I looked at the bloody scrapes and made a face. Saturday night traffic on Olive was always fun. Micah nodded. It was a good idea, since the first few moons could turn into a killing spree, unless you had other shapeshifters to watch over you.
The struggles of the animal had excited me, made the kill all the sweeter. You could taste fall on your tongue like some kind of bread or cake, something thick and nutty and sweet. You didn't shoot someone begging for their life, not if you were a good guy. I had to go on tiptoe to get the angle I wanted for the smooth expanse of his neck.
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