“The wolf seemed to watch me struggle underneath the weight of the bike then bounded off into the shadows. Thankfully, I wasn’t injured. My knee-high riding boots protected my lower leg from road-rash. Once I righted the bike and kicked the stand, I tore off my helmet, hung it on the handlebar, and walked down the street, searching the shadows for the wolf. As I was sure it had been one. Which meant a werewolf was nearby. As I stood there, out in the open and vulnerable, I thought maybe this was...n’t the smartest thing to do. I should get back on my bike and get the hell out of there. Sure, I had training in defensive techniques—I studied S.I.N.G. like everyone else (solar plexus, instep, nose, groin)—and some martial arts, but not enough to take on a huge wolf that could rip out my throat with one swipe of its lethal claws. I started to back up towards my bike. Maybe I could get on it and start it before something big and hairy and hungry leapt out at me from the shadows. If I ran, I wondered if it would chase me.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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