“So how is your steak,” Evan Sr. looking at Eric as he quietly chews the meat. The talk he had with the boy earlier to help him deal with having to take a life did end on a questionable note. With Mike Lawson adding in his own two cents of advice; advice that was more tantamount to the old phrase “buck up”. Evan knew it would do little to help the kid. Evan could first remember the time he had to take a life; in the service of the military after enlisting. Staring down the barrel of his rifle as he took the life of an enemy combatant; a man who was only armed with a poorly maintained bolt action rifle, guarding a cocaine plantation. To Evan, the days of him as a member of Delta Force helping to hunt down some of the major leaders of various drug cartels was never a fun time for him. Years before he joined the Navy Seals, who then gave him a purpose and a sense of pride and duty.
“I’ll be honest,” Eric answering; “it feels a little to cooked for me. I guess it’s because ever since I became a were-panther, I’ve developed a taste for meat more on the raw side.”
“I may have over cooked it a tad,” Mike responding; “your steak looks closer to medium rare than rare. It happens at times; not every bbq is the same.”
“You had no trouble scarfing down that over cooked burger at the Rec Center yesterday afternoon,” Spencer looking at Eric.
“Never said I like meat exclusively raw,” Eric chuckling; “I just developed a taste for it.”
“How often do you hunt with Spencer and Frieda,” Evan looking at Eric.
“At least twice a week,” Eric answering; “but most are catch and release.”
“But we do end up snacking on rabbit quite often afterward,” Spencer quickly adding.
“And you have no trouble seeing your paws, or fur stained with blood,” Evan probing.
“No,” Eric answering; “it’s as if I look at the rabbit or a buck as a food. Delicious food. Yet,” Eric sighing; “that man last night…”
“Was the first time you bared your claws in self-defense,” Evan finishing.
“I didn’t bare my claws,” Eric correcting him; “I just punched him hard.”
“That is better,” Mike speaking; “you had the forethought not to make him a were-beast like us. That shows you didn’t let the panther in you take control. You restrained yourself.”
“I restrained myself,” Eric looking at Mike questioningly; “what do you mean?”
“There are times,” Mike putting his plate down; “that were’s lose control and their animal half takes over.”
“I’ve heard,” Eric interrupting; “it’s called going feral.”
“No,” Mike shaking his head; “feral is something due to a mental condition such as dementia or mad cow disease. No what I’m talking about is a type of emotional rage,” Mike sighing; “you black out or you have a kind of out of body experience as you… As you…”
“Rip a person to shreds,” Evan shaking his head; “its part of the reason why we have been hunted for centuries by people afraid of us. They only see the savage beast and not the person capable of reasonable thought.”
“You never mentioned this dad,” Spencer looking on concerned.
“It’s not something that is talked about openly,” Evan looking at his daughter; “even among weres.”
“There are times when a were will get so enraged in protecting or defend something that they lose control,” Mike sighing; “I should know, I nearly lost it when Benton attacked Eric after we dropped Frieda off remember?”
“That was shortly after I became a were,” Eric remembering that day; “Frieda was pissed at her father afterwards.”
“Never the less,” Mike trying to steer the conversation back; “the feeling of being sick to your stomach after killing a person with a punch. It pales in comparison after realizing you rip someone to shreds or ripped their throat out in unbridled rage. Which is why I go back to my earlier statement,” Mike cracking a devilish smile; “like a kidney stone, those thoughts too will pass.”
"What my father is trying to say," Evan shaking his head; "is its okay to feel awful with killing a person. Its natural; despite the fact we are more than just human, we do have the same emotions as humans. Some are better at dealing with it than others," Evan continuing; "the important things is to not let one emotion rule you exclusively over the others."
"Does that include love," Spencer looking at her dad.
Evan doesn't answer Spencer; smiling as he shakes his head taking a bite of his lunch, he lets the conversation go silent, giving Eric a chance to digest what was just said along with his steak lunch.
*******
Nate smiled as he put his cell phone away. Reading the text that Jean sent him as he took sip of water, pausing from his current run of lawn care. Seeing Alex finishing up with trimming the edges as he put his phone away; both load up the equipment into the back of the truck.
“So Ben is interested in joining this burgeoning business of mine,” Nate getting in the truck.
“After having his job offer from Grrrrrrr rescinded,” Alex answering; “he has been a bit moody.”
“Well,” Nate pulling out to head to the next job; “having Ben help out will be great. We have another sod job lined up this Saturday,” Nate smiling; “and it’s a big one.”
******
Jean grinned as she was modeling the lingerie she was holding; absently purring as she headed to the cashier to pay for her garment.
‘Nate is going to love removing this off me tonight,’ Jean smiling.
Thanking the cashier as she left the store, Jean fires off a text to Nate.
‘Meet me at your house after work. I have a little something you are going to like to see me in.’
Giggling as she hits send; Jean hopes into her Shelby Cobra. A vintage car her father got for her as a late graduation present; Jean had an enjoyable time helping him restore it to driving condition during the winter months. Spending time tuning the engine and restoring the interior in between her college courses and enjoying Nate’s company.
The drive from the downtown store to the Anderson house only took a few minutes for Jean; Pulling up to the curb and getting her bag out of the car along with a few other purchases, Jean opens the door with the key Nate gave her a while ago and lets herself in. Stepping inside she sees William and Martha in the living in their fursona sleeping soundly; the scent of their rutting fresh in air as she quietly chuckles to herself. Silently heading upstairs to Nate’s room, Jean prepares the romantic evening she had planned with her werewolf mate.