Stupid, Chauvinistic Werewolves. . .

It Was Supposed to be Fried Chicken

Snap.

I didn't move. I listened carefully and inhaled. What is the God-awful smell?

In one swift move, I stood up and whirled, my lips pulled back in a snarl. I searched the tree line and saw a bright yellow pair of eyes.

Well, that is certainly a pukey color.

The wolf stepped forward, snarling. I stepped back and lowered my head, ears pulling back, lips sliding to cover my teeth, the growl turned to a whimper. The wolf puffed out his chest and sauntered forward. Inwardly, I smirked. I darted forward and nipped his paws. He jerked back, a squeak (which was almost enough for me to erupt in laughter) escaping from his teeth in surprise. He quickly snarled and advanced on me. I smiled quickly before kicking his furry booty.

Twenty seconds later, I shook my head, trying to dislodge the flesh in my teeth. I whined. Ew.

I trotted off, tail wagging, head still shaking.

I shifted on the porch and walked through the back door. I sniffed and my face scrunched up.

How did I miss this? Apparently, Garrett has been cooking again.

My head tilted as I heard someone shift upstairs. The house was empty except for. . .I listened closely. . .Dad. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Fun.

I went out to the garage, grabbed a fan, plugged it in, then opened a window. That ought to fix that. Since I didn't want to know what Garrett had been trying to cook this time, I hopped up the steps to the second floor. 

I had to pass his office on the way to my room, and I wondered if I was going to get away with passing, but then I remembered the rogue. Sighing, I knocked on the door twice before opening it without waiting for a response.

Dad looked up at me over the rim of the glasses that I gave him a hard time for wearing. He held a paper in one hand and a pen in the other. Sitting at his big, mahogany desk surrounded by bookshelves and other official things, put off a very professional appearance.

This appearance, however, was ruined by the fact that he was wearing Family Guy pajama bottoms.

I plopped down into one of the plushy chairs in front of his desk and snatched my favorite paperweight from his desk, even though he tried to grab it at the same time. I stuck out my tongue and started fingering the carvings in the chunk of wood.

"I killed a rogue today," I said, not looking at him. I heard him suck in a breath and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Over by Pullman's Creek. Big one too. He smelled gross." I looked up at Alpha Leland and saw him staring at me. The look on his face was somewhat bad-tempered. "What?"

Dad shook his head. "You know I don't like you going out alone." I sat up and snorted. This again.

"Dad, we've been over this and over this and I'm getting sick of going over this. I am to be Alpha, yes? And that requires respect from my pack, correct? And how am I supposed to earn that respect when my Dad has the pack protecting me, not the other way around?" I said, trying to get my point across. Dad looked at me and sighed.

"Fine. You know I don't like it because your being a girl seems to bring all kinds of danger from males who think that no female should be Alpha." Dad grumbled. I smiled.

"Yes, I know, Dad. But that's why you've trained me so well." I tried not to be irritated at being singled out because of my female status, but come on! Stupid, chauvinistic werewolves. . . A thought occurred to me. "Dad, what was Garrett cooking?" Dad got a queasy look on his face.

"I think it was supposed to be fried chicken."