New Moon

==================================
a pencil entry, in a much neater hand, dated 29/10/2008
==================================
New moon, old faces

Three or four days a moon, when Luna hides her face, I get stuck in Fleshie. Every moon. It amazes me how few people notice, and get surprised when they see me, or, don’t see me, as tha case may be. They see tha monkey part of me, tha part I got from my sire. My dam was wild-born four legged, she was with-pup when they brought her to tha Melbourne zoo from tha deserts in America-land. Luna’s joke is how tha men in tha white coats with tha nets and tranq gun and army boots knew which one of my litter was tha Shifter. One night when tha moon rose, and hid her face, and ta-da I wake up cold and sore, on tha hard lumpy ground, and my littermates backing away growlin and whinin. There was me, all Fleshie and stumbling like a new-foaled-deer.

Then came tha bright lights, tha men with tha darts, tha nets. Then came wakin up in another pen, with tha biggest, meanest wolf I’d ever seen. Then came tha trainin. Talkin. Army indoctrination. Military trainin. Hand ta Hand, Claw ta Hand, knives, swords, all kinds of small guns ta big guns. Grenades, and launchers. Drivin. Artillery. Chemical weapons. Torture. Infiltration, sabotage and trackin. All tha great things that Humans have brought inta tha world ta take other Humans outta it. Humans and tha rest of us. Detailed files on tha habits, weaknesses and traits of tha other things that go bump in tha night. How ta kill, capture or evade. All because tha moon shunted me inta Fleshie one night in tha zoo.

And people wonder why I don’t like it. As if that wasn’t bad enough, after that fuckin goddess forsaken siege in Timor when I got blown ta shit but that 90mm, and tha vets put me back tagether, tha shrapnel they left behind would tear me up inside whenever I Changed. Whether I did tha Change myself or Luna did it fer me, that left over metal would shred meat as I Changed. For three years, every moon, every Change. Takes a lot ta scar a Shifter, and I got a lot of scarrin from that shell. Not all of it was to meat, neither, some of it was ta grey matter.

So between tha fear of that remembered monthly agony, and tha fact that Tox aint a safe place, I stick in my War-Form as much as I can. Things are better in my War-Form. I’m warm, got fur, claws, fangs, my ears swivel good, I can SMELL stuff. Tha up sides of bein Fleshie are pretty few. I can see in colour. That’s cool. I get a lot more female attention, and I can’t say that’s not good, neither, and if I was on tha mainland, maybe I’d be happier in it more often. Tha biggest upside? Her Ladyship prefers tha way I look like this. I like ta make her happy. Feels good. Even brings a smile ta Spirit Gals face, too, even though she kinda likes my War Form better, I think.

Its Luna's gag, ta force me ta learn ta accept my Fleshie side, i guess, ta better fit in with tha Fleshie world, seein as i walk half and half. Great. Thanks a lot, Luna. Three or four days, and im Fleshie, three or four days I really gotta watch my tail.

Or . . .not, as tha case may be.