Sierra scratched her head, face contorting into an expression somewhere between incredible frustration and incredible discomfort. She knew coming to the city would be a bad idea, and here was her proof.

[i]Fleas.[/i]

It was probably one of the most humiliating things she'd ever experienced, even with no one to mock her for it. She was a werewolf, an amazing accomplishment of nature, and somehow she was still able to be stupid enough to sleep under some bridge and wake up with fleas. 
One would think that when she changed back to a human that the fleas would leave, right? That would be the logical thing. But no, they remained, crawling around in her hair, biting and itching, making Sierra seriously want to tear her hair out, for [i]days[/i]. This was worse than that one time she’d gotten lice. So much worse. 

She forced herself to stop scratching her scalp (it was already raw, she didn’t want to break the skin) and tried to focus on something else. She drew her legs up closer to her chest and leaning back against the alley wall, watching fog appear and dissipate in front of her as she breathed, just barely lit up by the streetlight. It was very late, or early rather, and she was tired, but the damn vermin crawling all over her wouldn’t let her sleep. And it was cold. Her sweater and jacket helped a bit, but the torn jeans didn’t, nor the worn converse. Where she would normally be shifted into her wolf form for the night, she was hesitant to do so here. There were no wooded areas to take shelter in, and she had no place to store her clothing if she shifted anyway. Still, she craved her thick fur in the chill. 

Luckily, something happened to take Sierra’s mind off of her body's complaints. A rancid smell wafted over, the smell of cigarettes. She looked over to see a boy –no, that’s a girl- standing under the streetlight and smoking. Wrinkling her nose at the odour, Sierra leaned a bit forward to get a better look at her. The smoker wouldn’t be able to see her here in the darkness, but even still, Sierra pulled her hood further over her head, in an attempt to cover the bright streaks of green and yellow on the tips of her hair, as if it would make her less visible. Strange for someone to be out this time of night, even in the city. 

Sierra saw the girl look up towards the moon, and her eyes followed the path. The moon was nearly full. In fact, if what she’d been taught was correct, it would be full in a couple of days. No wonder Sierra had felt antsy lately. 
Shrugging, Sierra decided to abandon all hope of ever sleeping tonight and stood up, scratching her head as she turned away from the smoker and stalked down toward the opposite end of the alley, silent as the night and eager to escape the awful smell. Maybe she’d find a rat to catch or something.