The Manitou Springs Chronicle
In his more primal forms Randall has a dark black fur.
Grandpa’s been around. He’s been on his own since he was a kid, having run away after ending (through rarely starting) too many fights. He’s wandered from town to town, doing odd jobs here and there, never staying in one place for too long. Either he’d be encouraged to move along by the local powers that be, or his innate wanderlust got the better of him and he’d wander along to the next place.
One night, walking along a dark highway between Lafayette and New Iberia, a black wolf attacked him. He woke up in the hospital. The orderlies chuckled over his story but started him on rabies shots – there were no wolves in Louisiana. Nonetheless, the next few days were a psychedelic trip as the spirit world shuddered with his rebirth as a werewolf.