The twenty-three-year-old women on TV are nothing like me. I've never been to a party, don't know the first thing about getting an education of any type, and my cell phone is a cheap prepaid thing that has barely enough money on it for one phone call. No, my life may not be the expectation of many, but for a werewolf, it's just fine.I stepped out of the small hunting cabin I was renting and into a chilly winter morning in the Colorado Mountains. The cabin was barely big enough for the few pieces of furniture I had in it, none of which were mine. The human in me didn't mind the lack of space, and the wolf part of me had no use for material things. She could make do in most situations, and the small cabin was only of benefit to the human. My wolf would likely prefer it if we never stopped long enough to need a cabin in the first place. She was practical like that, often reminding me that clothes and other things humans seemed to hoard were of no importance to the likes of us. After all, we had our life, and anything else was just gravy.As a human, I walked the mile into town with the night's frost clinging to my boots.
