A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Dog Fight

January 29, 2010
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Always bet on the werewolf to win the fight.

In a true fight, beyond the usual pack politics and bullshit of dominance fights, we don’t cave. We don’t give in, until death sets in. We’re like a reoccurring wave of defiance. We always get up, we always, fight. It’s ingrained in our nature, no matter how gentle and soft our human appearance makes us look. The werewolf inside, is not so malleable.

Those that wish to test us, should take note of that.

We just won’t back down to anyone or anything else, outside of Pack. Because in the end scheme of things, all werewolves will unite together for the common goal of survival.
Why do you think we live in packs?

Black Dog found this out the hard way.

He not only decided to start something as stupid as a fight. He decided to do it with a werewolf. An Alpha werewolf.

That’s like the best of our line. The warriors. They’re abilities aside, they’re instinct, to fight, to protect, to win, is legendary.

I watch teeth like razors sink into the soft underside of Black Dogs lipwerei’s throat. The animal part of him, yelps in pain.

The Blood flow is instant.

The bright red liquid coats the soft fur and wolf claws rake along the spotted fur of Black Dog’s forelegs. Instantly tearing open the fur to reveal, muscled flesh and a bit of bone.

I can’t help it, my nose twitches and I sniff the air. We all do.
The scent of blood was flowing freely and my inner werewolf likes that smell. Especially when it was from prey. I want a taste. It’s like a burning hunger in my gut, nothing else is going to satisfy it, but the bloody meat of prey.

My werewolf could tell without having to see through my very human eyes, that Black Dog was prey. A weakness that a werewolf was going to take advantage of.
But Paris isn’t going to kill him and let the wolves savage him.

I know this because if he had been, he’d already have ripped Black Dog’s throat open or taken off his head. No delay, no cause to go beyond, an instant kill of satisfaction.
That’s the werewolf talking.
That’s how we roll.

Black Dogs lipwerei barely gets a chance to do more than grip the Alpha Werewolf mauling it’s body.
Digging claws in, as if holding on, for the sake of some sort of save-face.
The oversized grey werewolf releases Black Dog from its clutches and shoves the bloody and ruined animal aside, like he’s nothing but an annoyance.

No, this fight, is about Black Dog learning a little respect.
He’s going to be horribly maimed. At least for tonight.

Which if his shape shifting abilities suggest, he should be able to recover from in the lunar week. But it’ll give him cause to think, to stop and think about this, before he tries anymore tricks on the Manhattan Pack.

Pisses off the Alpha.


January 28, 2010
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Have you ever seen a true werewolf fight?

Been to any of the underground Alpha dominance fights they hold around Brooklyn? They change the location after every fight, so you might find it hard to get into them. It’s kind of like you have to be in the know or know someone who knows someone who knows someone involved with organizing the fights to find out where they are.

Yeah, well I have.

It ain’t a fight unless there’s a ton of blood spilled, and someone’s almost dead or completely incapacitated at the end of it.

It’s not a fight until one werewolf, Alpha werewolf, gives in.

Can you imagine?

Take the most competitive, the most macho person you know. The toughest, bad ass and the most stubborn son of a bitch you know and roll them all into one hombre. Now pit that hombre against themself. Watch the pride and egos swell and surge.

We’re not allowed to deliberately kill one another, even in a dominance fight.

Werewolf lineages, low birth rates and all that. But werewolves are allowed to beat the absolute living crap out of each other to within an inch of death.

Go figure.

Alpha werewolves do not fuck around with that shit. They play hard and they hit harder, even in human form.

That’s the other thing about the dominance fights, they’re only held between Alpha werewolves and they’re held in human form.

No shape shifting allowed.

So you’re talking about a being who can take the hits and cope for far longer than any human could.

The beatings are mega powerful and they go on, for like forever. And one of them is ‘expected’ to give in. To take the beating, and then admit, someone else is the winner.

It’s beyond bitchy.

The tension in Crescent is so sharp, I’m beginning to think it can slice skin open just because we breathe and move in it.

But Black Dog isn’t an Alpha werewolf.

He’s a shape shifter, not that I think that holds some sort of advantage to him and disadvantage to Paris. It just means, that when my Alpha, Paris, beats his human ass to a pulp, he’s not going to going to be able to crawl away half as fast as a loser in a regular dominance fight.

I just hope Paris doesn’t murder him.

Black Dog circles around Paris, his arms up like he thinks’ he is actually going to be able to land the jabs he hopes to throw. He’s even got the boxer stance happening and is bouncing from foot to foot, lightly.

The crowd at Crescent have all but stopped whatever they were doing before this. A semi circle has formed around the shape shift and the Alpha werewolf. Paris has his shirt off again. He’s ripped. Broad shoulders, that show off a running display of back tattoos. Arms that look heavy and full of nothing but raw power. He’s just eyeing Black Dog.

Daring him.

Black Dog smirks back at him, moving far too much for someone who should not be nearly as confident as he appears to be for someone who’s going to get ripped to shreds.

This isn’t a sanctioned fight, isn’t about dominance or leadership. It’s about fighting, for the sake of fighting.

So that means, the normal rules of dominance fights don’t apply.

I guess that’s why I gasped, when Black Dog suddenly shape shifts. It’s like a slow blink of an eye. His body flows like fluid until before us all stands a giant creature.

Kind of looks like an Egyptian jackal. But that’s not right, the ears are wrong.
Then it comes to me.


More commonly known these days as a spotted Heyena.

Teeth bared like salivating wolf fangs, but a small face, and spotted fur, short ears and strong fore legs and hind legs.

Black Dog’s lipwereri throws back it’s head, and unleashes a haunting howl, that sounds like laughter filled with death.

Most of the wolves in the crowd, raise their hands to their ears and shrink back automatically, as if the laughter alone is like poison touching them.

But not Paris.

The man stands his ground, doesn’t even flinch at the horrible sound.

Instead, he launches himself straight at Black Dog, before he can finish putting his head back down from the howl.

As fluid, as the shape shifter, his figure shape shifts in flight, off the ground. His clothes tearing to pieces as the Alpha werewolf breaks out of his skin.

It’s like watching muscle rip open, replacing all that was human about him, with nothing but the Alpha werewolf.

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