Read Online Wolf Watch (The Madison Wolves Book 8) by Robin Roseau - Free Book Online
Authors: Robin Roseau
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and far less water to sustain me than your hamburger requires to sustain you. My choices aren't perfect, but they are better than yours."
"Oh? And when I eat fish from the lake or venison hunted on the property?"
"Those choices are both better than eating a hunk of beef," she replied. "Although they are not sustainable for the global population."
"That's another overpopulation problem," I said.
We went back and forth for a while. Then I picked up a piece of the spicy tuna roll, holding it in front of me. "Does it bother you to watch me pop this into my mouth?"
"Would I prefer that you joined me in a vegan lifestyle?" she asked. "Yes, I would. But I wouldn't go so far as to say it bothers me. What bothers me is the level of ignorance people have about the food they eat. I seek to educate, not dictate."
I nodded and popped the tuna into my mouth.
The reality was that while perhaps humans could live on a vegan lifestyle, I could not. Even hunting was a necessity for a werewolf's mental well-being. A vegan wolf would go mad if he didn't die from malnutrition first. But I wasn't going to argue that position with her. I wasn't quite ready to come out to her, after all.
We finished our respective meals and packed everything up. Zoe smiled then lay down on her back, staring up at the sky. "That was very thoughtful, Elisabeth. Thank you."
"You're welcome." I plopped down next to her, then slowly reached out a hand to clasp hers. We hadn't touched for the last forty-five minutes, but I wanted to see if she was feeling calmer.
I could still smell the fear wafting off of her, and I wouldn't want to be amorous with her unless I could erase or cover the scent with something else. I have known of werewolves who find the fear scent intoxicating, but I have never been one of those. It makes me deeply protective but not at all amorous.
"I'm sorry about earlier," she said. "You don't need to worry that I'm going to freak out again."
"It's all right," I said. "It is the night of the full moon, and I did admit I've been known to howl under it. Perhaps you're worried I'm going to sprout fangs and become some sort of slavering beast."
"Are you?"
I laughed. "No."
"Then I'm safe, as you've repeatedly said."
"Ready for some exercise?"
"Are you a really bad throw with a Frisbee, and you're going to make me run all over for it?"
"I am a very good throw with a Frisbee, or of anything else I choose to throw, and if you find yourself running all over for it, I assure you it is entirely intentional. I will, of course, be watching you the entire time."
She laughed. "Well, I am a horrible throw, and if you find yourself running all over, it's your own fault for bringing a Frisbee instead of a deck of cards."
I climbed to my feet, pulling her up after me. I grabbed the Frisbee then walked a short distance away and tossed it to her.
She dropped it.
We threw the disk around for a half hour. It was, well, painful. Finally I said, "You know, you're not just bad. You're downright dreadful."
"Oh, way to boost my ego," she replied. "I did warn you."
"You must have the hand-eye coordination of a... um..."
"Of a what?"
"I can't think of anything with particularly poor coordination," I admitted with a laugh.
"Perhaps a one-eyed hippopotamus," she suggested.
"Yes, exactly. If hippos had hands and a means of demonstrating their lack of coordination."
"That's me," Zoe said. "The one-eyed hippo." She cocked her head. "It's not a very flattering image."
"You have other skills than Frisbee," I pointed out. I moved closer to her, tossing the Frisbee lightly. She managed to catch it, barely. I had to lunge for her return throw.
Dusk was settling, and the full moon was peeking over the treetops to the east. Zoe had stopped exuding fear scent some time ago, but it lingered about her, now mixed with other scents brought on by physical activity. They were deep, wholesome scents. I threw the Frisbee to the blanket then eyed Zoe.
"Oh, oh," she said.
"Oh? And when I eat fish from the lake or venison hunted on the property?"
"Those choices are both better than eating a hunk of beef," she replied. "Although they are not sustainable for the global population."
"That's another overpopulation problem," I said.
We went back and forth for a while. Then I picked up a piece of the spicy tuna roll, holding it in front of me. "Does it bother you to watch me pop this into my mouth?"
"Would I prefer that you joined me in a vegan lifestyle?" she asked. "Yes, I would. But I wouldn't go so far as to say it bothers me. What bothers me is the level of ignorance people have about the food they eat. I seek to educate, not dictate."
I nodded and popped the tuna into my mouth.
The reality was that while perhaps humans could live on a vegan lifestyle, I could not. Even hunting was a necessity for a werewolf's mental well-being. A vegan wolf would go mad if he didn't die from malnutrition first. But I wasn't going to argue that position with her. I wasn't quite ready to come out to her, after all.
We finished our respective meals and packed everything up. Zoe smiled then lay down on her back, staring up at the sky. "That was very thoughtful, Elisabeth. Thank you."
"You're welcome." I plopped down next to her, then slowly reached out a hand to clasp hers. We hadn't touched for the last forty-five minutes, but I wanted to see if she was feeling calmer.
I could still smell the fear wafting off of her, and I wouldn't want to be amorous with her unless I could erase or cover the scent with something else. I have known of werewolves who find the fear scent intoxicating, but I have never been one of those. It makes me deeply protective but not at all amorous.
"I'm sorry about earlier," she said. "You don't need to worry that I'm going to freak out again."
"It's all right," I said. "It is the night of the full moon, and I did admit I've been known to howl under it. Perhaps you're worried I'm going to sprout fangs and become some sort of slavering beast."
"Are you?"
I laughed. "No."
"Then I'm safe, as you've repeatedly said."
"Ready for some exercise?"
"Are you a really bad throw with a Frisbee, and you're going to make me run all over for it?"
"I am a very good throw with a Frisbee, or of anything else I choose to throw, and if you find yourself running all over for it, I assure you it is entirely intentional. I will, of course, be watching you the entire time."
She laughed. "Well, I am a horrible throw, and if you find yourself running all over, it's your own fault for bringing a Frisbee instead of a deck of cards."
I climbed to my feet, pulling her up after me. I grabbed the Frisbee then walked a short distance away and tossed it to her.
She dropped it.
We threw the disk around for a half hour. It was, well, painful. Finally I said, "You know, you're not just bad. You're downright dreadful."
"Oh, way to boost my ego," she replied. "I did warn you."
"You must have the hand-eye coordination of a... um..."
"Of a what?"
"I can't think of anything with particularly poor coordination," I admitted with a laugh.
"Perhaps a one-eyed hippopotamus," she suggested.
"Yes, exactly. If hippos had hands and a means of demonstrating their lack of coordination."
"That's me," Zoe said. "The one-eyed hippo." She cocked her head. "It's not a very flattering image."
"You have other skills than Frisbee," I pointed out. I moved closer to her, tossing the Frisbee lightly. She managed to catch it, barely. I had to lunge for her return throw.
Dusk was settling, and the full moon was peeking over the treetops to the east. Zoe had stopped exuding fear scent some time ago, but it lingered about her, now mixed with other scents brought on by physical activity. They were deep, wholesome scents. I threw the Frisbee to the blanket then eyed Zoe.
"Oh, oh," she said.
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