You lean against a tall, beaten conifer, contemplating the full moon that's only a few nights away. Briefly, you look at your jeans. Well, the remains of your jeans. You can't seem to remember to take off your clothes before you "change." It's had a severely negative effect on your wardrobe.
Maybe if you just wrote yourself a note...
Nah. You're too lazy to do that. Besides, the tattered ends of your pants look kind of cool. It's a shame about that rope belt, though. It's very hillbilly-like and not at all chic.
Suddenly, you hear a rustling on your right. You crouch down, hugging your thin, girlish arms around your knees, and make yourself as small as possible. You honestly don't know if you want to hide or jump out at the intruder.
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