DECEMBER 19, 1798
Oh, what a joyous day! Marybeth is now 346 or 19!
She sits in the grand ballroom of the clan’s land. The many tiny sheds forming a large circle around the ongoing fire. Various members of the clan help each other by pulling oak stumps so they may sit around the burning flame.
The moon shone down on Marybeth, emphasizing her features. The dhampir had a rare, small grin on her face that showed her sharp fangs.
”La mulţi ani..” her clan chanted in a rhythmic manner, clapping along to the melody of the tune. Lună de Sânge softly chuckled, placing a hand over her mouth.
Alexandru, the half-vampire’s father walked over to her frame sitting on a tree stump. He pulled out a fine china plate and sitting on top was a delicately crafted cupcake. She immediately took the plate, picking the pastry up to her mouth before. . .it fell to the dirt covered ground.
“Whoopsies. . .”