It seemed to be the cry of a dog, unbroken and feral, and it persisted for nearly a minute, tapering from its initial brutish blast into a long-drawn and tremulous animal quavering. More yowls immediately answered it. They were louder than typical dogs, and their voices far more varied, and the weird notion dawned on me that, perhaps, they were not dogs at all, but people exerting themselves in canine imitation. And then, one idea following in the footsteps of the other, I was struck with this freakish conjecture: that Quinlan was a werewolf.