[  Mood: Amused ]
"How do you manage?"

"I’m different then you you, I’m not a pack or herd."

"WHAT?!"

"Wolves, they are pack, so are the cats, I’m not one of them."

He sips his coffee, I wait.

"What the hell are you then?"

I smile and scratch the beard that never goes away, "Bear, be glad it is winter."

I sip my coffee and smile at him showing the fangs that never go away, "It takes a lot of your kind to take us down, so I would suggest this is the shut up and listen part of the night. I’ll get to the rest of the dark nasties of the world here in a bit. Eat your pie, it is great here."

Katie shows up with slices like a goddess, which she was, 2000 years ago. Bakery has become a factory, she has no place of worship any more. We share a smile and she goes to the next customer. I’ll worship at the altar of pie here in a bit, but this young were needs some training.

I continued, "Humans always wanted magic. They had it all along; first iron, then the printing press, atoms, air to ground missles. They pushed us to the corners through numbers and science. There is your magic young packling. The magic of the periodic table."

The kid looks sick, I have to, and I know it is a pun, but a funny one, throw him a bone.

"We still live, just lay low son." I give my Papa Bear smile to Katie she scratches my chin, walks off and I can’t help but growl, the truckers in the next booth go silent. I look over at them and nod.

The kid looks at me and gets almost savvy, "So just a werebear?"

I take a bite of pie, I love this little diner; "No sonny, the first. The first bear that thought he’d like to walk like a human."

I tear into my pie, kids, they just don’t really understand pie after a certain age.