"Life is a funny thing, isn't it? Intrinsically walking from one place to another, but not moving anywhere. We humans do that all the time, especially with the werewolves following us. Some are... nice, human even. Most are what you'd expect from folklore, with the King of Arcadia paying with his humanity for his hubris. The nice ones are what we'd call the Tame. They are either human-raised born wolves or bitten humans. Our producer, Tom, is a born Tame. Great guy. Anyway... you were saying?"
The full moon had been climbing all evening, pale and perfect, until it finally settled in the square of the cabin window. It painted the wooden walls in silver, the kind of light that doesn't just shine—it lingers, seeps into the grain, into your skin.