Godfrey had changed somewhat since the last time Myrtle had seen him. He’d put on weight, that was for sure, but his eyes had never been pale blue in all of the years she had known him. Now they were.
His hair had always been unkempt, and today it was no different, although it was considerably longer and more coarse.
He’d always had hairy ears, one of the things that Myrtle wasn’t particularly keen on, but she never said. Well, she had hairy ears herself, and never liked it when anyone commented on them.
Godfrey was also stockier than before. More muscular.
Myrtle had bulked up herself, and she had stronger legs which meant she was considerably faster, something she wanted to test against Godfrey at the hunt later that evening.
The clearing was well lit by the Moonlight.
The Others had gathered by the far end of the clearing by the time the hunt was due to commence.
The Leader stepped into the centre of the clearing, looked up to the Moon and sent a chilling signal to everyone that the hunt had begun.
How How Howooooollllllll! He cried, as those gathered ran swiftly from the clearing, some on four legs, the others on two.
Myrtle preferred running upright, whereas Godfrey ran on all fours. He was quicker, she found, yet another of the changes she noticed.
Would he still be first with the prey? She pondered as she leapt across a stream and into the forest. A split-second later, this question was answered for her as well: Godfrey was the victor of the hunt.
The more things change, the more they stay the same, Myrtle thought, just as Godfrey howled his victory cry.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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