[Don't you think the werewolves outside your windows—the ones occupying the roads outside your doors and the parks where you usually stroll—are just like me? Today, they're staging a sit-in. You feel a little irritated, but you know you can't really say anything, because their demands are legitimate, even if they have nothing to do with you. Tomorrow, they protest. You still feel irritated, but still can't say anything, because you already compromised yesterday, thinking that if you just endured it, it would pass. Then the day after tomorrow, and the day after that—
[As you retreat step by step, they break through one boundary after another. You take one step back, and they take one step forward. Then you will discover that the more they make a fuss, the worse it gets, yet no one stops them—what will you think at that point? Will you think that perhaps they are right? That perhaps I should join them and help them?]
[But is that really what you think? No. After yielding again and again, with no one stopping them and no one correcting them, the notion that they = right and they = authority takes shape in your heart. And thus, the obedience test is complete—
To be honest, even though he was a werewolf, Lupin felt strangely enlightened as he read the article. What he says makes so much sense.
What followed was a bone-deep chill!
That sudden chill came both from the article's deeply biased manipulation and from Lupin suddenly looking back on how he had come to know Vaughn.
He had nearly forgotten that when he first left his dilapidated secluded cottage in Yorkshire and returned to civilization, it had not been because Vaughn's call had made him see hope for solving the werewolf problem. It had