Werewolves have a keener sense of smell than dogs and can usually find a worm in a log if they’re looking for it. Dr. Thurston and Thomas felt as vulnerable as night crawlers. Soon they came across a beaver dam and made a dive to enter the amphibious lair. Upon entry, they encountered a large beaver. Dr. Thurston reached for his loaded crossbow and nailed the sharp toothed animal to the wall. “I can’t blame it for trying,” whispered the doctor. Thomas nodded and signaled they should be quiet.

            “I can hear wolves milling about. They have our scent. Quick, load the weapon. We’ll need two syringes to stop both predators.” Dr. Thurston quickly measured the Wolfsbane. An imprecise quantity could render the mixture useless.

As he finished the second arrow a wolf rose from the water. Without thinking, Thomas speared it. Wiliver twitched and convulsed, sinking beneath the surface. Thomas dragged the mannish beast from the murky depths. A second wolf reared its face. Again, the doctor fired, shooting Berta in the cranium. The needle went through her skull and firmly lodged in her brain. She immediately transformed. 

“The recent past is like a nightmare and the dream is real. Once the beast takes over, there’s no will to stop the monster within.” Berta was visibly sick. She swallowed too much pond scum and her head was woozy after shrinking to half its size, not counting an arrow being removed from her skull. “I hope it’s alright with you fellows if I sit here and rest a bit?”

They gave each other knowing glances, trying to help her to her feet. It was difficult in a confined space.

“I’m afraid Teddy’s in trouble.”