Fur vs Skin | on hold

1.

↠C h a p t e r O n e↞
THE END

❝There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.❞

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Haven't you wondered why wolves howled at the moon? Maybe they are calling out to the souls they've lost? or a call to connect to others who are far beyond sight?

Personally, I believe wolves view the moon as a guide, something to escort them through the night and keep them safe from the unthinkable things that lurk to take their place among the shadows. Though they may be predators themselves, every beast has its weakness. The sudden sharp shrill of the bell jerks me from my thoughts, I blink rapidly, peering down at my notebook; somehow while lost in my own head, I was able to draw a small howling wolf at the top corner of my paper.

"Class dismissed," the professor's voice projected throughout the room, "I expect your essays by tomorrow or on Monday if you don't have me then," he called out to those walking out of the class.

Everyone hustled towards the door, cramming to get out and enjoy their weekend off from University. I don't blame them. Sighing, I stand up from my desk and collect my things, placing them all in my backpack in a series of motions. Slinging the strap over my shoulder, I push in my chair and make my way out of the door.

"Ms. Johnson?"

So close. I think to myself, as I turn on my heels, and face my processor.

"Sir?"

He tilts his head to the side while crossing his arms, his crisp shirt wrinkling with the movement. "Did you catch anything I said while I was teaching?" he asks, raising a brow.

I run my fingers up and down the length of my bag strap, tonguing my cheek. "No, sir," I reply.

He hums, gazing at me from the tips of his glasses. "I see. Well, it seems I need to remind you, again, not to daydream or wander off into oblivion while I'm teaching or Ms. Johnson you won't ever pass my class."

"I understand," I whisper, gripping the strap of my bag a little tighter than necessary.

"Good. You're dismissed," he says with a wave of his hand, dropping it to the edge of his desk.

Gritting my teeth from speaking out of term, I quickly left the room, slamming the door behind me. The university's halls were big and wide, and enough space for all students to pass by with no trouble of bumping and colliding with each other. There weren't many students lingering out by the time I did walk out of the classroom, everyone eager enough to get to their classes on time, luckily this was my last class for today and I was home free.

The heel of my boots thumped along the hardwood flooring as I stride down the hall toward the double door entrance; through the glass planes I could see outside as the ground was blanketed in thick snow. Slipping my scarf from around my waist, I wrap the clothing around my neck to protect myself from the cold.

Washington's cold air blasted me in the face the minute I stepped out. I could already see my breath clouding in front of my face as I strolled down the frozen path that leads to the student parking lot. I huddled myself further into my coat and crossed my arms to keep the heat from escaping as the frigid air nips at my nose and ears. My beat-up car comes into view and I quicken my pace ready to get out of the chilling air.

I dig into my pockets for my keys, unlocking the door manually when I notice a flicker of white fluttering amongst my windshield, frowning I lean across and grab the piece of paper tucked under the windshield whipper.