9 June 2012
He was wearing only his tattered grey trousers when I saw him.
I could smell the wolf on him.
And I could see it, in the rippling planes of his chest. His pale chest.
My own wolf, inside me, pricked her ears and began loping languidly towards my surface.
Something was happening.
Something strange.
I looked up; the moon was at its fullest.
Wolf Man. • Opuss № I