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[News: Repose]
[In the midsts of the crazy stories pouring out of the Capital, this one hits the radar only 'cause it's real close to home. Late Wednesday evening, Animal Control is called in along with first responders to the shadier of the two bars in town, up north, after a patron is mauled by what witnesses fleeing the bar describe as a large, black wolf.
Officially, it's said the animal must've slipped in through the back door of the bar, likely in search of food. But it's the unofficial accounts that tell something stranger. Cleaning up the next day, one of the girls finds a leather jacket in a stall of the women's bathrooms (and 'cause it's that part of town, any phone or identifying items in the pockets are long since cleaned out by some enterprising soul). Admittedly, a lost jacket is not at all odd on its own—but the shredded clothing all over the floor definitely is, next to a pair of carefully discarded boots.
In the end, the wolf disappears. Nobody else reports injuries, but officials urge anybody who might've been bitten or scratched to seek medical attention immediately. The mauling victim—just one of many garden-variety scum that hangs 'round these kinda places—dies before he makes it to a hospital. But given where the moon was that night, anybody who pays attention to that sort of shit knows that, in this case? Death is probably a kindness.
Elsewhere in town, one of the trailers out in the woods is empty before the full moon. It remains so even after the pack returns, and stays like that for the next day. And the day after that. And the next. When nobody returns home, the dog stuck alone inside begins to howl.]
Officially, it's said the animal must've slipped in through the back door of the bar, likely in search of food. But it's the unofficial accounts that tell something stranger. Cleaning up the next day, one of the girls finds a leather jacket in a stall of the women's bathrooms (and 'cause it's that part of town, any phone or identifying items in the pockets are long since cleaned out by some enterprising soul). Admittedly, a lost jacket is not at all odd on its own—but the shredded clothing all over the floor definitely is, next to a pair of carefully discarded boots.
In the end, the wolf disappears. Nobody else reports injuries, but officials urge anybody who might've been bitten or scratched to seek medical attention immediately. The mauling victim—just one of many garden-variety scum that hangs 'round these kinda places—dies before he makes it to a hospital. But given where the moon was that night, anybody who pays attention to that sort of shit knows that, in this case? Death is probably a kindness.
Elsewhere in town, one of the trailers out in the woods is empty before the full moon. It remains so even after the pack returns, and stays like that for the next day. And the day after that. And the next. When nobody returns home, the dog stuck alone inside begins to howl.]