The Tiny Luna (mpreg)

Chapter 1

So I just edited my ENTIRE STORY SO FAR, which was exhausting BTW because I had to go through every chapter for this edit, because people asked me to leave spaces between the paragraphs so they can comment on individual paragraphs instead of the whole chapter. Please let me know IMMEDIATELY if you notice anything askew like a paragraph that was supposed to be together or apart. You people better be grateful! (Blob human collapses to the ground, smoke funneling out overhead)

Opening the bathroom mirror, gazing inside where there were evenly spaced out shelves with the few belongings he had plus some of the motels complementary soaps and tiny shampoo bottles, Mason grabbed his small black bag that held his toiletries. Toothbrush, toothpaste, a little floss container he'd managed to grab during his last gas station heist, and even a thing of deodorant. It couldn't do anything for the wolfy smell he always had around him, or the smell of rotten leaves and decaying greenery that let all like him know he was alone, but it helped with his natural stench some.

Closing the mirror, Mason sighed and looked at himself in the mirror. Light red hair that could almost be perceived as brown sat in a curly mess around his head that refused to be tamed by any stolen comb or brush he acquired, pale skin with hollowed out cheeks showing just how underfed he is, and his tattered old clothes that had recently been dirtied but the only pieces of clothing he owned; a pair of socks with several holes in them like the large one that fit his entire right big toe, a pair of blue jeans that had rips over the thighs and knees that could almost seem stylish if he hung out with the right crowd of people, and black t-shirt that was ripped a little at the collar which almost made it seem like a v-neck which made him chuckle a little.

"That's one fugly looking bastard," Mason said aloud, sticking the toothbrush into his mouth and began to brush.

Not long after he was done he'd spit out the paste in his mouth and cleaned it out with a swig of water from the faucet. Lifting his head back up, Mason looked up at himself with his pale yellow eyes which labeled him a rouge werewolf who knew what they were looking for. Normal people would think they were oddly colored, or colored contacts for some, but there were those who would recognize the pale yellow pool that made up his iris.

Werewolf and hunter alike.

Mason put all his things away and walked into the main room that was like most motels he'd been to; there was the bed, at least one nightstand by the headboard, sometimes there'd be a lamp like this one but others might have lights in the wall or on the ceiling, a small dresser to put all his things which were empty since his only belongings were inside that small black bag in the bathroom, a tv sat on a small for-show shelf which was a plus, and lastly there was the door leading outside and the window with its pretty curtains. It was through these curtains that Mason spied something odd outside and was glad he'd gotten a room on the first floor as he saw two- no, three SUV's pull up in the parking lot just outside with several men hopping out with concealed weapons that someone normal probably wouldn't be able to see since it was after ten but Mason, even as weak as he is being a rouge werewolf without a pack, could see in the dark and recognized the guns, the silver knives most likely coated with something intended to poison him, the bows and crossbows, and Mason swore he saw one of them carrying a god damn sword!

"Who the hell carry's swords in this day and age?" Mason asked aloud, exasperated as he threw his hands up in the air, before curing under his breath and going back to the bathroom to fetch his little black bag which he stuff into the front pocket of his jeans before grabbing a too big black coat and slipping it on. "Time to go!" Mason declared and blew a kiss to a man sitting on a pile of books, biting into an apple, in a painting. "I'll miss you, Gerome."

With that, Mason quickly slipped out of the room and kept to the shadows, watching the men are the SUV's like a hawk focusing on his sense of smell and hearing the most.