A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Werewolves are not pets | November 12, 2009

Okay I need to clarify something I’ve said before in various posts on this blog.

Werewolves are not monsters.

When I say we – werewolves are not monsters, I mean to say, we’re not mindless and without reason.

As many a movie might have you believe. It’s odd, the movies seem to go for the scare factor, make us the big scary, fury, thing that will not just go bump into the night into you, but will bite you as well. Novels however, in more recent times, seem to put us in a more genuine light, whilst focusing it might seem, on our animal nature and issues of romantic entanglement.
Hands up who hasn’t been there.

Notice how both my hands are down?
Been there, done that, got the t-shirt and wrote the postcard back home.

So when I say werewolves are not mindless monsters, that’s not to say we’re completely cute and furry either.

You can’t just walk up to us and pet us when we’re in our tribal form. Most likely cause we’ll react like any animal – suspiciously, if not defensively and probably bite your hand right off. Yep, through the bone and then we’ll probably drink the blood, bury our snout in it, while you run around screaming the last of your breath out.

Werewolves are not pets, you don’t get to have us for the holiday season then dump as at the pound after that. You can not control us. You can not take us home with you and train to do circus tricks.

We are beasts, animals, at least in part.

So please, for the love of Loki, don’t believe the hype when the latest version of those twilight things come out. I mean, they’re only make believe. And they make me believe that whoever was doing the so called special effects on that film, didn’t have a fucking clue when it came to werewolves.

We are a proud race, no matter what pack you find yourself from.
Our heritage is distinguished and our culture is ancient.
We are absolute warriors when in a fight for blood and life.

Just ask the Braganza Pack who recently tried a thing or two on Breukelen turf and got handed their furry butts back to themselves on stretchers for the animal hospital rescue squad.

Even not in werewolf form, I could still smack down most things, if I was any good as a fighter.

But in werewolf form, I am damn near unstoppable, and fairly, it has to be said, indestructible.
But that isn’t to say I am without thought or reason.

I may not retain my memories of my time in my tribal form. But I have been around others when they are in werewolf form. I’ve seen the way they think. The way the werewolf sizes up it’s prey, their surroundings. You can see the werewolf calculating, going on their survival instinct on what they need to do for whatever reason.

So whilst we can be the fiercest fighting machines in the uber-animal kingdom, we are not just wildly rampaging the cityscape, attacking people.

At least, not without true purpose.
There’s always some dumb reason to fight.

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