I’ve never had two WIPs at once (of course neither one has a title).
This is from a short story about a warewolf.
The wolf watched from the dense underbrush as the young family unloaded their car; something was pulling him. He had been alone for over two years since Brian died. He vowed then to never love another human; it hurt too much to lose them. There are drawbacks to being nearly immortal; you outlive everyone you love. He ached for companionship. It wasn’t so much sex he missed as the closeness of another creature.
The sadness of the immortal. Very poignant six.
Thanks – my first try at paranormal.