The Academy

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The yellow moon hung above the city, fat and sick, but the wolves took no notice, at least not that Mitsuru could see. Squinting through binoculars from the rooftop across the empty street she frowned, her hand absently seeking the bag at her feet as if to reassure her that it was still there, within reach. The restricted field of view and the necessity of refocusing were unfamiliar and frustrating, but she was reluctant t o try and use a surveillance protocol. It was the day before the full moon, and the Weir would be extraordinarily sensitive to such things.

Mitsuru shifted slightly, trying to take the pressure off her sore left knee, which had been bothering her ever since she scaled the building. Through the lenses, she could see the pack at the edge of the deserted park; a half-dozen grey shapes, tongues lolling out, sitting patiently. Mitsuru was disturbed by this behavior.

When the moon was full, Weir hunted. They were as much slaves to the lunar cycles as the tides. Four days of the month, Weir were trapped in their bestial form, almost berserk with bloodlust. Weir were always dangerous, and became even more so during a full moon. But, they were also terribly predictable.

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