"See - since werewolves are so strongly linked to the moon..." Scott points into the black sky, like a child at a big white bird. Every bit of that kind of simultaneous matter-of-factness and wonder on his face, too. Vicky giggles, and he traces a circle. "...when it gets biggest, that's when we get biggest, too!"

He turns to her. His tail is wagging. "Since... it's the big pack leader in the sky, right? Like I was telling you! So when it's fullest, that's when we go wolf! In, uh, solid... dirty?"

"Ahh, close!"

He chuckles. One big, hearty, low chuckle. Taking that as praise, probably.

He winks. "But hey," he says. "That's just a theory!"

The pooch hadn't a single clue that he was quoting, Vicky figured. Wouldn't be the first time he'd heard some pointed, pointed delivery and let it stick in his brain like a funny new word.

She flashes a little smile up to him. They hit the first straight line of the park path, and he begins swinging his hand just as she takes the first li'l shuffle to a hop on her sneakers in the start of a little one-two scratching skip. The pulse of a giggle flashes in her chest. Instinct, is how she chalks it up. Looks forward with her prance movin' onward, while he looks all the further upward. He holds his free hand as a visor above his eyes and looks at the half-moon like it's tossed him a treat.

He yawns. Tongue lolling out, a little-bitty squeak like a doorhinge, and all. After the snap of a lick to his chops, he breathes, "Gee, to think that the moon gets two-point-five whole feet bigger..."

Vicky giggles again, a little wrinkle to her nose. "How'd you get a number so big?" she says. Her skipping shfrk-shfrk-shfrk-s at the ground in tight little steps.

"Well... it's a half moon, right?" His tail takes off wagging again. Looks straight back down at her.

Here's Vicky, it seems. With another treat.

"And if wolves get full when the moon gets full, and wolves have four feet..." He stands up tall. Eyes big, white teeth showing from points to gums. "Then if the half moon is half a wolf... moon? Then it needs to have half of that!"

The thrummmmm of one single laugh vibrates like a honeybee in her chest. "Hmmmmm, almoooooost..." Her head tilts from side. To side. To side. To side. "How many feet do you have when you're not full-wolf?"

She points in the air once. Bit like miming a little flick on the nose. He "oh-ho-ho"s. "That's a trick question, Vicky!"

His tail speeds up.

"Because I already have the point-five when I'm only half in wolf-mode - right here!"

Readily, he lets her hand go. A quarter of a turn like a big burly biplane, bends on into it, and puts it right there in her face.

A whapping, whapping tail. She squeaks - from a skip to a hop back, swats, grabs and grabs and hurtles stuffing motions with fingers bent like claws. She cackles. His tail wags faster.

"Heh heh..." There's something jollily can-do about the grin he's peering around himself to give her. That good ol' restful bright pride of a job that's pleased. He gives her a thumbs-up. "'Cause, you know, you draw tails and legs the same way - tails are just a little shorter, right? I guess unless you're a snake or an eel, or something like that, but they don't even have feet, so I don't know how they count...?"

"Really smart, Scott...!" Vicky has gone from restraining his tail to grabbing for it, two-handed. Like a baby bear at one big leaping, dancing fish. The bright bounce-and-curve of her tone still broken up by bright bitty bubbles of laughter. "Really clever..."

Clever, really, is the better word than smart. Scott is far better at being clever than he is at being smart.

But, well.

No one starts off a whole set.

Li'l flash oneshot for the r/FanFiction Daily Prompt. June 4th is "Growth".