Damon's POV
The village was called Threnwick.
Damon had been there once before, years ago, for reasons he couldn't fully remember now. Something pack related. He had driven through it and noticed the food smell coming from a small restaurant on the main street and had told himself he would come back and then never had.
He had been thinking about that restaurant for three years.
It did not disappoint.
They found a table in the corner by the window....small, slightly wobbly, with paper menus that had clearly been photocopied so many times the edges were grey. The kind of place that had been there for forty years and wasn't trying to impress anyone. The kind of place where the food was good because the people who made it actually cared about food and not because anyone was watching.
