Dissclaimer: All the characters are mine, the world is the property of White Wolf

Authors note:

This story is a sequel to The Boy and The Wolf and takes place six months later.

Also the perspective changes at points, the normal is Matt and italics is Jacky.

You don't need to have read The Boy and The Wolf but it might help.

Okay thats all enjoy.

Luna Woes

The moon - long has it been tied to the darkest myths and legends. The full moon hangs high above the nights of bloodshed, of suffering. Recently it has been linked to werewolves, man beasts; hunters of the night.

The humans got lucky on that one; werewolves are tied to the moon, but not just when it's full, all her faces affect those who first change under them. Those who change under the new moon are the silent hunters, the strikers from the shadows. The crescent moon illuminates the shamans, those who understand the mysteries of spirits. Then the half moon reveals the ones that walk half in shadow, half in light, they are the diplomats and the judges. When the moon is gibbous, swollen with thought the visionaries and thinkers come forth, revelling in their new found knowledge. Finally, on the nights of the full moon, the warriors appear. Dark are their first changes for now they can release the rage in their soul.

How do I know this? I changed under the full moon, finally discovering what I was born to be. A werewolf. What? you couldn't tell, I'm not surprised; I'm Matt, nothing to be scared of there, fifteen years old, average build, average height, average weight black hair. A face you would skip over in a crowd; only if you paused, looked into my eyes then you would see; see the soul of a predator, and it would be smiling.

I crouched high in a tree, nestled in the upper branches, wearing the form of the Urshul, a man sized wolf with monstrous jaws, wicked talons and hand sized paws. I was waiting for the moon rise and the nightly howl bringing the news from my pack, The Lost Mysteries, and the urshul was the only form of the werewolf that could stay in a tree and howl. Have you ever seen a wolf climb a tree, no, well they can't stay in them either?

The moon rose, a silvery crescent shining over the roof tops, and the howl went up bringing news of my pack mates, where they were, how they were, what they were doing and the disturbances in the territory. Nothing new, only Ed reporting on the borders and Lucy commenting on the spirit world. I joined in, telling them of what I had found that day; quick summary, nothing. For being a monster in human skin life could really drag sometimes.

The howl ended and somewhere a bell tolled. Nine o'clock. I'd best be getting home. Amazingly I still had school because it's the largest gathering of humans in the area so supposedly that's where most of the activity would be. Total rubbish, it was still the most boring place in our territory and I had to patrol it.

I pushed off from the tree, powerful hind legs throwing me far into space, there was a brief sensation of weightlessness then I fell, shifting quickly into Dalu, the primal human, to land rolling and swapping back to the wolf for the run home. While the life of the werewolf can be hard, dangerous and occasionally boring, the shape shifting more than makes up for it, being able to see the world through five different sets of eyes is indescribable, and growing jaws that can bit through a man's arm is worryingly fun.

I ran through the park sticking to the shadows, avoiding the humans on a late night strolls. Seeing a wolf running through the trees isn't nearly as scary as, say a nine foot tall monster with six inch claws, but people still seem to freak if they see one. They were easy to avoid, though I could smell them long before I could see them and see them long before they could see me. Even if they did see something, they would assume its was just a trick of the light or a shadow, that's more sensible than thinking you just saw something that can change into a wolf. That would just be silly. Yet that doesn't stop it being true.

The park was small and I soon got to the edge where it met the road that ensnared it. Unfortunately the road was well lit and if I tried to run across I probably would be spotted. I hung back in the shadows of the trees and changed back into a human. Suddenly I felt blinded as my senses shrunk down to human levels, it passed after a few seconds but it still felt like I was missing something just outside my hearing. I was crouching in the dirt under the trees, hands filthy. I stood up wiping my hands on my bound jeans, which basically means they change with me, and crossed the road, I could have got home faster as a wolf but it was safer as a human.

I reached my house a little while later and checked my watch 9:50. That was good. Recently my mother had imposed a ten o'clock curfew, and while my inner wolf balked at the idea of following the commands of a weak, pathetic human it understood the value of a bank of goodwill with my mother. I went inside the house, mumbled a greeting to her then went upstairs to my room.

A lot had changed in six months, especially me. When I went to the monthly werewolf meet with Ed and Lucy, I was told of a camp where they send cubs, new werewolves, to be trained in the basics. Well it was a way out of school and a chance to learn some really cool tricks, I couldn't wait; I told my mum that I was going to a learning centre for special people, 'true', and the school I had flu, 'false'. There I learnt about the history of werewolves, the five stable forms, received some gifts which are actually special powers and discovered a lot about the spirit world which is basically a warped reflection of our own that is inhabited by the spirits of animals and objects in this one. I also earned my werewolf name, 'Matt, the-youth-who-commands' which came from when I started ordering people around within five minutes of arriving; though I still use my own name most of the time. Whoever heard of someone introducing them self with a seven syllable name?

My room had also changed during my fortnight away. My mum had found a breathing mask and a skip and thrown the festering piles of, whatever, that littered my room away, much to the relief to everyone in the house, and the horror of the wolf who sulked for days complaining about the smells it hadn't investigated yet being gone. My punching bag was still there though, even if it looked like it had been savaged by a bear, which I guess was pretty close. Hanging from a hook cobbled onto the frame was my bound string of beads which, when I changed looked something like a dog collar.

I turned on the small TV that had been a present for getting an A for an essay; it was on wolves. There was an old horror movie on tonight, about a werewolf, typical. Pretty unrealistic, the werewolf was badly done, the howls were pathetic, just a load of gibberish. And any werewolf that lets himself get beaten up by a load of villagers deserves everything that's coming to him. The bit when he got shot with a silver bullet was scary though, I don't like to be reminded of my own weakness. I went to bed, the werewolf on TV was pathetic, but at least he was doing something, not just sitting around waiting for something to happen.

I ran through the forest, moving silently through the undergrowth, following a trail where some large creature had crashed through the forest. My pack mates ran alongside me with only a whisper to tell of their passing; then they reached the end of the trail, swarmed around the creature eager for the kill. It turned and looked straight at me.

It was me.