Werewolves.

Keith had never actually encountered werewolves before now. He'd heard the legends of course. How seemingly everyday men and women would transform into monstrous beasts during the night of a full moon.

These stories were enough to push a young Keith to find secure shelter in a church, stable, or barn on nights of full moons. A practice that wasn't easy on a would be orphan hitchhiker.

Keith had thought that his numerous run ins with monsters growing up had made him something of an unofficial expert. Of course then he'd met Allura and had that assumption turned on its head.

"Nice doggy." Keith held up both hands as the werewolf slunk, crouching, out from the forest line. "Nice BIG doggy."

He took a step back.

"Hold your ground Keith." Allura instructed, as she stood calmly just a few feet behind him. "You don't want to spook him."

"Oh right. I don't want to spook HIM."

"Don't you sass me." She scolded. "Frankly I don't see what your so scared of."

Keith glared at her.

"I'm sorry if I'm not as brave as the hundred year old vampire with magic blood powers."

"Even if I wasn't a 'hundred year old vampire with magic blood powers' I wouldn't be so chicken. I mean, it's just a werewolf."

"Just a-"

"Now take this." Allura took Keith's hand and placed something into it. "When he gets within a few feet of you, offer it to him. I'll go get the leash."

"Wait, what?!" He watched with great horror as Allura moved away. "You can't just-"

Keith cut his protest short as the werewolf suddenly darted forward, stopping just a few feet away from him.

Licking his lips, Keith closed his eyes and stuck out the thing in his hands.

There was the sound of the werewolf sniffing.

Then moving closer.

Then more sniffing.

Finally Keith felt a warm tongue lick his fingers and tug whatever it was out of his hand.

Peering his eyes open, Keith looked down to see the werewolf lying in the grass. Happily chewing on a doggy biscuit.

"There see that wasn't so bad now was it?"

Allura returned, a leather collar and length of chain in her hand which she carefully slipped around the werewolfs neck and secured as she patted its head.

"There now, who's a good boy? Whos a good boy?"

The wagging tail seemed to indicate that the werewolf thought, yes, he was a very good boy.

Keith stood and stared down in shock at the progression in front of him.

"Wha- I don't- But it's a werewolf!"

"Well yes, obviously. I mean you saw it transform just a few hours ago."

"Yeah but… Aren't werewolves supposed to be, y'know, vicious stalkers or the night of something?"

Allura gave Keith an odd look.

"No." she spoke matter of factly. "Not really. I mean, they are pests. Hunting sheep and some such, but otherwise they're just normal wolves."

"Normal wolves? But that's a man!"

"A man?" Allura stared at him before recognition crossed her features. "Ohhh, right. Humans have that silly story. No, see, they got it wrong."

"Got it… wrong?"

"Yes," she nodded with an amused smile. "You see, werewolves are humans who become wolves. They're wolves who become people."

"Wolves who… become… people…"

"Yes. Quite inconvenient for the poor things really. An old curse that god sadly out of hand. It managed to latch onto the first wolves genes and now there's a whole population of wolves who suddenly wake up in the morning with no fur, no tail, and having to walk to two legs. How they've managed to propagate is something of a modern mystery."

Keith listened with fascinated attention as he looked down at the animal who was now sitting on its haunches, tongue out, and tail wagging like an attentive house pet.

"So," he managed. "What are we gonna do with it?"

"Well," Allura hummed. "Likely we'll take it over the mountain and release it back into the wild. That way it wont eat anymore of the villagers chickens."

"But… they wanted it's pelt."

"Oh yes." She sighed. "They almost always ask for something like that. We keep a wolf's pelt in the trunk on the wagon. Throwing that out, usually satisfies them. The real trouble is when they ask for a live werewolf. At that point we have to scratch ourselves up, and present the pelt as though we had just gone through some terrible battle where we could only return alive if we killed and skinned the poor thing."

As they loaded the animal onto the wagon, its head sticking out the window excitedly, Keith could just barely hear Allura mutter.

"Really, some humans can be such beasts sometimes."