I like to think that Bev asked Veronica just what percentage of werewolf transformation she would prefer, and they negotiated the appropriate quotient. Either that or they started at zero and are working their way up to one hundred.
“Do you hear that?” Veronica asked, lifting her head and cocking an ear. “Kind of a rumbling?”
“I hear Maeve on the phone with your boyfriend Peter,” Bev said, lying on her back, covered only in soft brown fur, on the Kenworth’s sleeper cot. “—Who you’re poly with, good to know—but no rumbling.”
“That a problem?” Veronica asked.
“Your boyfriend or the lack of rumbling?”
Veronica crossed her arms, lying on her tummy, also nude. She looked shyly up at the werewolf. “He wishes he was my boyfriend,” she said. “He’s not. I don’t do relationships. …That a problem?”
Bev leaned forward, smiling. “What about me has struck you as giving a ‘settle down and put down roots’ sort of commitment vibe?”
Veronica raised herself to her hands and knees. “Good answer. I like that answer. —You could hear all that? From in here?”
“It’s the wolf. Good ears.”
“Finding a lot of fun wolf parts actually,” Veronica said. “Hey, quick q, will I turn into a werewolf if you bite me?”
“Will I turn into a gargoyle if you bite me?”
“Let’s find out!”
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