She's fast, really fast, and able to pivot like a goddamn ballerina.
You lose sight of her several times as she swerves through the streets. Your legs burn as you try to keep pace.
But you do keep up. And so does Marco. He's closer, almost close enough to grab her. But every time he tries, she ducks, twists, and vanishes down another alleyway.
You snarl in frustration. This wasn't how you wanted things to turn out.
But then you hear it.
A howl.
It's not an audible sound. It's not really a sound at all. It's a knowing, deep in your bones.
We're here.
Marco hears it too. The stray doesn't, despite the fact that Vicky and Ed are doing nothing to keep the broadcast quiet. She must have been packless for a long time to be so deaf. You though, you feel Vicky and Ed as they clamber out of a nearby car and run along a parallel street.
Pack.
Next
Marco lunges for the stray again but you see it for what it is. It isn't a grab this time. It's a feint, and she falls for it, veering away to race down another narrow side street... straight towards Vicky and Ed.
Marco grins. It's a savage grin. Ugly. Toothy.
Your own teeth feel heavy and crude in your mouth. You're not grinning though. You're snarling. A part of you, the part that usually only surfaces when you're on four legs, is enjoying this. The chase. The hunt.
Fuck it. This situation is fucked. You're a person, not an animal. You're not going to let the wolf control you. You're not.
You need to end this quickly and cleanly before you lose control.
Next