The blinding stadium lights and roaring crowds was practically a second home to Ronette—Roni, as her mother had so playfully nicknamed. A cutesy name for a woman who spent too much time benching weights instead of dolling up. Not that she didn’t like a reason too look all put up, but hell, she hardly had the time to do so. She never understood how her teammates were able to spend all their free time getting drunk, Probably because their seven foot tall men, a stark contrast from the just barely six foot tall werewolf. She had to fight for her position as wide receiver, but hell, it made the work all the more worth it.

Get your head in the game Roni! She internally chastised, sweat dripping from her brow as she zagged between the linebackers and defenders who were dead set on bringing her down. She peered back, black wolf ears flicking up at the sound of her name being shouted, a wiz of brown shooting through the air before, suddenly, the ball was in her hands. There was not a moments hesitation before she was sprinting down the field, well aware of the men twice her size right on her fluffy tail.

40 yards… 30 yards, was she actually going to get the game winning touchdown? If only she was so lucky—the moment her cleats brushed against the white grass signaling the 20 yard line, a hulking mass of muscle slammed right into her side, arm hooking around her waist as he dragged her to the ground (an illegal move, she internally screamed). All the breath in her lungs was drawn, moistening the air as she was sent into a group of school reporters and the shouting cheer squad.

Cameras and silvery pom-poms went flying as the undulating mass of muscles and tails sent the people on the sidelines straight into chaos. A collective ”Oh!” rippled from the crowded stands, members of staff quickly darting over to help with the heap of students. For a split moment Roni was too stunned to react, brown eyes swimming with stars and dark blots. It took a moment for the bleary haze to wane, leaving her nearly nose-to-nose.