I stood on the side of a mountain peak, just below the precipice. On the precipice itself stood a silver wolf with harvest-moon eyes, and he made me nervous with the way he breathed. In with in, held with hold; every breath I took, he matched. We breathed together, exhaled together; and by this pacing he held me, pinned, like an insect to a collection. So when at last I fell into wakefulness, I knew I had been infected by the werewolf.
"So you didn't see anything?"
"You didn't see anything when you were attacked?"
"I'm sorry, but no. There was a light and a roar, I put my hand in front of my face and then I woke up here in this hospital."
"You know the girl is dead?"
"Yes, thank you. The doctor was kind enough to tell me in terms that weren't quite so blunt."
The police detective nodded. His eyes fell to my too-large and still slightly hairy fist. "Whattaya got there?"
I opened my hand to find a delicate finger with polished nail.
"Her color," said the detective.
I grimaced. "I want to talk to a lawyer," I told him. "A PETA lawyer."
Opening: D Jason Cooper.....Continuation: Bill H.