January 12, 1946 - Dresden

     Werewolves and vampires are not commonly friends. In fact, I do not know of any other than me and Tara. So I understand that people do not accept our camaraderie but a ban, honestly? Not only is that ridiculously childish of her husband but I will not have it. Ever since he returned from the war last week, I have been ready to kill him with every mention of his name. I can only imagine how good it would feel to have his blood on my skin, to see his body, cold and pale. It’s enough to make me close my eyes, lost in the pleasure his death would bring me.

     I smell Tara before I hear her steps drawing near. Leaning away from the tree, I can see that she came alone but that isn’t why I smile. She runs to me and jumps into my arms. Holding her tight, I feel the warmth of her body through my shirt. I admit I am surprised that she listened to me and sneaked out but I am so glad she did. When she looks into my eyes, I see a loyalty there that only a wolf can offer and it makes me nervous. The pressure is on me now to not screw this up like everything else.