There she goes again. Mumbling, grumbling and howling in pain. It saddens me to see her like this, so I take care of her. I make my way up the stairs with a tray of soup, heading towards her room. Everyone hates to be around her during her time of the month, but she's my girlfriend, I love to take care of her.
Pushing open the door, I see her laying on the bed, curled up in pain. Fur covers her entire body, her once well-manicured nails are now long black claws extending out of boney paws, and her perfectly pink lips I kiss so sweetly, are now a long, drawn-out muzzle, pulled back in a hidious snarl.
Yup. It's not my fault that every once a month my girlfriend turns into a werewolf. It just happened, we don't know why. She sat with her head on my lap as I fed her soup and rubbed her belly, her tail thumping in delight. She never felt pretty during this time, so I always liked to be there for her. I knew that in a few days, her symptoms would subside and she'd be back to normal, but every month we couldn't avoid it.
Normally she would lash out and growl at you if you got too close, but if you took the time to understand her, she was like a tame, little puppy.
I love her, always, even during her time of the month.