No. You're not giving into this. You're a person. You make your own choices. You're not controlled by the wolf. You're not controlled by the moon. You're not here. This is a dream. Wake up. WAKE UP.
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You wake up.
You're in your bed, soaked in sweat.
Sunlight is streaming in between your curtains. The clock on your bedside table tells you it's ten past eleven. The air hums with voices, muffled through the walls, but recognisable. The pack is gathered in the living area, probably for lunch.
You sit up and rub your brow.
Fuck.
You haven't had a dream like that in a long time. Not since joining the pack.
Though, it doesn't take a genius to figure out what exactly triggered it. Skinny, brown fur, grey eyes.
That damn stray.
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