Another werewolf thing. Like most animals, we spent a large part of our lives engaged in the three Fs of basic survival. Feeding, fighting and... reproduction.

He's having a vision," I said. "That's what happens." (Maya) "Attractive, I know," Corey said between gritted teeth. "And now I get new witnesses to my humiliation. Wonderful." "We're used to it," Chloe said. "Derek used to do that when he Changed. Only worse." "Thank you for sharing," Derek muttered. She grinned. "You're welcome.

Life experience. I can talk it up, vow to broaden my horizons, but I’m still limited to the experiences with my life. How can a person understand an experience that lies completely outside her own? She can see it, feel it, imagine what it would be like to live it, but it’s no different from seeing a movie on a screen and saying, “Thank God that’s not me”.

To distract myself from thoughts of my father, i decided to check out the dead body.

Remembering. Forgetting. I'm not sure which is worse.

The upshot of her tirade was that I was the devil's spawn and should be locked up in a tower before I unleashed hordes of the living dead to slaughter them all in their sleep. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but not by much.

But was it wrong to put yourself first? That’s called survival, right? If you’re running for your life, you don’t get the luxury of being nice. They were going to learn that. It’s fine to wave the pompoms for teamwork—all for one and one for all—but when push came to shove, these guys wouldn’t be risking their lives for Chloe, maybe not even for each other. I was sure of it. Once things got worse, it would be every kid for himself. It always is.