Thursday, September 5, 2013


It was dark in the caves and damp and cool... a perfect retreat from the deep, thick, bayou heat. The lupine troop, obviously quite familiar with the place took their ease amid the flotsam and jetsam of human society. Some lounged on cushions. Not bed cushions... Old sofa cushions. A few played dominoes or backgammon. The young ones fished for crustaceans in a tiny rivulet racing along a back wall. Soft, yellow candles, more like sloppy mounds of wax with sputtering wicks, gave a fitful light. Shimmy Kate demurely sat down near the females. The leader saw and smiled. She noticed, but pretended not to.

Like Rip Van Winkle among the fairie folk she was. Or perhaps a Tuscan beauty snatched for the seraglio. 

Now let me pepper the tale with a more contemporary reference. Are any of our best beloveds familiar with The Thunder Cats, nineteen eighties human-feline symbiotic beings and heroes too? Well, these intelligent mammals are similar, only somewhat canine instead of feline. I don't know if they're heroes. Maybe some are. Handsome beasts and quite intriguing, but trapped in the midlands of werewolfdom.... never wholly one or the other like their 'betters,' nor completely ravenous and feral, as are some clans. They cannot hide. What they are is always apparent. And for that they are shunned. True werewolves... true shape-shifters kill them. Some languish in rich men's menageries, between rare specimens of mer-folk and mothmen.

They who came from the stars enjoy the competition. They watch and they study and they learn. Humans make such good toys. 

But the Lupiniere ( our wolfen band) have plans of their own. At least the leader, the alpha male, does. He has a theory. He wants to fix things. Lady blood... human blood will do it, in his mind anyway. And Shimmy Kate is absolutely filled with lady blood. So he slides off his throne (actually a rather ornate belle epoque dentist's chair from the Garden District) and moves in close to tantalize her. 

His females notice. They've done this before. There were other girls at other times stolen from other places. But none of them conceived. Try and try again. What else can he do. So they pin her down. One grabs her arms. One grabs a leg. A beta male moves in to grab the other. The young ones continue trolling for crawfish. Grown-up games mean little to them, though one or two do look over and giggle.

And Shimmy Kate becomes a 'handmaiden' given to another Abraham in the hope of healthy offspring.

She screamed at first. But then she stopped and made another noise...
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