Jack
The one thing that Jack hated more than werewolves was laundry. He hated doing it. He hated sifting through it. He hated putting it away. He wished he had some form of magic that would just do it for him.
But he didn't. So here he was, over two hours later, trying to find a specific pair of shorts that he wanted to wear tonight. Jack had torn his room apart, yet he still couldn't find them. Did the washing machine eat them?
Or maybe they were in Celeste's room. Due to her baggy clothes, their stuff often got mixed up. Normally he'd ask Celeste to find them, but she wasn't at home at the moment. He'd have to find it himself.
He trudged through the mess he had created and went straight into Celeste's room. Compared to his, her room looked like an abs
