The picture below came from : http://monsterbait.deviantart.com/art/Snow-Wolf-8030104
“It’s a slobbery day out there today folks. We can expect this mix of sleet and snow to continue through the morning hours and into the evening hours before clearing up just in time for the temperature to drop…”
Mooney tuned the radio out, still chuckling at the DJ’s analogy of sleet and snow mix being “slobbery.” It was perhaps not the cleverest bit of word-play but it amused him nonetheless. He had gleaned all he needed from the forecast, that this sloppy—slobbery—mess he was driving through was not going to go away any time soon. He should be back in Talbot’s Peak before sun-down, though, so at least he wouldn’t still be on the road when the slobber froze.
Werewolves have a slightly skewed sense of humor, a necessary adaptation to being an open secret in a society that pretended very hard that non-humans weren’t real. They were real, all right. They just weren’t plentiful. Their best weapon was humanity’s willingness to look the other way very hard to avoid having to admit there were things that went bump in the night. Talbot’s Peak, MT was the wolves attempt to help them ignore the obvious.
The side effect of a town founded by bats and run by wolves was that every species of shifter out there that didn’t want to have to pretend to be human anymore had started flocking there. Mooney had no idea why this was working as well as it was and he didn’t care. He was no alpha. All he knew was that the town was growing which in turn meant his mate’s coffee shop, Mocha Joe’s, was growing which meant these trips up to Butte to pick up shipments of specialty roast coffee beans were becoming more and more frequent. This suited him just fine.
Mooney tuned the radio out, still chuckling at the DJ’s analogy of sleet and snow mix being “slobbery.” It was perhaps not the cleverest bit of word-play but it amused him nonetheless. He had gleaned all he needed from the forecast, that this sloppy—slobbery—mess he was driving through was not going to go away any time soon. He should be back in Talbot’s Peak before sun-down, though, so at least he wouldn’t still be on the road when the slobber froze.
Werewolves have a slightly skewed sense of humor, a necessary adaptation to being an open secret in a society that pretended very hard that non-humans weren’t real. They were real, all right. They just weren’t plentiful. Their best weapon was humanity’s willingness to look the other way very hard to avoid having to admit there were things that went bump in the night. Talbot’s Peak, MT was the wolves attempt to help them ignore the obvious.
The side effect of a town founded by bats and run by wolves was that every species of shifter out there that didn’t want to have to pretend to be human anymore had started flocking there. Mooney had no idea why this was working as well as it was and he didn’t care. He was no alpha. All he knew was that the town was growing which in turn meant his mate’s coffee shop, Mocha Joe’s, was growing which meant these trips up to Butte to pick up shipments of specialty roast coffee beans were becoming more and more frequent. This suited him just fine.
4 comments:
Ah, Mooney, you good devoted wolf you. How right you are about Talbot's Peak.
That is a werewolf-wonderful picture! Thanks to the artist.
Dang, it's good to see Mooney again. I didn't realize I missed him until I read this post.
Slobber? Ewww. Now that's what I'll be thinking of when I have to slog through it this winter. Thanks a lot.
THAT PIC!!!! Drooooool. Okay, I forgive you for the slobber.
What do you suppose Mooney gets up to there in Butte beside the shipment pick-up that he likes so much? Maybe it gives him time to do a little sweetheart shopping for his mate... ;)
Great pic!
"Slobber snow" was so named by my niece, Ria. There are many, many things dubbed slobber-something by Miss Ria, including slobber poop. (aka diarrhea) This bit of flash fiction was written on the heals of my conversation with Ria on how the slobber snow "killed" her snowman.
As to what Mooney does on his frequent trips, I don't know. I never got that far into this bit of flash fiction. The weather today in Denver is what called it to mind, though, which is how it got posted.
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