Since I troubled the wolves, they made me wear the moon in my eyes. There’s only one day of the month, full moon, where I can see with my whole vision. Then the moon wanes gibbous and a little slice curves off the edge of my sight. It shifts to its third quarter and I can only see the left side of anything, and by the time it’s waned crescent I’m all but blinded. Then it starts to come back. My eyesight waxes again. More of it becomes mine. 

I shouldn’t have gone into the woods.

Wolves can se...