Leaves crunch noisily under my speeding steps, my heavy breaths drown out all else.

Anyone and anything could be behind me, cloaked in the shadow doused midnight woods, but I refuse to stop and find out.

I need to be in the moonlight.

Have to, really.

The uptick in paranormal media and interest lately has been a nightmare for people like me.

I snarl as my claw snags the bark of a tree that I attempt to weave past.

_Great_.

Just great.

A broken nail.

That’s _just_ what I need.

It’s not enough that us werewolves don’t get the full moon to ourselves anymore with all those people encroaching on our territory in hopes of catching our attention.

Now, I have to worry about looking good while I run, just in case I end up online?

We’re not interested, by the way.

Humans smell terrible.

All soapy and chemically treated.

Who even showers that much?

Honestly.

A cloud abruptly covers the moon and I decide I’ve had it with these fanatics.

I drop to all fours and gracelessly lope to the nearest glade.

A glade is naturally made, while a ‘field’ is not.

Fun fact of the day.

Focusing on my facts, the only constants in my life, I sprint away from my pursuants and the building terror consuming all else.

I burst into the clearing just as the moon emerges on the other side of the cloud.

My limbs go limp in relief and my neck extends to the sky, howling my delight and celebration of the fully restored illumination.

That was a close one.

If the humans found out that this was our sacred night because we’re afraid of the dark, we’d never live it down.