Klas

**Topic: The Life of a Werewolf in a Modern World and the Discomfort of Identity**

Ah, the fantastic life of a werewolf! You find yourself in the delightful and disillusioning experience of "I'm a prehistoric beast, but I'm really just trying not to get caught on a security camera at a gas station." You know, this is the kind of dilemma that makes you question the logic of the universe. One minute you're a fierce and imposing wolf, with a rig that would scare anyone's pants; the next, you're just another "quirky late-night customer" trying to avoid the suspicious gaze of a 24-hour cashier.

And when you emerge from the darkness of the world that seems to have been made for "The Walking Dead," you're welcomed with the subtle charm of the modern world: diesel, bright lights, and a hint of fast food that could scare even ghosts. Ah, the smell of melting bacon and whirring fryers, combining with the memories of your ancestors like ingredients in a recipe for "Nightmare Pie." Yes, because nothing says 'welcome to the 21st century' like a historical wound treated with ketchup and French fries.

And then there's your "titanic wolf" reflection in a store window: a cross between "a prison wolf" and "the conscious consumer's dream." You wonder, "What would this animal kingdom's class struggle look like if it were living the life of a modern-day pet?" Their coats, which display more varied colors than any contemporary designer's palette, create a breathtaking visual experience! "Dappled gray-brown! What a fancy word to hide my existential despair!"

And as the truckers pass by with their tormented minds stuck in their senseless routines, you contemplate the sad irony of what it is to be a Garou in today's world. You are a being who transforms into a beast with primordial powers, wandering through the nightlife as if you were on a reality show called "The Great Escape," where the prize is a nice plate of meat and the chance not to become someone's lunch.

But wait. The real question is: if you can't see the blood stain on your fur, does that mean you can still pass as a "normal" wolf? Or does the freedom of metamorphosis come with a price that, let's face it, shouldn't be paid at the diner counter? After all, who wants to be just another midnight customer when you can be the woodpecker of savagery?

Following that line of reasoning, what would the next step in your life be? A "Wolf Rebirth"? A title that rivals "The First E-commerce Deal" for selling wildlife-inspired pillows? Oh, how you have fun thinking about that. The life of a modern wolf is full of ironies that go beyond any inside jokes about baby bottles or fish-eating octopuses.

In conclusion, between the struggle to be a real wolf while navigating the mundane world of consumer capitalism, you find yourself surrounded by a wave of unanswered questions, as if you had walked into a coffee shop and realized you didn't even know how to order a coffee — and, honestly, who needs coffee when you can master the world of hypermetaphysics while trying not to get kidnapped inside a kleptocratic fast food circle?

So, if you can't find it on your first nighttime walk: remember, the real challenge is to make everyone believe that you are not just the wolf in search of his snack, but rather the star of a series where each episode ends in a freedom race under the light of the moon — or, at least, under the fluorescence of 24 hours. And from now on, the doors are open for the next gadó like "Here Comes the Wolfspritador". Enjoy your meal!