BiC:
Slay yawned softly, slowly uncurling from his damp position on the rocks beneath the dock. Seawater lapped gently at his paws, his belly, gently teasing his long fur. Memory seeped back - he had crept under the dock to wash up, to clean the mud from his pelt, but had then slipped into slumber as the tides ebbed away. Realization that his narcolepsy could have had him drowned sent a chill down his spine, and the arctic wolf sloshed on all fours through the shallow rockpool towards the sandy shores. It was twilight now, dusky and cool... How long had he been asleep? As he shook vigorously to free his sodden coat of its watery burden, he then saw how close he was to the long-legged female, her slender white form draped along the wooden dock, guitar close at hand. It was Mew!
Seeing the way Mew had mastered that voluptuous werewolf form had made him curious, ever since the day she had shared her musical expertise with him in the broken-down house by the vineyard. Slay had not yet attempted the transformation to two legs, although he had considered it more than once. He knew it was silly to still cling to that old teaching of his, since he had abandoned all other ties to his unpleasant childhood, and yet... He lacked the confidence to attempt such a maneuver on his own. He had no immediate need for hands - his jaws worked just as well for acts such as hunting, and he had no great love of human dwellings. But then... curiosity is curiosity. It rarely needs a reason.
Catching himself staring again, although it was more from honest curiosity than desire, Slay shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Hallo there dovely! How are you on this fine evening?" His black tail thumped on the sand as he grinned towards her, ice-pale eyes friendly. He could not glean what mood the musician was in, but he would soon find out.
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