"Now, dear, is this really necessary? You'll be late for work if you keep this up." 

"Rrrmmph," came the low growl of the Iberian wolf, who had responded to his mother's entrance by curling up tighter on the bedsheets. They were always messed up and nobody knew how it happened, not even Clay, whose fluffy body was partially covered by blanket right now. It was fairly clear that he was not a morning person. 

She scratched him behind the ear, which he hated because he loved it. His tail thumped involuntarily in approval. His parents had adapted well to raising what had suddenly become a werewolf without any explanation. He was grateful, but not willing to show it, at least not right now. "Hhhrrrgh," he sighed, and put his head on his paws. 

"I have to go. I made you a pot of coffee. And young man, if you're late for work because you were a lazy bones you'll be in big trouble!" The warning didn't carry much weight. No matter how strict his mother tried to come off as, she was simply too gentle a person to follow through on things like punishments. It even showed in her voice, which she kept lowered for some unknown reason. Clay flicked an ear in acknowledgement as the plump woman left the room and closed the door. 

With one more sigh, Clay gave a mighty stretch and changed to his human form. It was [i]clearly[/i] inferior in terms of temperature control, but unfortunately it was necessary for things like putting clothes on, which was legally required if he wanted to earn some money. He pulled on his clothes in a sort of groggy stupor and went blearily out to the kitchen with a pout on his face. He'd asked multiple times for different hours. Everyone had assumed he was exaggerating about how much he disliked mornings. He poured a mug of black coffee and downed it rapidly, checked his watch and nearly choked. "Shit!" 

He started his work day by rushing out the door, tripping over his own feet, and starting the car in a wild hurry. His mom wasn't kidding. He had three minutes to get to work. 

Luckily, Clay had a habit of speeding without getting caught. He revved his engine and muttered, "Bring it on, Father Time."