"a new face" by Connie Jay Mentira

Here is Paul, a good friend of mine. He was a normal kid, happy-go-lucky, good grades, decent friends, all that jazz. And he loved nature. Couldn't stay inside for more than an hour. He would wander the near by forests with his camera, snapping pictures of racoons, birds and the quiet deer. And, occasinally, his favorite animal, the gracefully deadly wolf.

One night, cuddled with his dog Jack, he heard a solomn howl in the distance, vibrating off the pines and startling the resting birds. He shrugged on his jacket and looped his camera around his neck, padding out into the woods, his curiosity piqued.

Deeper in the trees he wandered, leaves and moss chilling him from his feet to his neck. But he was used to it. Wait..

What was that noise? The fall of heavey paws, the rumbling thunder of a growl,...

He felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck, and the painful buzz of darkness over his eyes.

And here he is today! Now the pack leader of his small band of werewolves. And now he stares at another like him, a young pup looking for a place among others alike. What does he say?

"Hello!"

he's a werewolf, if that is unclear.