~CASSELBA'S POV
BY THE WEEK'S END, I've become fully refreshed from the battle of Los Padres. Almost five days have passed since that gory full moon night. The scent of blood and the smell of dirt have faded from my mind. The only scent and smell now coating the air is that of the coming winter.
The weather forecasts have grown increasingly, the media spitting relays of the dropping temperatures. Even last night, as I drove back to my house from the Hallow Manor, I could scent the winter on the passing breeze.
It tickled my senses like tiny feathery sensations in my mind.
Werewolves share similarities with the normal lupines; the good thing of it all is that we don't need a weather forecast to tell us when it's going rain. Or in this present case, when it's going to snow.
