Prologue to My Werewolf Novel

         Wind rushed through my light gray fur as the icy earth flashed under my paws, pure exhilaration. Running is bliss when you have four legs and a body built for high endurance. The feeling of being able to run and run and never get tired is a freedom humans have trouble understanding. Endurance, balance, speed; all key aspects to my self satisfaction. Only one thing can make this better; and that is running after  something.
       
         I glanced at my beautiful mate, her fiery brown eyes ablaze with the excitement of the hunt. Her dark brown fur was a stark contrast to the winter wonderland that played out amid the evergreen woods. In the night she is a ghost's shadow, the fire in her eyes the only thing giving her away. Muscles rippled underneath her midnight fur, tail swishing to and fro, balancing her stride. She caught me watching and her mouth fell open in a toothy wolf grin, then motioned to our prey. I nodded and tore after her.
       
         Our victim, a large buck, had been hoofing at the ground in a small clearing next to a now frozen brook. Des, had picked up his scent and followed it to where he was  grazing. Taking her lead we began to chase the buck back toward our home. Countless deer had fallen for the same trap, helplessly ignorant of our scheme. The plan hardly changed because their mindless fear never let them think out the consequences of taking this particular route. Our wolf scents littered the land out here, crisscrossing tracks, resting spots, previous kills, every part of these woods reeked of our presence. But they never learn.
       
         Slowing my pace, I dropped back to run along Des's side and then brush my tail across her face, letting her know I was veering of course. She understood why. I broke off from her side, running a large half circle away from them to camp out ahead, lying in ambush. My gray body was perfectly hidden in the underbrush. All I had to do now was wait, but tell that to my giddy wolf brain still pumped from the adrenaline excitement of the hunt.  My heart was pounding in my keen ears, switching in all directions, listening for their approach. I caught it. The sharp chop-chop of deer hooves hitting snow and the much softer, dull thu-thud of wolf paws tearing ground in pursuit.
       
         Des was snapping at the buck's heels, driving him wild with panic. I could smell his fear, filling my brain, spurring my instincts into action. I jumped from my hiding spot, running full into the deer's path. He only ran faster. That was a major flaw in the deer thought process. When you are scared, run; when you are in danger; run faster. One reason why they get hit by cars so much.
       
         Finally my chance came, I sprang on my prey, sinking my teeth into it's hindquarters, ripping chunks out of his flank. With the added weight of my slightly larger than normal-wolf body, he slowed enough for Des to launch on his shoulders, biting and clawing deep wounds into his side. I jumped off and ducked away, avoiding the kicking hooves. Killing deer is dangerous, and no wolf would ever attempt it alone. Antlers can rip open your stomach, hooves can split a skull. We aren't human hunters with the benefit and safety of long distance weaponry. Some humans say it's a rush to shoot a deer 70 yards off. Try getting up in his face and see what a rush it is then.
       
         With Des on the deer's shoulder kicking at his front legs, he began to stumble. I took the opportunity and dashed at his throat. All too easy. I clamped down my jaws on the thick blood channels of the neck and felt them pop, blood filling my mouth, it's metallic taste driving me near the edge of insanity and pure pleasure. The now oxygen starved brain of the deer quit giving orders and he went down hard, face first in the snow, tumbling into a barrel roll and stopping on his right side, dead before his legs hit the ground. A great kill, if I do say so myself.
       
         Trotting up to Des, I prodded her muzzle with mine, indicating I was giving first pick of the meat to her. While it is wolf instinct and duty to let Alpha males make the killing blow, and get first pick of the meat, as I said I am not a regular wolf. I am an entirely different kind of wolf.       
       
         I am a werewolf. No not your half-man half-beast giant monster you see in the movies, although I can make myself look like it with some practice and concentration. There is a lot about werewolves I don't know but a lot of myths I do know are false. Like you don't need silver to kill us, and we can go to church and other sorts of things like that. You do get the gene by being bitten by a werewolf, and a few other ways too. But that's another story.
       
         Being a werewolf isn't magic or even supernatural. I don't Change under a full moon, I don't rape and murder, I'm not a mindless monster. From what I do know, being a werewolf is perfectly explainable with scientific facts...if I knew them. It's just not supernatural. When I Change I can feel my organs rearranging, my bones shrinking and growing. Changes have nothing to do with lunar activity, rather are roughly weekly cycles. I can Change anytime but I must change once every week to two weeks. It's easier to Change if I haven't done it in a while, but harder on the second or third time in one day. Anyways, back to dinner.
   
         Semi tired from the hunt I picked a comfortable spot to lie down and rest while Des started to dine. As soon as I sat though, Des came over and tugged on my ear. Ok, I thought, I guess you don't want first bite. I followed her over to the kill, it's scent now filling my brain, the scent of a fresh kill, and tantalizing meat. Des bent down and tore off a large section of meat, still steaming in the cold wintry night, and held it out for me. When I tried to grab it, she yanked it out of my reach, amusement flickering in her very human looking, yellow brown eyes. So ya wanna play that game eh? I pounced on her, wrestled the meat out of her jaws, and started to stand up again. Wait, that was to easy, maybe she---Des  kicked out my legs and sent me crashing to the ground, the meat landing out of my reach, She calmly walked over to the meat, picked it up, and let out a short low grunt deep in her throat that I have come to recognize as a canine laugh.
       
         I don't know why I didn't see it coming, I couldn't beat Des in a wolf fight if I wanted to. I am a year her senior, but she has been a werewolf ten years longer then I have. Again, another story, another time.
       
         And so the evening burned on, with us tumbling and playing, feasting on delicious venison, and playing in the snow. I even tried to make a snowman, but seeing as how I couldn't lift the pieces onto each other without opposable thumbs, and my muzzle got really cold really quick, I settled for just making him lying down. While most people would consider it a curse or a burden to be a werewolf, Des and I thoroughly enjoyed every bit of it.
       
         Later we were exhausted and tired from over eating, we found our way back to our clothes. That's another perk about the whole scientific-non-magical werewolf thing. If you Change with clothes on, you rip them, when you Change back, you're naked. The only exception is the small dog collar Des wears, which she adjusts before each change, and a necklace she gave me, which is large when I'm human, but just snug when I'm a wolf. That makes it a necessity to have clothes hidden and remember where you took them off, especially in the winter months.
       
         We Changed back, pain and all, got dressed and lie exhausted under the bow of an evergreen tree.
       
         "Gotta go home sometime, Love," I said, pulling her close, my body betraying my words.
       
         "Yea, but just a few minutes longer," Des said as she snuggled closer, "I'm not ready to accept life again."
       
         "Always were the lazy good-for-nothing loaf, just using me for my rugged good looks and my millionaire estate," I joked, smiling down at her, her shoulder length, golden hair contrasted by the black hair closer to her neck, one layer under it. Her brown bangs barely concealed those spell binding fiery eyes.
       
         "Yea, and what's that about judging books? At least I'll get your millions after I kill you, no way am I going to be stuck with your loser butt forever."
       
         "Oh but you are," I said, smiling broader now, " you're stuck with me forever and ever and ever and---" she silenced me with a kiss.
       
         "Wouldn't have it any other way, baby doll,"  she whispered, her eyes working their magic on me,  "And your not going anywhere."