A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

The to do list. | July 10, 2010

Spending a couple days in a cage, does wonders for a girl’s bitch meter.

Gabby from the Manhattan Maen Pack found this out, after the fact.

Sure, there was a reason I was put in the cage. But being put in a cage, doesn’t mean I have to or am every likely to, enjoy being there. I can understand that, because being in heat, isn’t as simple as it fucking sounds when you’re a werewolf.   But then again, when is anything ever simple when you’re a werewolf?

Always having to double think things through, always checking over your shoulder, always aware of your surroundings and always, consciously working on your control and being in control of the animal side of you. Always, that control thing, that never stops. Like ever, throughout your entire existence.

It’s part of the condition, susceptible to things, like, the unpredictability of suddenly being in heat.

Returning to Manhattan for Paris, must’ve been like going into rehab for him. You know, a paid for holiday away from the distraction that is me, in his life.  At least, that’s what Gabby told me when she came to get me.

She works with him, did I tell you that?

Fucking hate that. She’s his pack, so really, not much choice in the matter. Every pack werewolf is expected to do whatever is required of them, when called upon by their leading Alpha.  And Gabby would never want to disappoint Paris, if she thought she could somehow get into his good graces and bed.

She took one look at me and her whole demeanor changed in a heartbeat.  Scowling, growling and ready to bear claws.

Apparently, I had sex hair and was glowing.

Apparently Gabby doesn’t like sex hair and the glowing look on me, because it indicates I’ve

A)    had sex

B)    had sex recently

C)    had a lot of sex recently

D)    and done it all with Paris

Also, did I mention on no particular principal, she just hates my guts?

Never has liked me, from the moment we met.  Probably because

A)    I’m younger than her

B)    I’m also cuter

C)    I’m dating the guy she so obviously wants

D)    I’m fucking the guy she so obviously wants

E)     She’s been mooning over him, for years (no solid proof on this, just a hunch, since they’re from the same pack and all)

F)     Paris has never shown any interest in dating or fucking her. EVER.

G)    I’m not from her pack and I’m dating her Alpha.

Gabby was on pack duty. Doing what was required of her, as asked by her pack leader, Paris.   Paris got called away and his lieutenants were all tied up in other pack business, and so Gabby got called in.   We weren’t in Brooklyn or Manhattan and she had to come and collect me, to take me back home.

Yes, what a genius idea in learning patience, understanding and tolerance. In keeping tempers firmly under control.  Put me and bitch face together in a car, for awhile. And instruct us, not to tear each other, or the car apart.

The car was after all, only a rental.

“I’m not doing this for your benefit.” She stated as we both got into the car.

“I wouldn’t think you’d ever do anything for anyone’s benefit other than your own.” I replied, sliding into my seat.  She tensed up and turned to face me.

“I’m not allowed to tear this car apart with you in I, because I was asked, not to, by my Alpha. That’s the only reason, you’re safe in here.  If I didn’t have to do this bullshit baby sitting duty on some velléitaire, sous développé, l’onu digne, excuse for a loup-garou, I wouldn’t hesitate to make my case known about how much I dislike you and how you don’t belong amongst my pack or in the presence of my Alpha.”

I think her verbal attack was supposed to make me cry or something.

Phul-ease.  Take a ticket and get in line, jealous bitch.

“Chienne drive.” I replied calmly clicking my seat belt into place.

She snapped her teeth closed and shape shifted them to werewolf fangs, before lunging across the seat at me and snapping them closed, close to my neck.  I felt her breath touch my skin.

I tried not to flinch and react.

She laughed and pulled back into her own seat and started the car up.   Pulled her sunglass down and kept laughing before muttering through those fangs “Your nothing but a velléitaire loup-garou”.

Relaxing, wasn’t exactly what I came out feeling from getting out of that cage.  It might have been caged to prevent me from being a harm to others, but I’d probably have enjoyed beating her down when I’d been in heat.  It’d have given me something to do with my  paws.

Things to keep in mind, for the next time for the what “to do” list.


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