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I walked along the bank of the lake, stepping over hidden roots and the sand brought over from some coast of some country. I watched the moonlight, as its reflection beamed bright. I kept a close eye on my siblings.

Something had been off about me since birth, and whenever I asked to see my baby videos, mom said they were destroyed in the fire 12 years ago before we were forced to move and start again. My sisters had asked as well, but it made it more believable when I found out all of our tapes were destroyed, which made mom very sad. She still had saved one or two albums, a few pictures had been destroyed a little by the heat that nearly lit the adorable pictures aflame. Dad said that most of our family had died of the fire, and we were the lucky ones because we left to the lake. All of the stuff saved was in the back of the jeep when the fire started. I kind of wish they'd tell me what our family was like. The police had investigated mom, but we showed them evidence of our trip there, from all of the pictures we took the entire time with multiple cameras. All the way to my eldest sister taking a picture of the fire accidentally, but luckily. I hardly remember anything but flames licking near the forest by the house until the firefighters showed up and washed the flames away. We had all cried of our loss, nearly a hundred graves in two months, tons of funerals with the remaining part of our family.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a big wolf slowly walking up a hill. I could smell fresh deer blood. How did I know what type? I've hunted a deer before with a bow and arrow. All buck, because fawns and the little ones were illegal to kill. The scent was unrecognizable. I've hunted other animals before, so I can tell the difference of the scents.

The big wolf howled sadly and longingly at the moon, as if it's mate hasn't been found or had died. By the way, if you were wondering, I am fifteen, and my birthday is in July. It's June. My name is Chelsea Lebanon. I love werewolf stories. I love animals, even though I hunt them. I'm strong-willed yet very caring towards weak creatures or tiny ones, because who wants to stand idly by and see someone or something get hurt by someone or something bigger, stronger, or meaner? Not me, for sure. I once accidentally crushed a mouse's skull, and watched it slowly and painfully die. I cried for days. (This legitimately happened. Made me try digging it back up. Couldn't find the body afterwards. T•T)

I saw something I thought I was dreaming up - the wolf shifted into a human. A male, nude human. I began hyperventilating. Was I dreaming? Was he seriously naked?! IS HE A FREAKING SEXY WEREWOLF THAT ACTUALLY EXISTS?!