God, always the same thing.
Horror movies presented a false narrative of the struggles of lycanthropy and Vale knew this well. They always talked about the bloodlust, they talked about the pain, they always talked about the surge in energy, unable to be contained. Nobody talked about the deep sense of loneliness, an almost pathological avoidance of abandonment. Packs meant survival, people meant survival, and yet a condition like this was so damning. It was unlikely they'd ever meet anyone like them, or anyone would even believe them if they shared what they were going through.
Good thing unlikely odds were Vale's favorite kind of odds! To stand up against fate, to beat the odds, to be the underdog (for lack of a better word), that was Vale's meaning in life. So, they packed up their bags, they got a van, they set out for a life on the road! Vale was bound and determined to find someone like them, find people who believed in the supernatural, no matter where it took them. Through valleys, through mountains, through forests, through swamps,
Following their heart, no map or compass other than the digital map on their cellphone, Vale ended up in Louisiana, inside a lovely little shop that simply seemed to beckon in any lost, curious mind. In such curious shop, there was a curious owner, one only a little taller than Vale, but with the way Vale slouched, they peered up at the owner with their soft, green eyes as they asked...
Hey, y'know, y'seem dope! Wanna get drinks after your shift or...?
God, always the same thing.
"Whoa, wait, s'this sorta thing happen a lot to ya?" Incredulous grin on their face, Vale displayed a brief glimpse of the teeth that almost looked too big and too sharp to fit in their mouth. "Sorry, don't mean t'objectify you or anything like that! I wanna get drinks with you 'cuz I like talkin' with ya! Not just 'cuz you're cute!"
