sixwordstories | (no subject)

"Werewolves should know their place," Lucifer's eyes gleam, head quirking to the side slightly.

*he takes that as a direct criticism, even though he isn't technically a werewolf himself*

Yeah? And where would that 'place' be?

"Paws on the ground, just like God intended for those furry little dogs."

I don't think that's very fair.

*and no, the kid has no idea who, exactly, he's talking to here*

Just because you're born with your feet on the ground doesn't mean you can't reach for the stars.

Lucifer lets out a boastful laugh. "Kid, I wasn't born anywhere."

[eyebrow] That's generally how it goes, yeah.

You have to ask? [Not that the guy smells like a normal werewolf, but he's definitely a shapeshifter of some kind. Ben assumes that he can also smell what Ben is.] I have to Change at the moon. I can Change other times, too. If I want. Or under stress.

Er...

*ohcrapohcrapohcrap, has the guy managed to work out his secret? He swallows nervously as he hurriedly continues, his voice becoming almost a squeak as he realises the older man is a werewolf*

Stress? You change under stress? That's... yeah.

*come to think of it, he's getting a little stressed himself*

Not as easily as I used to; I've learned better control. That'll come with time.

It's dependent on species too. I met one guy, I shit you not, who had to take wolfsbane potion [shudder goes here] so he could control himself over the moon.