A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Territorial | March 25, 2010

Lunar week usually means for once in our furry lives (Ha) that us werewolves know exactly our place, in the scheme of things.

We understand what will happen to us as the moon goes through it’s monthly phases of the week. We know what to expect. We do not feel alone, or left out, or a freak. We are amongst the many, rather than the few. At least, it feels that way. The feeling of unity and of something positive is free flowing. It’s like being given your own bit of guaranteed happiness for a week.

That is of course, unless, the routine of this momentum and time is interrupted, corrupted and wrecked by outside circumstances or beings who would prey upon our time to indulge in a little bit of life.

Or of course, if you have a painful ex boyfriend who just won’t leave you be for whatever demented reasons he carries around in his head.

I was on my way out, heading over to Paris’s place when Conall pulled up beside me in the street, in his truck and asked if I wanted I lift somewhere. Stupid me, for a nano second I thought he was being polite, civilized, you know, like a person to me. I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever be able to be ‘friends’ again. Maybe being friends is overrated anyway.

“Thanks, but I’m going a little further than you’re hood.”

He was bent slightly forward, looking back through the passenger window at me.
“The Empire State is still a part of New York you know.” He replied back at me.

Why was he being persistent ? Or was he just being nice? Or was that an insult?
God, he does my head in.

“I was aware of that. Thanks all the same for the info.” I replied with a smile and straightened up again. I didn’t want to get into whatever it was I was imagining we might be getting into by the sidewalk. I started to walk off again.

Werewolves and their sense of territory, doesn’t just extend to landscapes and still life property. That’s when I heard the car door slam, but he kept the truck engine running, and jogged around the front of the truck to me.

So stupid. I stopped when he got to me. Don’t know what I was expecting. Don’t know what the hell was going on. Don’t want to know what’s going on in that head of his, I could never get a handle on it when we were together. So what hope is there now?

“You know, you don’t have to avoid all of Brooklyn these days, just because I live here.”

Oh goody. He was looking for a fight. Yay me.

“I’m not.” I replied keeping eye contact with him.
He nodded his scruffy head up and down.
“You sure about that? Lunar week’s almost here and you’re doing what? You’re regular avoidance dance to Manhattan, to him.”

I sighed.
I was never very good at fighting Conall. It always made me tired.

“What are you like spying on me now?” He didn’t answer but he did look away briefly. Is that guilt by omission? “You know, when you’re actually able to say his name, then I’ll believe you’ve gotten through the anger and we can talk again.”

I turned and walked off on him quickly. Territorial alright.

Conall always saw me as his property, as his toy. Discarded me more often then not, but whenever anyone else showed interest, Conall would suddenly go uber-wolf n them and give them a lesson in backing down and away from what he saw as his – me. Same old werewolf. Not that I ever expected him to change. It’s kind of like he has some major Alpha traits, for a beta wolf. Like being incredibly fucking stubborn!

Werewolves believe strongly in territory. This thought of behavior goes something like, territory is shown as strength and power to your peers and as achievement to your enemies. However, in the case of Conall and I, I don’t really think he ever looked on me as some sort of powerful person, or even possession. He probably never once thought about losing me until I finally broke up with him. And I highly doubt that any of his so called friends are giving him grief over our break-up, or that his enemies, are even taunting him about going after me.

So I can’t figure out what the hell he wants with me, if this isn’t the case. Other than he feels slighted, insulted, because a werewolf of higher ranking in pack position – Paris, and in fact in a larger pack – The Manhattan Maen, (which most wolves will agree they see as more powerful because of numbers alone) has personally begrudged him. Insulted Conall, because he (Paris) got me.

Ugh.

It’s seriously too much. I don’t know what I’m supposed to go on when the guy won’t speak to me honestly. Just angrily with innuendos and taunts.

I heard the car start up and watched him speed off past me and that was that.
Brooklyn is definitely werewolf territory, just got to know how to navigate the mind fields of it’s males.

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2 Comments »

  1. Love this post!

    I don’t like Connall.. he sounds like a jerk to me..

    Comment by Blackredbluefire — March 25, 2010 @ 9:40 pm

    • Yes, well…your not the only one who thinks he’s a jerk!

      Comment by Breukelen Girl — March 25, 2010 @ 10:44 pm


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