“You’re moonsick,” says the witch, rolling xir eyes “It happens when the full moon comes on your menses. Symptoms include eating rude people because you’re hangry.”

The werewolf frowns “Well, make it go away.”

“Sorry! You’ll have to wait out the moon. Eat some ice cream so you’re less hungry next time you get catcalled.”

“Something is wrong.” says the witch.

“Hn?” grunts the vampire “It’s three in the morning, go back to bed.”

“Something is wrong.” insists the witch “Wake up, we need to check the shoppe.”

Down below, in under a table in the storeroom, a curse begins to take shape.

The werewolf smiles vacantly at the witch.

The witch glares.

In the background, something shatters loudly.

“Take the dogs.” demands the witch “They aren’t mine.”

“They aren’t ours.” says the werewolf pleasantly “And [Alpha] is sick and unable to override that decision for the next several days. Give your dogs to someone else.”