Full (Lunar) Reprieve...
He couldn't figure out why it hadn't started yet.
Tonight was, according to his internal clock, the full moon.
And it was dark now. The time when the change is supposed to take place...
And
nothing
was
happening.
It made no sense.
Until he looked up.
Thanks to it being winter here in Milliways, the trees were bare, making it easy to spot it through the latticework of leafless branches.
Or rather, to not see it.
Half the moon seemed to be gone.
A full moon and half of it gone.
Now everything made sense.
An eclipse.
Of course.
But he'd never thought it would affect him. He'd figured that an eclipse would be treated by the werewolf's body the same way all full moons are treated, and the change would begin as it always does.
Then again, just how much was written about werewolves in general in his world? And how much of that from their point-of-view?
And how much of that did he read?
He was ashamed to admit that, for someone with a vested interest in lunar activity, he was severely illiterate.
Once this was over he'd begin research in earnest. Maybe even journal his observations. Write a book. An anonymous book. He did not want anyone to know who'd penned it.
Tonight though, he'd enjoy something werewolves get too few of.
A reprieve.
Tonight was, according to his internal clock, the full moon.
And it was dark now. The time when the change is supposed to take place...
And
nothing
was
happening.
It made no sense.
Until he looked up.
Thanks to it being winter here in Milliways, the trees were bare, making it easy to spot it through the latticework of leafless branches.
Or rather, to not see it.
Half the moon seemed to be gone.
A full moon and half of it gone.
Now everything made sense.
An eclipse.
Of course.
But he'd never thought it would affect him. He'd figured that an eclipse would be treated by the werewolf's body the same way all full moons are treated, and the change would begin as it always does.
Then again, just how much was written about werewolves in general in his world? And how much of that from their point-of-view?
And how much of that did he read?
He was ashamed to admit that, for someone with a vested interest in lunar activity, he was severely illiterate.
Once this was over he'd begin research in earnest. Maybe even journal his observations. Write a book. An anonymous book. He did not want anyone to know who'd penned it.
Tonight though, he'd enjoy something werewolves get too few of.
A reprieve.