A bleating sound jerked me from a fitful sleep. I bolted upright, heart racing and black fur bristling.
Cotton sheets and a lumpy mattress. The hum of an 'air conditioner' I remember finding so fascinating for a few minutes, before I fell asleep.
Right. The motel. So much for my grand declarations of adaptability and resilience.
I groaned and rubbed at my face… while returning back to fully human form. With the door locked secure last night, I'd stripped down to nothing for comfort - luckily I did not just stretch or tear a set of my only undergarments in my panic.
Just a bit, I understand why the Duskpaw forewent those sorts of clothes. But this is the city and - for the most part - I should be safe enough not to have to worry about needing the werewolf forms.
Smooth palms pressed onto my closed eyes, with hands that still smelled faintly of 'complimentary' soap… according to the little card I'd read last night. A scent from after I used the toilet in the bathroom here.
