Weredog Tart (32)

   
   "Weredog Tart (32)"
   
   Things were moving swiftly along with a quicksilver exodus from summer school for Siria and Lance; specifically, the teenage twosome had finished their academic purgatory, passed, and now both ready to receive their diplomas.  
   Noah and Mandy McGee were not proud, for what came next for their children?  Regardless, the adolescents were not worried about the states of their future, not putting pressure on themselves, yet still capable of crafting metaphorical diamonds--in the sense that Siria was ready to open up to Lance concerning her weredog status.
   Would he tell?  Be fabulously freaked and want to be turned, forever in touch with the supernatural himself?  And furthermore, Siria pondered the government, werewolf hunters, and all the uncanny things mentioned in the wisdom of the perpetually pondering underground.
   Still, she knew it wise to trust her best buddy.  To show him her canine suavity.  Hell, to marry the guy and wend Westwards, where freedom lurked by those thirsting to live a more antiquated and idealistic lifestyle among that mystical, American geography.  
   Sometimes, less is more, like Idaho or Oregon, and what wise fools do not look to the nature of the Northwest?   West is water, and North is Terra; thus, combine the two, and a magical sense of power takes hold of the traveler, him having an intrinsic arsenal of all the weapons and tools needed to survive within the mystic groove of things bizarre, forbidden to regular men, them phobic concerning Crusade, wanting an American Dream long lost save for the selfish, them misers miserably praising with lips, yet hearts as black as coal.