The late November day dawned clear and unseasonably warm, but that didn't last long. Clouds began to drift in by the time she'd finished breakfast, woolly, dark heaps of them hurried along by a biting wind. They jumbled together and sealed off the sky, pressing low to the ground and turning midday dark as evening. By the time the sun set the first flakes of snow began to drift down.
It would have been a perfect night for curling up with a mug of cocoa and a book, but lycanthropy is never cal...