"Why?" she heard herself asking. She'd never before asked anyone why lycanthropy didn't bother them; usually she was berating them because it did and it shouldn't. Tracey was not ashamed of who or what she was, either part of her that someone might take issue with. However, she'd heard all her life from her father that not everyone would be as understanding. Certain members of his family had proved that; though no one had formally cut them out of their lives because of what had happened to their family, some of them had definitely stopped inviting Daniel and Tracey over, while others would whisper and stare. Tracey had two cousins she'd never met, and an aunt she couldn't remember ever speaking to her.
She knew it was wrong, and somehow, she still expected everyone to be that way. If her own family couldn't accept her and her tragic story, how could she expect anyone else to? That was why she wanted--no, needed--to know why Daphne didn't even seem to blink. Why she hadn't been able to accept her own homosexuality, but she could accept her ex-girlfriend's condition that was actually dangerous.
If they were going to have this conversation, however, Tracey was going to need another drink. A lot of them, since that same dangerous condition gave her a high tolerance to alcohol. So she ordered three more shots.