"No reason we can't do both," Marco says cheerily and takes a swig from his coffee. "Besides, are you seriously telling me you would rather stand here, freezing our arses off, keeping an eye out for who-knows-what, in silence?"
"If the only other option is octopus sex, then yes."
He rolls his eyes. "Fine. No more octopus sex."
"Thank God."
"But you have to admit it's weird that we're out here, right? I mean, I love the Alpha. He gave me a chance when no one else would blah-blah-blah, but this is crazy. No one is going to try anything on a night like this."
He has a point.
Normally, you wouldn't be outside this late or in this sort of weather. At least, not on two legs, and not this side of the full moon. But the city is new territory for the pack, and the Alpha has everyone taking turns keeping watch until he is sure no local 'hero' decides to turn their silver cutlery collection into an anti-werewolf arsenal.
It's been a week. So far no one has tried to stab you with a serving spoon.
Probably because most city people don't believe in werewolves, witches, or any other type of 'paranormal' anymore. Sure, plenty of houses still have wards over the front door, and there's always some pedlar pushing protection amulets in the subway station. But, most of the time, it's really only the hunters you have to worry about.