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It was the first time we fought in front of her. I mean we fought a lot but I guess it was never in front of her. She was so scared. I guess, we made a mistake, but we were losing control. Those voices in our heads was taunting us, seducing us with the sweet, sweet promise of blood and pain. Living among humans and trying not to kill them was a hard thing to do.

We didn’t live by human terms. We didn’t care one ounce about the humans around us. But she did. She lived as a human. She was tame and controllable. She could go months on end with no problem. She fitted in. She was what we wanted to be and didn’t want all at the same time. Where we were trying to deal with the pain of the life around us, she was accepted as her own being.

Sure we we’re all half breeds, mutts in our own right, but she was different a breed of mutt. She was one that had both humans and her kind around her. One that could make you smile and make you feel at home. Where we only had our pack, she had the outsiders too. Where it was me, my fighting partner and her, she had us and humans.

I could watch her in jealousy and apathy. I wanted to be her, to fit in like her, to taste the only taste that could be described as acceptance, but at the same time I was unwilling to give up this peace I only got with being socially unequipped. I loved the little freedom and stress less days of lazing about because I had no where I had to be. However, watching her interact with her human friends, laughing so freely… I want that too.