Were

by John Xero


A tumbling of claws and fur and teeth. A bulbous moon throbbing silver-grey light across the woodland. Ferns and shrubbery shaking, breaking. Bark torn from tree trunks.

Barks torn from throats.

She has him on his back, but he twists and throws her off with inhuman strength, leaping after her and pinning her to the ground. She snarls and bites. He howls.

The forest cowers.

And when they are done they lie in the disturbed undergrowth, panting. In the morning there will be regrets, fears, accusations, recriminations – human things. Beneath the moon they think wolf thoughts, and things are simpler.

Author bio: There's an animal inside us all, the trick is finding the balance. John Xero writes. In everything, the trick is finding the balance.

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