Beneath her pants are knee length leggings which do absolutely nothing to hide the long, powerful shape of her limbs or the muscles rippling just under the skin.
She looks like she could snap you like a twig if she wanted...
Which, really, shouldn't surprise you. You've seen Vicky naked before. You've seen everyone in the pack naked before. It's a slightly awkward, but unavoidable part of being a werewolf.
But, standing in this dim, windowless room, her physicality is somehow impossible to ignore. The fluid, graceful way she moves... like a panther, perfectly sure in her own power.
"Is the reason you don't want CCTV because you like to exercise without clothes on?" you ask.
"The reason I don't want CCTV is sometimes, when I work out, my mind wanders... and when that happens, I shift."
"Even on new moon?"
"Even on new moon," she confirms, moving to take up position behind the sandbag. "Show me what you can do."
Next
You can fight. Of course you can fight. Fighting is part of what being a werewolf is. You know, without needing anyone to tell you, how to spread your legs, square your shoulders, and swing your body, lashing out with your claws, teeth, or just fists if you need to be a little more discreet.
It's instinct.
Except, apparently, it's not worth shit. At least, according to Vicky.
"You're relying on your wolf," she says as you snarl and strike the sandbag for what feels like the hundredth time. "The wolf is a useful thing to know. It helps you, guides you, but it should not control you."
"Fuck the wolf," you snarl. "I'm a person, not a monster."
"The wolf is not a monster," she says softly. "The wolf is part of you."
You punch the sandbag again. "How do I let the wolf guide me but not control me?" you growl. "That makes no sense."
"It's a balance," she explains. "You need to react quickly, and with force, in dangerous situations. That's exactly what you're doing now. You're hitting hard and fast. But if you want to conserve your energy, if you want to stay clear headed while you're under attack, you need to learn how to fight like a human too."
"I thought you were going to teach me how to fight vampires, not how to fight like a human," you say.
Vicky studies you. "Okay." She abandons the sandbag and moves to stand in another part of the room, facing you. "I'm a vampire," she says softly. "Try to kill me."