jb.ii

It
had been a simple thing to find prey. It always was. She played the stray bitch
and followed the second little girl who’d shown interest in her. The first, a
toothy little blonde, had been too clingy, which meant she might end up directly
in her bed during the night (making it much more difficult to roam around her home),
and that was a dangerous place for both of them to be now that she had made her
decision to transform; besideds, the toothy blonde had been with her mother and
she’d sensed no interest from her, adding a possible impediment to her hunt
that she didn’t need.

The
second girl, the lonely one with the brown hair, was perfect. She’d been dangling
all alone with her bum in a swing, staring at the ground, nudging gravel with
the toe of her sneakers, and it had taken nothing for her bitch self to nuzzle into
the brown haired girl and coax her out of the swing. The brown haired girl sat
next to her and shifted between petting and scratching – one of the things she
loved in bitch form (and found she loved just as well in her true form) – but
the brown haired girl didn’t smother her. There was no big hug like there’d
been with the toothy little blonde. The brown haired girl then stopped petting
her, checked her watch, stood up, said, “Goodbye,” and left.

She was perfect, so
she followed her.