin immediately panicked and ran… knowing his father was pursuing him, mortified by what he had done, and desperate to know what had happened.
For about 2 or 3 months after the incident, Sabin retreated from civilization (after about a day of attempting to travel just to another city immediately after the incident) scared of what happened, and constantly on the brink of losing control. It was a grueling couple of months, where he lived off what he could catch and scavenge, and it was spent almost entirely in a haze. But, as time went by, Sabin began building up a sort of mental barrier to keep himself separate from It and started getting some semblance of control. He then reevaluated his position, realizing that retreating from society would make things worse- he didn’t know what had happened to him, but the things that he did out alone in the woods frightened him. Living like this would give it power, not the other way around. He began collecting some furs, he traveled to a town, sold them for money, and bought new clothes and a journal. The journal gave him a way to put his thoughts down in writing and gave him direction that he had been lacking. It was a catharsis and gave him a concise book that he could record any useful information that he gathered. He regained a little of his self-esteem back, and set out to find information – to discover what it was that possessed him... and more importantly what he could do to keep himself. His fascination with monsters, from his childhood before the event, lived on and provided him with the nugget of reason that he needed to keep going. It gave him another slant on his condition- a bright side despite the devastation that it had caused. In a way, it was what he had always wanted and more- he was the monster that he had always dreamed of merely seeing... It kept him alive where many weaker men may have ended their lives. Both scared of it and curious as to its identity- his childhood fascination with monsters remained and he began searching everywhere for hints that could help him.
He began traveling over much of France, constantly fighting a mental battle between himself and the creature that had possessed him, occasionally wandering into Germany and Switzerland in a general northwards direction (after a month or three of virtual isolation when he learned how to essentially keep up a mental barrier to keep it from seizing control as easily and frequently.) He posed as a traveling academic collecting local stories and fables “for a collection of works and inspiration.” This was backed by his knowledge of a couple languages and ability to write. (Of course, in reality he was searching for information about what it was, as well as anything else interesting he might hear.) As he went, he kept his journal detailing his journey, problems, and any information that he learned. All the while, he tried to maintain a careful balance of involvement with civilization. He didn’t want to cut himself off altogether and lose his humanity, but he couldn’t rejoin normal society. For quite some time he was very anxious when in normal society. Of course, he did have a few mistakes… At times, in rage or fear, or when he accidentally let his mental barrier slip, it would again seize control of him. And frequently when this happened, he killed. These events wracked him with guilt, and kept him from making close ties with people, or staying in one location too long.
Some of the more “notable” events included Sabin’s first exposure to gambling, and his “first time.” Sabin had just been getting used to his lifestyle, actually made a decent amount of money through a selling couple of wolf pelts (there was a sizeable bounty on wolf pelts at the time.) He went to celebrate in a tavern, only to be targeted by a few more experienced poker players – they saw how gullible and inexperienced he was (and also that he was wearing –new- clothing –not especially nice, but new.) They showed him how to play, playing a couple friendly games and getting his confidence up- letting him win. When they started playing for money, they let him win a few rounds, then started milking him for all he was worth. He really began to worry- it was the winter months now and he really couldn’t stay out in the woods anymore for long at all- it had taken him a long time to make that money- and he lost control. It was a –huge- mess- the gamblers losing their lives, and Sabin barely managing to elude capture. Fortunately, the town was not all that large – though there would probably still be rumors of a “werewolf with white hair” circulating.
His other very notable mistake came several months into his journeys in a city several miles out of Paris. He had been at a tavern, drowning his sorrows in his ale when a prostitute propositioned him. He normally wouldn’t have thought twice, but he was incredibly down, and she offered to take his mind off of his problems. The alcohol had loosened his judgment, and he was looking for escape. Unfortunately for him and the poor woman, Annette, that was the last thing that this encounter brought him. Sabin didn’t anticipate it, but in the heat of the moment, in that stage where all reasoning is lost – his mental barrier came crashing down. The anju seized control only to be met with emotions and feelings so strong that it terrified it- it did the only thing it knew to do- lashed out at the source of this alien and (from what it felt) terrifying experience. When Sabin regained control over her body- he was an absolute wreck- she wasn’t involved with his problems, he knew her name, and she had just been trying to help... The moment that was supposed to be wonderful was taken from him, corrupted. He was very badly scarred- afraid that any time he might ever have similar temptations that the same thing would result. This was one of his most scarring and personally traumatic slips (next to his mother, of course.) He was wracked with guilt and very near suicidal. It took him a very long time to collect his wits about him enough to flee- knowing that that was another city that he could never return to.
Other than those two notable slip-ups, there were a couple more; since Sabin mostly stuck to small cities, he was generally able to escape- but the stories perpetuated. Mainly, they were stories of a white-haired werewolf (given France’s folktale base- and the prevalence of werewolf stories- and his situations seemed to fit that pattern.) Other than those, though, his loss of control was usually triggered by threats/attacks on his person or other situations where Sabin was very scared or in danger. The anju had to protect its body... Other than that, it would sometimes seize control during travel if it had been suppressed for a long period of time, or if a very tempting opportunity arose.
For the most part, he stuck to small cities and villages, but occasionally wandered into larger cities to visit libraries. As days stretched on to months and finally over a year, Sabin began the hard process of coming to terms with what had happened and noticed the beginning signs of a sort of mental merging between him and it.