Chapter Forty-Six: Beach
Is it weird for a werewolf to own dogs? This is a question that's plagued our species for generations. I think the reason why is obvious. Whatever the answer is, the old packmembers owned plenty, and as a kid I often watched them play. Memories of those dogs sprung to mind when I drop into a play bow, my tail in a happy wag. It's so strange; all these years, insisting I was human, telling anyone who would listen that there wasn't a scrap of wolf in me. And now, my orange fur blew in the cold beach wind and I was essentially just an oversized dog. As many werewolves as I've met, I hate to admit it; they'll never stop looking majestic. This one was huge, smaller than Nico and Seth, and shorter than I was, but all muscle. The brown fur looked even thicker and warmer up close, and his eyes
- Writer
