"Rough night last night?" I passed him a cup of hot tea.  "Been
worse." He muttered.  "I'll take your word on that." I poured
some tea for myself and sat down. "My God, Remus, you look like
hell."  Indeed he did. He was quite pale, with dark purple
shadows under his eyes. He looked tired, worn. On days like
this, he looked so much older than mid-thirties. Not so much
physically older, but spiritually older. I was sitting across
from an old, tired man.  "Feel it, too. Y'know, after all these
years, you'd think I'd get used to the full moon. Remembering to
take my potion, settling down in my room for the monthly
transformation, feeling like I've got a nasty hangover the next
day…" He sighed and looked into the distance. "It just reminds
me of how different I am. Less than human. Lonely."  "Maybe you
should start a support group. Werewolves Anonymous." I quipped.
He just stared forlornly into his cup. Damn, and I was trying to
be funny.  I tried another tactic. "I don't know what you're so
worked up over. Reall