Calvin- School Paper

   From the corner of the tavern he watched everyone inconspicuously. People avoided the man's shady figure; he had an air about him, reflecting furtive thoughts that he couldn't hide. The young man swept away his rugged hair, which fell back over his slit pupils and brown irises. Most of his face was covered in a veil of shadow cast by his tattered brown cloak. What could be seen of his thin face formed a grimace, revealing a row of flashy, pointed teeth. Being around humans was enough to make him sick. Suddenly he rose with supernatural grace and stalked out of the dreary tavern into a slowly darkening fog. He did not hate humans, in fact, he felt quite the opposite. Leaving them was the only way he knew how to protect them. How he felt and what he had become should have made humans seem no more than prey. Having been one though made him try to go against his new instincts. Not long ago he had been transformed into a walking disease and one of humanity's greatest fears. As the cloaked figure glided forward on the cold cobblestones, his attention snapped up toward an ocean of trees. The bony limbs of the trees hid a lot more than a human could see. "Werewolves…" the young man hissed to himself. His voice sounded hoarse and bitter.
   His memories flashed to a massive white wolf, with menace in her beautiful, piercing eyes. She had been the one that bit him. She was the reason he lived as a recluse. Her motives were clear to the young man when he first opened his new, starving eyes. "Calvin," she had laughed, he winced at the name, a name that was a part of him that he believed he'd lost when he had been born again as one of them. "Do try to be reasonable." Her words were like poison. He was strong and clever, qualities that she respected in a human, which was why she created him. She wanted him to join her family, her pack of beasts. Calvin had escaped her, and was now on the run. Yielding to her was not an option; he did not want to become a monster. But he could not run from her forever. The young man ducked down an alley and disappeared. The wolves in the foreboding woods lost interest, and crept away.
   As Calvin recounted his bitter memories, a glimmer of hope ebbed into his mind. Although not at all wanting what he believed would be another regrettable thought, he reluctantly allowed himself to think clearly on it. His demeanor quickly turned to shock. "I can't possibly be the only one in this situation" he breathed. Rain began to speckle the ground as his new idea began to take shape. Flashing out of the alley and back onto the wet street, heading to the opposite forest, Calvin was now being driven by hope. A gale of wind flung the hood of his cloak off of his unnaturally lean but stunning face, adorned by several small scars. His predator eyes flashed to either direction, seeing no one paying attention to him he leaped into the air, and in one bound landed safely into the ominous forest he was headed for. A deafening roar ripped through the sky and, where the young man had landed, a sandy-red furred wolf rose up onto its hind legs.
Weeks passed by, but not without success. He found several other rebels, many of whom joined him, despite some initial unwillingness. Finding werewolves was difficult though, especially the ones that make a point of not being found. New members were hardly overjoyed, often thinking that it must have fallen for some trick. Eventually their attitudes toward the situation eased and the rebels found that they were enjoying themselves. Trust formed in the otherwise instinctually suspicious group. Their numbers were still modest, but with each week it grew. Calvin became an experienced leader, and although his original goal was only offering a place for others like himself, he began to have higher hopes. For now though, life was taking a turn for the better, and he didn't want to make any brash actions that would cause him and his well-intentioned family to have enemies.