A sweet, fierce joy rushes toward me, fills me with exhilaration and a hungry thirst to run.
I creep out and slide to a stop on the roof tiles.
Moon bathes me in a light of silver water.
Then, the change.
Loup-garou are not cursed.
We rule from the shadows of the suburbs for more than 5,000 years
forced to grovel like humans.
At night we are the predators
we are in charge
we can be free to live
to run
to feel anger and sorrow slip away like droplets of rain.