The Clan Wars: Dreams...

I dreamt of the wolves again last night. The power struggle between the clans that had been going on for centuries. I could taste the animosity in the air, the fear, the jealousy. I could smell need and desire. I could hear the smooth slide of fur whispering in the air. I wanted to howl out my frustration, to defend my territory. I wanted to run down a wild animal and taste its blood, thick and warm, coating my tongue. I wanted to scream that I was there and this was mine and I would fight to protect it.
When I woke up, I felt so hot, my veins singing with adrenaline. It was just a dream. It didn’t matter. I was restless and bothered. I got up and headed into the bathroom. I reached for the toothbrush that hung under the mirrored cabinet and caught a look at myself. My skin was pale under the tan, the skin clammy and fevered. My eyes were glassy, the pupils wide. I needed a shave, the skin I normally kept hairless was suddenly sprouting what looked like a good three-days worth of stubble. I need a shower. I turned to the big glass-enclosed walk-in and cranked the hot water on full blast.