Spike stepped out the front door. The weather in the small, isolated town was comforting to him. It was usually cloudy, like today.Spike hated the sun, he always did. His car roared to life as he turned the key and he slipped out of the driveway and headed for town. Gridlock traffic. “Not again.” Spike muttered. His phone began to ring. “Hello?...Yea…Im trying bu-...EH! it’s not my fault! You turned me in the first place!...Well Im sorry if you can’t get around to hunting. You’ll have to do it without me…what!?” Spike snaps his phone shut practically breaking it in his grip. It’s been Spike’s 4th year of being a werewolf. He found the fact that they really existed quite funny to be honest. The more he shifted, the more he was prone to getting in trouble. He was late for work, his packmates were pissed off at him and he began to wonder what would happen next. He was quite comfortable that he occasionally turned into a seven foot tall, muscular wolf. It made him feel free.