Weeks passed like this.

Each morning I would sweep the porch, eat breakfast, and play with Moira until Sampson appeared to greet me with a grin and say, "Fancy another day here?"

I always accepted his offer, though my mind screamed at me to leave.

It came to pass that Sampson no longer asked but expected me to stay. Less and less I was a guest, and more and more I was becoming a valuable member of the tavern.

Almost family.

Almost.

I had to tell Sampson that my stay was ending. I could not risk becoming a monster while under his care.

Would he be angry with me? Disappointed?

I thought of telling him I needed to find my sister, but I knew the kind man would surely mean to join my search, although I'm certain he believed my entire family was gone.

He wouldn't be persuaded into releasing a child back to the woods.

Every night the wolf threatened to spring forth, so I counted it a blessing to wake as a human. 

But each passing of the sun and moon felt like a march towards inevitable horror.

I'm anxious, the wolf in my nightmares whined. I need to taste blood.

I became tense around the family and guests. 

Any day, any hour now, the wolf promised.

With people parading in and out at all hours, someone was sure to see the transformation when it happened.

I considered it might be best to sneak away at night and leave everyone wondering about my disappearance. It was the safest option, I told myself, even if they thought poorly of me or worried because of it.

Sampson began to look at me in a peculiar manner, and it took me several days to realize it was the same sort of way Pa used to look at me.

He was imagining I was his son.

To combat his growing affection (and mine), I tried to place a wall between my heart and the man. I was terse in conversation and offered nothing beyond answers to questions I was asked. My nightmares began to include Sampson, and the look that would take hold of his eyes when I changed before him.

"Something's got hold of your mind," he said one day as we were chopping wood. "Might ease you to speak it."

"Just missing home," I replied stoically. "And my real family." 

He winced at my words, but the man was ever gentle.

"It'll get easier with time. Only time. You know, Josiah, it struck me that a good way to heal your past might be to find a new future." 

His eyes never left his work, as if he was afraid of what he was saying or how I might respond to it.

He placed a log on the chopping stump.

"Could be time to make an important decision. Put your roots in the ground, so to speak. And maybe it's not forever. Maybe it's a couple of years. Until you're ready, you know? To set off on your own."

"Put my roots in the ground?"

He halted mid-swing and set his axe down before turning to meet my eyes.

"Stay here. I've talked it over with Angela, and if you can believe it, she liked the idea. She likes the way you tend to Moira. Surely you've noticed our daughter adores you." He released a soft chuckle. "Every morning I hear that little voice. 'Jossy!'. Brings a smile to my face. And I like your company."

He sat on the stump and pulled a cloth from his pocket to wipe his brow.

"Didn't mean to ever tell anyone this, but we had a son. Born not long after we were married. His name was Barley."

Sampson's eyes turned to the woods, and his mouth carried on without the full attention of his ears.

Too pained, I guess, to care to hear what he was saying.

"Cute thing. Didn't make it through a year. Fever took hold of him and—" He gave a meaningful glance my way. "You understand why I couldn't leave you in the woods. Since then, there's been a...it's like a hole inside of me. Inside Angela, too. We couldn't bear losing another child. I think that's why she was so cautious of you at first, and why I was so keen on keeping you around. Angela and I have tried for another child, but nothing's taken since Moira. She's our lone miracle. I won't lie, Josiah. Sometimes I look at you and I see Barley. You help fill that hole a little."

"Sampson...I'm sorry...for what happened."

My voice sounded small.

The smile on Sampson's mouth was full of pain.

"Nothing worse than losing a child." He raised the cloth and dabbed the corners of his eyes. "Now don't think I mean you'll have to call me 'pa'. Your family wasn't fortunate enough to look after you, and for that they have my sympathy and understanding. But we've got food and shelter. And we've got love. More than enough to share with you."

He motioned to the tavern.

"Bit of peace and routine might help, you know? You learn fast. I could teach you how to survive as a man in the world. All the things a father gets to teach his son—"

His voice cracked and a small whimper broke through, taking the rest of Sampson's words with it.

What could a boy say to a desperate man's pleading? I admit, having a place to call home was enticing, too enticing, for a child who had been lost for what felt like forever.

And after what Sampson told me, the strength it took to unburden his pain, it wouldn't be easy to leave. I would be forcing two parents to lose another son.

But if I stayed, I would be endangering the lives of the people who wanted to love me. 

There was another question, more complex and painful, that nagged my mind:
Was I betraying my real family?

"I see the struggle in your eyes, plain as the sun," Sampson said. "It doesn't upset me. It makes me happy, because it means you're considering what I asked. You don't need to give your answer now. In the meantime, we can keep going as we have been."

I wanted to repay his honesty with my own. I was ready to reveal who the wolf really was, and tell him that he never needed to fear me in its form.

But that would be a lie.

"Thank you, Sampson. I will think about it."

We remained silent for the rest of our work. I understood Sampson was being cautious, trying not to grow any further attachment. He was distant, but not unfriendly.

He gave me the lead to decide our fates.

An uneasy power for a child to have.

It was night and I was in the barn. Sampson had given me a short candle for light, after making me promise a hundred times to blow it out before falling asleep.  

It had been two days since his proposal, and there was a growing anxiousness from both of the parents as they waited for my reply. Angela, who had grown less stern over the last few weeks, became almost motherly towards me, and there was a protectiveness in her tone when she bid me and Sampson a successful hunt each morning.

Still, they both remained formal in their conversation. Instead of asking me about things like my past and dreams of the future, they confined their topics to how my day was going and if I was getting enough to eat.

But behind their idle questions was always a much bigger ask.

Are you going to join our family?

It was obvious Moira saw me as a brother. It might be nice to be the older sibling for once.

I brushed the hay from the floor and laid the candle there. I looked at my body, squinting to see if I could catch a sign that the wolf was ready to spring from my bones. The wound in my leg had disappeared, and not a trace of it remained. The skin covering it was new, without a freckle or scratch. Even the terrible injury I'd suffered from Hansel was gone. 

I looked at my feet, my hands, my arms, my—

My arm. It looked different. Something was wrong. I puzzled over it while twisting my arm under the candlelight. 

"Oh."

It was bare.

Ma's skin symbol was gone. I remembered the pain when she pierced the ink into me before saying goodbye forever, but nothing remained as evidence of it. Ma said it was a protection spell, something I could never drop or leave behind, but somehow I managed to lose it.

Or maybe I hadn't lost it. Maybe I'd grown a new body.

"I wonder..." I whispered to myself, and in my mind I completed the thought:

If the curse was not a curse.

My old body had died, hadn't it? Perhaps I had been saved by a benevolent and powerful being—

Could this be the work of the Queen of the Wood Ma spoke about? Was there a presence that looked after people and saved them not just from danger, but death?

Marmy Jo had saved us. The Knight covered in moss had, too. Even Jill, I remembered, sheltered us when the Collector was at our heels.

It might have been a one-time miracle.

Maybe it was a secret rule of the woods, that to grow a new human body you first had to become something else.

To a child's mind, it made sense.

And it was far more comforting than the alternative.

The wolf in my dreams is just my fear talking.

If the animal was real, surely it would have already taken over by now.

A sliver of hope was restored by that notion.

I could stay with Sampson and Angela and Moira. I'd have food and a safe place to sleep.

I looked at my leg again. Just as there was no scar, there was nothing that hinted I would transform a second time.

Yes, it was a fluke. A one-time blessing. It had served its purpose and saved me, and that was a good thing. 

That's when I concluded that wherever you were, Credence, you were better off by yourself. You were strong, and I knew you would make it to the purple house. I was only a weight slowing you down and getting you into trouble.

But here, with Sampson and his family, I meant something. I helped rather than hindered.

Filled a hole in their hearts.

I made my decision. I wanted my adventures to end. I wanted somewhere to belong.

If the wolf ever did return, I would run into the woods before anyone saw me. 

I'm strong and smart, I reasoned. I know how to handle danger.

The same gullibility that pushed me through the window the night Pa died.

"Josiah, the brave," I whispered. "I don't need a talisman. I am a hero."

I looked at the barn around me.

"Home."

I settled into bed and closed my eyes, confident my dreams would be free of monsters.

If I had known what misery would visit the family because of that choice, I would have run from the barn and into the woods, to get as far away as I possibly could.