Ernest sprang, making sure to keep all of his papers in one place.

"Fuck!" he muttered between gritted teeth. Indeed, the boy was already late for class, and it wasn't like his Science classroom was exactly close from the main hallway. Just as the door to the dreaded classroom (for Ernest hated the Science teacher just as much as she despised him) was in sight, he realized that he had forgotten his science notebook.

Thinking about just how much he hated his life, he promptly ran back to the hallway, where the locker rooms holding in his precious notebook were located. The teen had to halt midway though, for one of the papers he was carrying had just slipped, barely escaping the grasp of his other hand, before delicately making its way to the floor, as if it were mocking him; cursing in a low voice, Ernest bent over...before being tripped to the floor and falling face first on the cold pavement. He hastily got up without even glancing back at whoever it was that had done the deed. From the corner of his eye, he recognized a bunch of guys who regularly played pranks and bullied him during their free time; despite the fact that he didn't even know their name, they apparently thought it to be quite amusing. The other students joined in their mocking cackles as Ernest resumed his race against time.

Despite wondering why he even bothered trying to get to class on time, he kept on running, barely looking where he was going...until he crashed into someone.

"Sorry I didn't—" the words died in his throat as he realized who it was he had bumped into. How many students were there in his school? Eight hundred? One thousand? And yet...

"Ernest!"

...he had to run into Ben. The blond had leaned over and regularly went from focusing on the notebooks and papers he was picking up, to glancing back at Ernest. That casual, tranquil air of his didn't waver, and neither did his kind smile.

"Feeling better?" He inquired. Ernest, in the meantime, was frozen with shock, his gaze locked on the boy before him. His heart was pounding, and he vaguely wondered if his expression reflected how mortified he felt at the moment. As if he hadn't made a fool of himself sufficiently two weeks ago, he simply had to make it even worse by bumping into Ben Hetchsen.

"Sorry for running into you. Here, let me pick that up—" the blond started, but Ernest didn't let him finish. Finally snapping out of his trance, the timid boy hastily snatched all of the papers on the floor before making a run for it, not looking back. Ernest did his best to ignore how fast his heart was beating, how dizzy and startled he felt; but most of all, the boy begged with all of his heart that Ben would quickly forget about the incident, and him altogether for that matter. He only paused once he had safely ducked behind a wall, taking advantage of the time to catch his breath. The ring of the bell striped him from his daydreaming, raping him viciously back to reality. He knew that he had been late quite a lot recently, and in his school, that meant he was up for a detention. Not even bothering anymore, he instead chose to walk to his classroom, wondering how his day could possibly get any worse.

--

Unfortunately, Murphy's Law proved just how tenacious it could be. As expected, Ernest had gotten a detention for showing up so late to class. The teacher then handed him back his test, and he saw with no surprised that he had failed it (Physics and he had never been great friends, as it turned out). The unbearable day dragged on, with people throwing bits of erasers and balls of paper at him; but that wasn't so bad: after all, he was used to it.

When all of his classes were finally over, he rushed to his locker, hoping to quickly get the textbooks needed to do his homework, then go home: instead, he found that someone had covered it in injurious remarks with a black marker, and that the lock was nowhere to be found.

"No...oh fuck no, not this..." he thought, eyes widening in dismay before closing in acceptance. Unfortunately he already knew the answer. His locker was now completely empty. The teen glanced from right to left, checking to see if the perpetrator might still be around, if not just to see how much his victim had been affected by the farce. Unfortunately, there was no one to be seen. Ernest checked inside the trash bin, and in the immediate surroundings of the hallway, but none of his notebooks or papers could be found. To make matters worse, there was his six-paged Psychology essay among all of his other lost belongings.

For a second, discouragement rushed over him. His shoulders slouched, his gaze made its way to the dirty-yellow pavement, and he wondered how he event went through it all, and why he even bothered. Not for the first time, the thought of suicide flashed through his mind, with his limp body hanging from a cord. Or perhaps drowning would be a better way to end it all.

The familiar string of tears could be felt, although these were mainly of frustration. What did these people gain from this? He just didn't understand. He would never do this to someone else: what pleasure did they gain from it? Why so much free cruelty, what exactly did it bring? Eventually, Ernest got a hold of himself. His throat felt heavy, so he swallowed his saliva and took a deep breath, hoping to ease the discouragement and the sadness that way. He started walking away when he felt the pressure of someone tapping on his shoulder.

At first the teen simply ignored it. Anyone trying to get his attention could only be doing so in order to humiliate him even more. It briefly crossed his mind that perhaps the perpetrator of the "prank" wanted to boast about what he had done, insult him a bit, then eventually reveal what he had done with his belongings. In the end though, the boy just didn't care anymore. Homework, no homework, of what importance was it? His grades were mediocre anyway, and, even were they not, who would pay his college education? Better to quickly escape the gateways of Hell to go rest in purgatory until the next day.

"Ernest!" This time he stopped. When he realized that he would have normally walked on, it was too late. The strange, redheaded girl's voice was already ringing in his ears, right next to him this time.

"I found your things." This time the boy's eyes downright widened, as he simply couldn't believe what he was hearing. Turning his head to the side, he found out that Dana had spoken the truth: in her freckled arms were all of his books and notebooks, along with the many, disorganized sheets poking out.

"I managed to get all of them back. Some guy had thrown them in random directions in the hallway," she calmly explicated, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "So I assumed you'd want them back and picked them up for you." She smiled kindly at him, her green eyes sparkling with a mixture of sympathy and understanding, but to Ernest's surprise, there was no pity there. She did not see him as an inferior, mistreated being: for the first time, it was as if he was valued entirely as a human being, and not as a mistreated dog, or worse, a circus freak. Hands slightly trembling, he gently took a hold of some of the books.

"Thank you..." he mouthed gently. He noticed that Dana was holding on to the other half. The redhead responded to his questioning glance by explicating that she was going to help him put back what he didn't need in his locker. Ernest vainly tried arguing that it was alright, that she had been quite helpful already, but Dana would hear nothing, and instead led the way, asking him as she walked all kinds of questions, such as where his locker was, how his day had been, and others.

"You know," she started while meticulously arranging his things inside the locker, "I was thinking about inviting you to my house, if you want to that is. I've already mentioned you to my mom, and she said she was perfectly fine with it."

Ernest's lips actually curled into a quasi-invisible smile; Dana picking up all of his things had touched him deeply, and despite the fear of having someone enter his protective bubble remaining, he was starting to feel deep sympathy for the strange Irish elf that had miraculously showed up into his life one day. And then he remembered what tonight was, and his grin vanished just as soon.

"I'm sorry, but I'd rather not." To his big surprise, Dana's smile didn't waver one bit. Ernest frowned, suspicion washing all over him in an instant.

"That chick's up to something..."

"That's alright, I'm sure we'll get to that some other time." She then took out her cellphone, a blackberry with a purple case, from her pocket, before checking it and instantly grabbing her backpack.

"Woops! Didn't see the time pass while I was with you, but turns out I really gotta go. My mom's gonna be wondering if I didn't get lost or kidnapped by a candy van."

"That's alright." This time his grin stretched a bit upward, rather amused by the remark, and quickly enough Dana, who had already started to walk away, was gazing back at him with her usual beaming smile.

"See you soon Ernest!"

"Dana!" he called after her. The girl froze in her tracks before turning back.

"Hmm? What is it?"

"Thanks for everything. That was...I mean...it was really nice that you'd do this and I just..."

"Hey, it was nothing. Hell, everyone should do this kind of thing. If they did, perhaps there'd be less violence." Her gaze wavered for a while, as the redhead got lost into her own thoughts. A split second later she was shaking her head, her smile returning, and waved Ernest goodbye before leaving him with his own questions and wonders.

--

He swiftly made his way through the woods, nostrils wide open and avidly sniffing, trying to detect the entrancing scent of blood. The monstrous wolf's paws barely brushed the ground; the branches, slapping against him to slow down his mad hunt, barely even managed to decrease his speed. Unfortunately for the beast, the forest was quite calm tonight. No human beings were to be found, and the only animal it had managed to catch so far had been a housecat. The poor little thing, unaware of the dangers lurking in the woods, had decided to adventure itself beyond the limits of its house's garden, and had paid its boldness with death. It took less than fifteen seconds for the werewolf to crush it between its razor-sharp teeth, and even less time for the cat to be reduced to a pile of gore and lifeless fur.

Suddenly the wolf crouched, its nostrils even more dilated. There was a strange smell in the air. It was something the beast had never come across in all of its years of strolling and hunting. It smelled...like a feline, and yet it was quite different from the cat. This scent wasn't light and mouth-watering, oh no. It filled the forest's humid air like poison. The wolf growled slightly, irritated by the unknown, aggressive aroma floating in its dark surroundings. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't a prey. It was out hunting, just like the beast.

The werewolf crouched down a bit, carefully makings its way across the trees and bushes. Its eyes were darting everywhere at once, its upper lip partly uncovering the deadly weapon that was its jaw.

It only had time to snarl viciously before a gigantic creature leaped out of a tree and collapsed on it. The thing let out what seemed like a mixture between a loud roar and a terrifying hiss, before its paw slashed through the air. The werewolf leaped backward, barely avoiding it, before gnarling even more, this time showing all its teeth appendages very clearly. Under the revealing light of the full moon, its canines were even more impressive; sparkling, razor-sharp diamonds ready to rip through the flesh of any type of opponent.

Unfortunately for the werewolf, this wasn't just any kind of animal he was currently faced with. The creature, just like the werewolf, was hunched, with massive musculature, implying that it too could walk on its hind paws. Although it was hard to tell in the darkness, its fur seemed to be dark brown, perhaps a bit red even. Its teeth, longer than the werewolf's, were also much sharper. The demonic creature looked like the hybrid offspring of a tiger, a lion, and a bear, all combined, only twice as big. It was indeed bigger than the werewolf, and its tail alone was almost just as long as the monster canine's entire body. Its eyes, shining, cruel and green, stood on the yellowish background which its orbits consisted of.

The new opponent stood on its hind paws, appearing even more horrifying than before, dominating the werewolf with its full height. Far from being intimidated, the hybrid canine leaped forward, aiming at its stomach: but the feline, far from being slow, immediately lashed out its paw, striking the werewolf with the strength of a five ton truck. The beast yelped in pain before hitting and rolling on the ground for a few meters. After that, the feline monster roared before charging its enemy. The wolf instantly got back on its four paws and launched against it, and for a few minutes, a fierce battle took place, one consisting of bites and scratches, punches and kicks, and many others. The wolf's speed and strong accuracy compensated for the tiger-like beast's colossal strength and the sharpness of its claws.

The feline roared in agony, as the werewolf had just sunk its teeth deep inside its back. Immediately, the animal charged against all of the trees it could find, destroying some along the way. Although it desperately attempted to hang on, the werewolf's jaw and back gave up on it, and it was forced to let go, resuming battle position despite all the exhaustion. The two creatures were now panting while throwing low groans and hisses at each other. There were a few seconds where the two simply circled each other, until the battle took place once more, each opponent as power-hungry and destructive as before.

The both of them were weakening. The werewolf was staring in all directions, panicked, muzzle up in the air, searching for the deadly feline, which had chosen a different course of action: hiding in the trees before attacking. The tiger-like beast, on the other hand, simply didn't feel like it would have the power to hold on much longer, for the wolf was much more aggressive and hateful than it had expected. Regardless, it threw itself on its opponent, trying its best to rip it to pieces while avoiding the excruciating pain of its canines.

The battle kept on for hours and hours. Occasionally the werewolf would think that it had chased the other creature away, but the feline would always come back for more, even if it was after fifteen minutes, or half an hour even. On the brink of exhaustion, the werewolf nevertheless forced itself to stay alert, until a sudden change in the atmosphere caused it to look up to the sky. It's at that moment that the beast realized that it simply wasn't as dark, and that the sunrise would be here soon. Its human conscience returning, the werewolf attempted to return to the mansion, but just at that moment, the cat creature returned, throwing itself at its opponent. Thus the battle kept on, until eventually, the first rays of the sun pierced through the night sky. The werewolf was now limping and panting, almost collapsing, but despite it all, its eyes wouldn't leave the body of its enemy, waiting to see if the feline would attack it once more. The other beast was acting in a similar fashion, its gaze locked on the werewolf, trembling due to how tired it was, yet refusing to desert the scene.

Eventually consciousness returned and swept over the werewolf. Its eyes dilated, and it became smaller, less muscled. The fur started thinning before finally disappearing, and Ernest found himself bloody, covered in cuts, and shivering against the humid grass and the cold morning air. The boy then realized anxiously that perhaps the feline beast was still there, and he was now a defenseless boy against this massive monster. At first when he looked up, he squinted; thinking that his eyes were deceiving him, he started rubbing the sweat and blood off of his brow. The beast with which he had mercilessly battled all night seemed to be...transforming!

"It can't be..." Mouth agape, pupils dilated, the boy's grey eyes would not leave the spot where, up to a second ago still, had laid a gigantic, predatory creature.

"Hello Ernest...I told you I'd see you soon, didn't I?" A weak grin decorated the pale face of the person before him, and suddenly, everything made perfect sense inside the teenage boy's mind.

"I'll take it the invitation to your house doesn't stand anymore...does it...Dana?" he asked with a crooked smile, still trying to catch his breath and grimacing because of the pain he was in. A radiant grin decorated her face in response. Pulling back from it a few bloody, dirty strands of hair, Dana managed to look up, her green eyes livelier than ever.

"Of course it does...although...perhaps we should go through the back door."

"Why's that?" The boy added, a sincere, happy smile for the first time spreading across his features.

"Well," the redhead started, delicately covering her privates as she stood up, "we might wanna put some clothes on first." For a while all was silent, and Ernest's face became completely rubicund, burning intensely of embarrassment. Quickly after though, as the sun spread its light on a much broader scale, gales of laughter could be heard all around, and with them, the singing of the morning birds.

--

"That's why you knew," he whispered, slowly bringing the cup of tea to his lips. He was now in Dana's room, seated on her bed. The two had entered through the back of her house. Dana had suggested that Ernest go take a shower, and in the meantime she'd get him some of her dad's clothes and make them both something to drink. The girl had somehow found the time to wash herself up a bit as well, and she now didn't look as disastrous as back in the forest, although dry blood remained in her hair and she did look dead tired. The two teens had snuck in the house at six, and it was now seven thirty. The two of them had been speaking all this time, recognizing in one another that missing element, and perhaps the misunderstanding that had plagued them their whole lives.

"Mhm. I tried befriending you normally," Dana explicated. "but then I figured you were probably partly defensive 'cause you didn't want anyone to know about you being a werewolf, so I figured I'd arrange a little rendez-vous between the two of us." She stretched before falling back on her bed, making low moaning sounds as well as sighing contentedly, closing her tired eyes.

"But—are you a werewolf? Because you don't exactly look like one," Ernest insisted, troubled by how comfortable he felt in her presence.

"Of course not silly—I'm a werecat." At this remark, the teen boy lifted an eyebrow.

"A werecat? I didn't even know that existed."

"Now you're just being racist. It's not because we're not as famous as you canines that we're nonexistent," the redhead teased, poking her tongue out briefly as she did so. Ernest rolled his eyes, choosing to pursue nevertheless.

"Can you blame me? You're the first one I've ever seen. Although...how does that work for you?" He inquired. All the while, he cast his gaze across the warm, cozy looking room which was so different from his. Dana's white walls had all sorts of posters covering them, some about video game characters, and others about fictional movie or novel based creatures, such as the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. The blue curtains across her three windows were drawn, and a lamp casting a weak, yellow light was the only thing illuminating the two of them, giving the room a melancholic, yet warm feeling.

"What? You mean—how'd I become one?" she asked in return. The boy nodded in response, and Dana turned on her stomach, arms crossed under her chin, her large eyes glancing up at him.

"In my case, it was hereditary. My dad also tried getting it from my mom." Ernest's eyes widened in stupor while Dana smiled, amused. She had obviously been expecting the reaction.

"Your parents are werecats?!"

"Yup. Well, my mom is anyway. My dad tried becoming one, but failed."

"What?! How?"

"Well," Dana began, rolling on her back once more, her left arm resting on her pale stomach this time (indeed, her constant shift of position had pulled her shirt up a bit). "He felt bad about my mom having this alone and stuff, and he really loved her, so he thought this would be the ultimate commitment. He disappeared one night, and we were both super worried. I remember mom would just stroll back and forth through the living room, looking panicked and on the verge of tears. He came back at around like, four or five in the morning, with cuts everywhere, and three huge slashes on his neck. He seemed in really bad shape, so mom called the hospital and asked him how he had gotten that. Dad said he'd gone to find a werecat who'd be willing to do this for him, so he might get contaminated –'cause, as you know, it doesn't always work when you do that—. Only problem was the werecat was like, around our age, and wasn't all that great at controlling himself yet, so my dad almost ended up dying. Thankfully, he was just fine after the doctors took care of him. He didn't become a werecat, but my mom married him on the spot, as long as he'd promise not to do that kind of crazy shit again. And that's that."

"They got married after having you?" Ernest questioned, perplex. Dana nodded, lightly grinning.

"Mhm. I think it's super cute that it happened that way. Dad feels bad when he has to stay at home on croissant moon nights, but hey. Can't be perfect. Plus, mom didn't want him to get transformed in all honesty anyway."

"Croissant moon?"

"A werecat's equivalent of the full moon."

"Wait—then how'd you transform yesterday?"

Dana raised an eyebrow, stunned.

"What do you mean 'how'? You don't have to wait until it's a full or a croissant moon to transform."

"You don't?"

"No! You can transform anytime, it's just on full moons for you guys, and croissant moons for us, we don't have a choice. Did you never try transforming outside of full moons?"

"Not exactly. Once a month is already way more than I can manage," Ernest grumbled. "About your mom not wanting your dad to be a werecat though..."

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say that I can picture that," the boy admitted. "I can't imagine why anyone would want this. I'd do anything to get rid of this curse." Dana blinked confusedly before frowning, standing up on one elbow to better look at him. Ernest, still lying against the wall, just took another sip of his beverage.

"Why?" she asked, almost naively. Ernest looked back at her like she was absolutely insane –which, in a way, she just might have partly been.

"What do you mean 'why'?! Every month, when the full moon comes, I wonder who I might kill, which innocent beast or person I might rip to pieces. Not to mention the pain of transforming—"

"Well that okay. But it's normal if you can't control yourself too much. Are none of your parents werewolves, though? Usually they help you control your transformations when you're young." Ernest lifted his teacup to his lips once more, casting his glance to the side.

"My mother would rather forget I exist: she's definitely one hundred percent human. As for my dad, I don't even know who he is, let alone what he looks like. My mother never mentioned him. I think he left when I was born." Guilt and sadness washed over Dana's features, and the girl got up to sit against the wall next to Ernest.

"Ernest...I'm so sorry, I mean...I didn't know..."

"It's okay, I didn't expect you to. I'm used to it anyway," he sighed. After that he shrugged and drank more of his tea. Dana silently joined him, and for a while none of them spoke. Eventually, Dana slowly lowered the arm holding her teacup, before turning towards him, seeming a bit pensive.

"Werewolves are said to have more difficulties controlling their transformations. They're also supposedly more aggressive than werecats. Perhaps that's why we see it differently as well." Seeing as Ernest still wasn't responding, the redhead went on. "Either way, you shouldn't be ashamed of being the way you are. After all, you didn't choose it. Besides, I think you're an amazing person."

"You're the only one," he responded, not looking at her in the eye. This time, she turned to face him, and for a few seconds their gazes locked, vivid green eyes versus steel ones.

"No I'm not. You just gotta be more positive, that's all. Besides, if I think that, I'm sure someone else will someday." Without saying another word, the two returned to their tea. Despite the exhaustion, Ernest found himself beginning to wonder, for the first time, if maybe, he hadn't encountered something actually positive in his life. He finally finished his tea and put the cup to rest on the night table, crossing his arms on his stomach afterwards. Dana did the same before curling into a ball next to his legs. It didn't take long for the girl to fall sound asleep, leaving Ernest pensively wondering how he'd get out of the house when the parents woke up, and just how profoundly this girl would impact his life. Soon after, his own cogitations and worries faded away as he too joined the welcoming realm of sleep, where he dream of Ben, and a strange cat with sparkling green eyes.