"This is a new development," she muttered, her humor spoiling all dramatic tension the moment could achieve – on purpose.

"Oh. That is so funny, Barahbarah," the narrow, exhausted voice said.

She was suddenly scared for how serious he sounded.

"What would you do without me?"

Illustration from Surrealizations

"I just have to show you some of my… capabilities."

She was scared, but also excited. She wondered if she should even jokingly ask if werewolves need to eat people.

"No, I wouldn't eat you–"

"You're telepathic?!"

"I can eat anyone in the whole town – I wouldn't pick you…"

"Phoooo. Golleeeey. Ah, thanks," Barbara said, trying to sound chipper.

Walt was standing three or four inches from her right side, a little moonlight shining off what Barbara could guess was the honey-color fur on his forehead and his usually Slavic, vampiric… ah, was she thinking this? …cheeks.

"Can you shave?" She smiled a little, terrified inside.

"It only lasts a few hours, but if you mean you have a hot date in mind…"

"How often do you? I'd let you do the talking…Uh, your capabilities."

The werewolf gave her bicep a little punch with his fist. Her skin, under the cashmere sweater, itched.

Walt took in a deep breath and it sounded like he was wheezing. Then he sent out this food for thought–

"Barbara, I know I haven't told you this, but you're the only friend I have, so if I eat everyone else in town, I'll tell you about it, but I won't eat you."

Barbara felt the urge to flop on the ground.

"I haven't eaten anyone yet… but I feel the need to…"

Barbara tried to review the situation in her mind.

"You really won't eat me?"

"I promise," he said as his silky hands reached under the sweater to undo the clasp of her bra.

Oh, this is so exciting, she thought to herself as the hair on his hands massaged the goose-bumping skin of her back.

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