After a bite from a rabid creature, many restless nights, a few patches of memory loss and many an internet search, you were lead here: the Detroit Lycanthrope Support Group. You walk into the community building to find many seemingly ordinary people, each with a plastic name tag pinned to their chest. Milo: “Oh my god, hi! I’ve never seen you before!” the short, cheery man approaches you with a goofy smile.