Perhaps the story was a bit too flat
Letting it feel two dimensional
Allow your characters to take off and fly
Now I would also shave off a bit here and there
Eventually cutting out all the plain.
Fraser combed his arm hair against the grain
Unleashing waves of golden amber hair to crash back upon hardened muscle
Rays of sunlight danced upon the same golden coat covering his back
Really he figured he should shave some of it off
Yet there was the fun of the mystique of being part werewolf that he enjoyed
The barbershop smelled of talcum powder and yesteryear’s stale cigarettes. Dale closed his eyes and felt the gentle tugs of scissors cutting through his wispy graying hair. He remembered back to a time where he would be smoking one of those cigarettes as the barber struggled to tame his gorgeous mane. He had been king back then, and this place had been his private den. Now he was an aging male with a comb over and a paunch of too successful hunting.
The bell announced a new customer. Dale opened his eyes to see Charlie come in. Charlie rubbed what little stubble he had on the top of his noggin. “Got time to shave me?” Charlie asked. “My daughter is getting married this week.”
Dale smiled and closed his eyes. He may not have much, but he had more hair than Charlie, and that was good enough for this king.