“To conquering!” Zoey climbs up on her own rock, arms held high.

“To conquering!” Juliet thrusts her beer up, then chugs the whole of it down in an impressive display.

I let the shadows of the trees envelop me, shaking my head and chuckling all the while.

“They’re ridiculous.” It’s the first thing Roderick says since we followed the women’s trail.

“They’re drunk.” I shrug.

“It’s not safe,” he mutters.

“Well, yeah. That’s why I’m not actually leaving.”

Roderick raises one eyebrow at me, but then lets me lead the way again. I move deeper into the woods. When the sound of the girls’ laughter has almost faded, I pause by a tree with low, thick limbs. There, I strip off my clothes, folding them neatly before setting them up in the tree. I hope no curious critters decide to claim them. I’d have a hard time explaining to highway patrol why I’m riding my bike home naked.

Make for a good story though.

Once I’m completely bare, I coax my wolf forward, letting the form envelop my body. The change is slower. If my wolf sensed danger or responded to the call of the full moon, then I’d be able to switch to four legs in a matter of seconds. But pulling the change out without the aid of adrenaline or lunar magic means I’m struggling for a minute or two, grimacing at the pain of my bones snapping and reshaping.

Eventually, I’m in my wolf form, panting and shaking off the last lingering bit of discomfort. When I turn back toward the campsite, I see Roderick’s wolf sitting calmly, waiting for me.

Another perk of being the pack leader: more magic means a faster change.

I huff at him as I pass by.

Soon, I’m staring out at the crackling fire and cackling women, my gray coat camouflaging me. Roderick settles at my side, his black coat just as good for spying.

Protecting, I correct myself.

“I think it’s time,” Zoey announces.

Time for what? I wonder.

“I knew it. That fourth beer was the turning point, huh?” Juliet says.

Roderick shifts beside me, probably also wondering what this is a preamble to.

“It was. Okay. I’m ready. This is happening.” Zoey strolls toward the woods, and my protective nature stirs.

“Good luck,” the librarian offers.

Zoey raises a fist in the air before declaring, “I’m going to pee outside! This is a special event!”

“Yeah, I’ll mark it down in the history books,” Juliet calls after her, chuckling as she sinks back into her camping chair.

Zoey passes by our hiding spot, not even ten feet separating us. But we’re hunters. We know how to hide well.

“I’m going to pee. Pee on a tree,” Zoey sings to herself.