A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

The night is young

May 24, 2010
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I stand up to leave and Conall shoots up beside me just as quickly.

“Stay.” He says kind of softly. I almost believe it’s a plea.

I pause before I look at him, noting his friend with the drinks tray heading towards us. Along with Davey and some skank who’s eyes are flickering from me to Conall and back again.

She looks un-amused, even though she’s dressed like a total whore to capture everyone and anyone’s attention in the club. Werewolves, never afraid to flaunt themselves. Part of the sexual liberation we have I guess.

I still think she’s a skank.

I turn to look at Conall.

“I got you a drink.” He says nodding head towards the oncoming gang reunion. Davey is practically growling at me.

Guess Davey’s none to amused about seeing me and Conall in such close proximity again. Last time we were this close, we were a fur breath’s way from having a full on physical dominance fight at his party. Maybe he hasn’t forgiven me for standing my ground like you should and not being a cowering she wolf. Maybe he doesn’t think I’m worthy of being there or being next to Conall.

Well fuck him.

“I’m outta here.” I respond and start walking straight towards Davey and co. I can see him tense up as I move.

Fuck Davey, he flatters himself if he thinks I want to bitch slap him around on a lunar night.

I’ve got better things to do, even if it does involve just me alone with my own body. I’m normally not so easily affected by lunar nights, until it gets closer to full moon. But I’m not immune to lust and I can see temptation in the club and that’s enough to stir up my wolf and make me think of what I could be having with Paris right now, If I hopped the subway to Manhattan and maybe begged him to put me out of my sexual misery.

“Let me walk you home.” Conall offers falling into step beside me as we pass Davey, the skank and drinks boy.

“Werewolf remember? I’m the scary thing that goes bump in the night and there are no dark alleyways on my way home.” I keep heading for the front of the club. My heart beat is beginning to pick up. Bit like my pace.

“Still, two werewolves are better than one.” He says walking beside me as we exit the club.

“I’d ask for what but I don’t want to know the answer.” I reply as we hit the sidewalk and start walking in the brisk night air.

The sensation of moonlight hits us, even though the moon is not yet at it’s highest peak for the evening.

You can tell these types of things when you’re a born werewolf. It’s like a natural intuition linked to your biology. It feels like excitement being stretched out in every muscle of your body. Taking you further and further to the edge of whatever it is you’re looking for to complete the ride. Which reminds me about Conall.

He needs to shape shift tonight, he’s always had to shape shift every night of the lunar week. Unlike me.

So why’s he out walking me home instead of making out with some skank wolf in the clubs, getting ready for the shift?

My eyes flicker over to him and look away again as we walk on in silence beside each other.

Conall the werewolf being Conall the good wolf. Showing me he’s not sleeping around on a lunar night, walking me home like old times. And I feel restless, edgy, that’s why I decided I wanted out of that club. Conall’s like a pressure on that edge that I don’t want.

Oh this is not good. Not good at all.

And the nights young.

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