Werewolf Lovesick Blues

I need a girlfriend.

Here I am, gnawing on some Possum-y thing, when the sudden, human thought popped into my head. It wasn't surprising, I mean, I have hunted before. It's just, you think of the weirdest things after the thrill of the pounce and kill fades.

I think of it like sex: you're getting all hot and sweaty- you think you could do this forever, and after that orgasm hits, you're both basking in the afterglow while your minds are turning to more mundane things, like what to have for breakfast, how to take that math test you completely forgot about after she got into bed with you, or you know, if the condom broke or not. Stuff you wouldn't think about when you're humping the living daylights out of someone. Not that'd I know or anything, I just listen to what my friends tell me.

Same thing here. After my hunt-gasm, the adrenaline was draining away and the blood in my mouth was cooling. Instinct gave away to human reasoning. With my stomach full, I wasn't anything more than a lonely guy in a wolf's body.

I need a girlfriend. I thought again. I never really gave it much thought before, but tracking and taking down a helpless woodland creature made me think about it. I had friends, when you were part of The Pack (A clique, really) you were never alone. It's just, I dunno, I just wanted someone I could get close to; Someone I could trust to say anything to and not feel like a complete moron about it. Someone I didn't always need to lie to. I thought about the girls in The Pack.

Now, just so all of you out there don't get confused with what all those books about us tell you, not every werewolf female is crazy, badass, and a constantly PMSing bitch. When they have their time of the month, sure, they could be like that. Other than that, they're pleasant to be around. I've hung out with them, but I don't think any of them would ever want to... You know, go out with me. Compared to the other, more muscular members of The Pack, I was scrawny. I'm the designated last resort, werewolf-race-close-to-extinction guy. Unless there was some kind of mass werewolf killing spree, the possibility of getting a girlfriend from The Pack was practically nil.

Sometimes I wish I didn't decide to become a vegetarian, getting buff wouldn't be as much of a problem. The possum in my mouth said otherwise, but when I'm human, it's nothing but tofu and broccoli. I'm a firm believer of karma, and why not? If werewolves exist, then invisible forces that liked to fuck with you after you do something wrong didn't seem too far off. I like to think of my vegetarianism as atoning for the things I hunt down during the night. I mean, I have a modest share of meat as a wolf, do I really need to eat roasted cows and chickens as a human?

Maybe I should try for a human girlfriend. At least most of them don't care whether or not your muscles are half of your body mass, or that you're packing a huge gun under your pants. I snorted, yeah, that'd turn out well, I could imagine having kids, ("Congratulations Mrs. Cramwell- it's a litter.") Besides, it was against the rules- No human mates. Could you imagine how fucked the werewolf population would be if there were hybrids running over the place? Now that I think about it, that wouldn't be a bad idea, a food shortage could count towards the werewolf-race-close-to-extinction requirement.

I threw the scraps of possum into the woods, and trotted back to the house.