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Kampala often wished that she had been born a human during their golden age. They seemed to have been a powerful force to be reckoned with, and she felt that she would have fit in there. As a Luperci, however, she was stuck being somewhere halfway between a wolf and a human. Of course, she leaned closer to her human half, preferring the dexterity that her opposable thumbs gave her as well as the knowledge that she could gather through reading books. She was unsure whether non-Luperci were able to read, but they certainly would not be able to write without being able to hold a pen, pencil, or quill.
“The city, silly,” she replied, “It’s so different than the wilderness.” And indeed it was different. But differences were what made things beautiful (or ugly, depending on your view), and without differences, everything would be very bland and boring. Kam refused to believe that the city was built with ugliness in mind, and she enjoyed the way the structures were designed. Even though they were crumbling left and right, even that held merit for being beautiful. She felt that even decaying things were beautiful in their own right. One simply had to look hard enough to realize the beauty.