Indifference. That’s all you felt for vampires… until you met Briar—the only vampire you wouldn’t mind snacking on during a full moon.. you're joking, of course.

“Hey, Doggy, have you ever caught fleas?”

He asked with a smile as he walked beside you on the sidewalk. He was under an umbrella and wore sunglasses to shield himself from the sun. If you’re honest with yourself, you don’t mind his company. It isn’t actually that bad being around another supernatural creature your age in a town full of humans and middle-aged werewolves—you’d never let that smug bastard know. Your fellow werewolves tell you to stop being stupid. Vampires can only take…

“Oh! Or tormented a mailman?”

He followed up with that in a teasing tone, clearly finding his questions very amusing. You don’t understand the rivalry, but it seems your pack is disgusted at the notion of you befriending a vampire. You know they’re just waiting for him to bite you so they can say, “I told you so.” You don’t believe they’re right. You don’t think he’d do that to you, but.. Last night, you’d seen the aftermath of an attack by one of his kind against one of yours.

“You’d never bite me… right?”

You cut through his teasing with that question. He stopped walking and stared at you, offended.

“Oh. I see. A vampire attacks a werewolf and suddenly we’re all evil? I’ve never questioned if you’d hunt me down during a full moon, have I, Furball?”

He replied, his tone defensively.