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the story's all over you
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Danny tilted his head to the side, studying Opal studying him. She looked funny, squinting like that. It was dark, though, and he forgot that people couldn't see as well as wolves did in the dim light of the woods. She may have had a light from her camera, but it was sharp and fell off quickly; it was nothing in comparison to streetlights, and especially sunlight. <br><br>He reached up and scratched behind one of his Wolf-ears with one hand and shook his head--no, he was not Henry. He knew that, duh. Why was she telling him that? Then she asked if he was a werewolf. He'd heard that before, from Emmy, when they first met after he collided with her on Halloween night. She asked him the same thing. He hadn't know what a werewolf was then, but eventually she explained it to him. He didn't know it literally translated to "man wolf," which would certainly be appropriate to describe him, in so much as he could be classified as a man, technically anyway, but the cultural mythologies she told him about werewolves didn't seem to fit. He could change from person to wolf anytime he wanted, not just on the full moon, and he didn't bite people, and even if he did that wouldn't make them change into Wolves too. You had to be born a Wolf. That was the only way you could be one.<br><br>He shook his head no, then stopped, opened his mouth and paused before saying <b>"Sort of?"</b> cause really, he was still kind of confused by it all. They didn't call themselves werewolves. They were just Wolves. At least he wasn't interpreting it as "where, wolf?" again, though. That was something, right?<BR><BR>When she asked what he was eating, he looked down at the melon still in his hand. He almost forgot about it. It was getting close to the rind, the pulp mostly sucked and chomped up between his teeth. When she continued, guessing, suggesting that it was something like brains or babies, he made a confused and kind of grossed-out look. What? He wouldn't--<i>what?</i> By no means was he a vegetarian, but he wouldn't eat a baby anything and brains weren't stuff he liked. He ate them before when winter was really bad or he got home too late to get any good food from his parents' hunt, but he--<i>what?</i> He was really so baffled by those ideas.<br><br><b>"It's cantaloupe, "</b> he told her, as if she should have known that, obviously, not knowing how disappointing that would be for her to hear.