Leaving the way we came, Shay gathers up my scattered clothing, and opens the door leading from the council chambers to the blue hall. She holds the door for me, and I dip my head low in thanks as I slink by her. The hallway that had seemed so ominous before now appears to glow when I look at it through these new eyes of mine. I am awed momentarily by the difference, my ears pitching forward as I look around, confirming that this is indeed the same place.
The painting of the Moon Goddess seems far larger from where I now stand, more impressive. Shay catches me staring at it, and comes to stand at my side. For a moment we both just stand in silent reverence.
"She was on your side in there, Rabbit." Shay murmurs to me, though her eyes don't leave the painting. Very gently, she presses a kiss to the pointer and middle fingers of her right hand, then touches the digits briefly to the face of the Goddess. Her head bowed, the werewolf turns on her heels and starts back down the hall.
Without another word Shay leads the way to the elevator, which we take back down to the lobby. Straight-faced, with eyes focused ahead, Shay blows past the receptionist desk and out the lobby's glass doors. Even with my four legs, I have to skip into a trot to keep pace with her long, confident strides. As I pass her, the feral eyed receptionist actively leans across her desk to catch a better look at me, her brows elevated in surprise. The doormen have similar expressions when they see me.
Pride stirs timidly in my heart when I witness their faces. I feel like I have surpassed some kind of huge expectation. Unconsciously, my tail creeps out from under my belly, and swings low behind me, no longer tucked.
Once out on the street, however, I feel anxious again. I am downtown on a Friday, in the city that never sleeps. Normally, this wouldn't be such a problem, but I am currently a bit on the fuzzy side. A man in a business suit stops in his tracks when I step out onto the sidewalk. His eyes grow wide, but instead of screaming in terror, he just lets out a long, low whistle.
"Whoa, that's one big dog you have there. Is he ok without a leash?" The man chuckles nervously, loosening the tie of his suit. Before I can run, Shay places a hand on my head, casually stroking my ears. She's actually treating me like a damn dog!
"She's completely fine." Shay laughs, stressing my gender while continuing to pet my head. "Rabbit wouldn't hurt a fly. She even likes cats." The jab she makes about my cats triggers my irritation, and I shake my head free of her hand.
"Rabbit?" Snorts the man, looking down at me in disbelief. "What a name."
"Trust me." Shay smirks, ignoring me as I glare up at her. "It suits her."
At this point Shay is pushing her luck. Am I grateful that she saved my butt back in that courtroom? Of course, But that doesn't give her the right to mock me when I can't defend myself.
Luckily the man seems to consider the conversation over, and without trying to pet me he continues on his way. I notice with some gruff pleasure that despite Shay's assurances, he gives me a wide berth as he passes. Maybe I don't look as pathetic as I feel.
The humor bleeds from Shay's countenance as the man leaves. With a sigh, she opens the back door to her car and motions me inside. Without preamble, I hop into the seat, taking up the entire space. It's a tad tight in a Prius for a beast of my size. I have to curl my tail around my haunches to avoid getting it stuck in the car door when Shay closes it behind me without warning. Before I have the chance to growl at her, Shay is in the driver's seat, fast as lightning, peering over the backrest at me.
"Want me to open the windows so you can stick your head out?" The werewolf asks, sounding coy again. I don't even attempt to dignify such a question with a response. Instead, I just drop my head, resting my muzzle on my paws, and glare at anything but Shay herself. I wait for the car to rumble to life, eager to be home, but the engine never starts.
"Hey." Shay tries to get my attention. I refuse. "Rabbit." When she drops the nickname, I pointedly look away from her.
"Nikole." My full, proper name, is spoken at a lower register. Shay's voice takes on that same, soft tone that she had used with me in the courtroom. Unable to keep up with her constant mood swings I feel incensed, but I begrudgingly turn my head to face her nonetheless.
"How's your paw?" The question is quiet, almost shy. My head cocks to the side in confusion, and a small frown appears on Shay's lips. "The cut. Does it hurt?"
Oh. I barely remember Shay drawing my blood with the dagger. The cut had been a negative ten on my pain scale compared to the change. I flip over my paw, and nose at the padding. There is no pain. None. The wound has completely healed, as if it had never happened in the first place.
Surprised, I look back at Shay and shake my head. The werewolf gives me a small smile before turning back around to start the car. "Good. I'm glad." She is quiet for a second after that, concentrating on pulling out into traffic. Once we are headed out of downtown, Shay speaks up again. " ...I'm sorry about the cut." It seems like there is more she wants to say, and she keeps glancing into the rearview mirror, watching me in the backseat. She doesn't utter anything else, however, and being unable to speak, I don't try to initiate any conversations either. So, we drive in silence.
Shay rolls down the windows after a while, and the scents of the city come wafting into the cabin, making my nose twitch. I can smell people, lots of people, and gasoline, and car exhaust, and pigeons, and so much more. So many smells my head is almost spinning! Suddenly curious, I sit up and daintily sniff around the perimeter of the open window. I have never ridden in a car as a wolf before.
As we drive past a 5-star Restaurant, the smell of gourmet food hits my nose, and saliva pools in my mouth. Inhaling deeply, I stick my head out the window. The wind tickles my whiskers, and whistles in my ears as we drive. It is cool, crisp, and feels lovely on my face. For a time, I just close my eyes, breathing in the chill October air.
A small, feminine giggle startles me out of my reverie. It sounds stifled. I catch sight of Shay's face in the rear-view mirror: she has a hand over her mouth, eyes shining with mirth. That's when I realize just what I have been doing: riding like a dog with their head out the window. What's worse is that my tail has been wagging happily without my knowledge. Damn thing has a mind of its own!
Grateful for the inability to blush, I scoot away from the window, and drop my head back down onto the seat, trying to play my behavior off as casual. I'm pretty sure I fail in acting nonchalant, because every time I look back at the mirror, I can see Shay's grinning face.
The rest of the drive is uneventful, and before long, my eyelids begin to grow heavy. I am emotionally exhausted; completely drained of adrenaline, and the gentle motion of the car is lulling me to sleep. By the time my apartment complex comes into sight, I am actively fighting my drooping eyes
"Tired?" Shay asks once she lets me out of the car, watching as I shake my pelt to ward off the fatigue. Not wanting to show any more weakness tonight, I shake my head, trailing a few feet behind Shay as we walk into the building. Sadly, the yawn that escapes me while Shay is unlocking the door doesn't help sell my lie. Shay doesn't say anything, to her credit, just very politely opens the door and lets me inside.
When she repeats the action and lets me into my apartment, part of me hopes that this will be the end of our adventure together. I'm low on emotional bandwidth, and need some alone time to recharge. However, my hopes dip as Shay follows me inside and locks the door behind her.
The werewolf looks completely at home, placing my clothing and keys on the counter in the kitchen. "Hey, are you hungry?"
What is she thinking asking me questions when I can't speak? Does she expect me to bark once for no and twice for yes or something? Having no idea, I do neither. Instead, I wander into my living room, feeling like a stranger in my own home. I have never been a wolf in my apartment before, and the realization strikes me as odd.
I take a hesitant sniff, sampling the amplified scents of my home. Everything smells rather pleasant, thankfully. Other than the feint smell of cat litter wafting from the bathroom, that is. Oh, the joy of having indoor pets.
"Nikole?" Shay's use of my name draws my attention to her. She has followed me into the living room now, and stands with her hands on her hips, looming over me. I notice that she is no longer giving me as much personal space, and I inch a little in the opposite direction. A frown flits across the werewolf's face for a brief moment, only to be replaced by her typical placid expression. "Do you want to take a moment and change back so we can talk properly?" She asks.
My answer is no, but I know it's not the one Shay is looking for. Honestly, I never want to make the change with anyone in the vicinity ever again. Also, I just flat-out don't feel like talking right now. I'm too tired, too upset, and in desperate need of some time to process everything.
Seeking a few minutes of privacy, I side-step Shay, and scuttle towards the open door leading to my bathroom. I would have preferred my room, but the door is closed. Shay probably would have gotten it for me, but my cats are still inside, and I don't want her anywhere near them.
I pause briefly at the entry way, looking back at Shay. She just nods, understanding my intentions. Stepping inside, I turn and nosed the door shut behind me. I can smell the sweet, mixed scents of my hair products and perfume in the air. It helps to mask the odor of the cat box.
Suddenly, I am at a loss for what to do next. Jumping up, I stand on my back legs, and balance myself with my front paws on the edge of the sink. Standing like this, I am taller than I am in my human form. I am able to peer into the bathroom mirror and really look at my reflection. Half of me expects to see the usual sight of pale skin, long, unruly, brown hair, and dark brown eyes, but none of those features reflect back at me.
The pitch-black fur of my face creates an intimidating mask over my muzzle and eyes, before fading into dark shades of brown. Only my eyes look familiar, and not because of the color. It has become quite apparent at this point that my golden eyes are an anomaly. The color is foreign, odd, even among the werewolves, but their expression is one I know well. I can still see myself in my eyes: they still look human, even if the rest of me doesn't.
Unable to bare looking at myself like this any longer, I drop down from the sink. Turning around, I bump the rim of the bathtub with my haunch. I feel too big for the available space like this. Should I just change back and get it over with? My body shudders at the thought. No. It is still too soon for me to want to try.
When a knock sounds at the door, I reflexively back away from it, fur bristling.
"Rabbit?" Shay calls through the door. "You alright in there?" When I don't make a peep, I expect Shay to just open the door. It's not locked or anything. To my surprise, however, the door remains shut, and Shay falls silent on the other side for a time.
After a while, Shay finally knocks again, this time calling out "Nikole?" instead of Rabbit. I don't respond. I still don't feel up to changing back, or talking. So, trying to be quiet, I lay down on the bathroom tile.
There is another period of silence. Shay still refrains from opening the door. This time a longer interval passes before a third series of knocks. Irrationally irritated, I get up from the floor and hop into the bathtub, as if the shower curtain can offer a thin layer of protective privacy.
There is something about being surrounded by the four walls of the tub that makes me feel a bit more secure. It's a tight fit, and I have to curl up and make myself small. Around me, the cool porcelain quickly warms with my body heat, and I bury my nose beneath my paws before closing my eyes, trying to shut out the rest of the world. Now that things are still, and quiet, and warm I feel my weariness returning in great waves.
I'm fairly certain that Shay knocks again, but I can't be positive. Surrounded by the familiar scents of my home, sleep finally lays its claim. I have dreams, but the fragmented type: there is no story, no history, no goal. Just images, trailing one after the other. The sky, the moon, and so many stars. A tall woman whose face is shrouded in dark silk. The heavy, double doors leading to the werewolf council's chambers, silver handles gleaming. A black wolf howling against a milky white backdrop of falling snow.
When I awaken, there are birds chirping outside my bathroom window, the sound too shrill to allow for any further slumber. I draw back the shower curtain to see that it is still dark outside. It must be very early, perhaps 5 am or so. Then I notice my hands, or rather the fact that I have hands.
I am in human form.
I have no recollection of changing back, and I'm fairly certain I had fallen asleep as a wolf. Touching my arms, my face, I run my fingers over my body, checking for any lingering fur. There is none. Did I change back in my sleep? Was that even possible? Wouldn't the pain of the transformation wake me?
There is some residual soreness in my joints. My neck and back are particularly stiff, but I suppose that should be expected after sleeping in a bathtub. Experimentally, I pop my neck, roll my shoulders, and rotate my back. Most of the discomfort fades as I stretch.
Slowly, I test out my legs, and try to stand. I have no difficulty, and step cautiously from behind the shower curtain, and out of the tub. My bare toes curl into the familiar, fluffy, fibers of my bathmat as I glance at the mirror. A perfectly human reflection stares back at me, complete with my typical wide-eyed, doe-like expression. My hair, still wild with sleep, tumbles over my shoulders to conceal my bare breasts. I am completely naked, though this fact doesn't surprise me. A sense of modesty has me searching the bathroom for my robe, but when my hunt proves fruitless, I settle with wrapping a towel around my body.
My attention now turning to the bathroom door, I notice it is still closed. Tiptoeing, I inch closer to the door and press my ear against the wood. Is Shay still in my apartment? Or had she given up on waiting for me and just left?
I can't hear anything outside. Taking a deep breath, I rotate the knob, and open the door. It swings open a few inches, and hesitantly, I stick my head outside. I don't see anything immediately, peering down the hallway, but when my eyes flicker downwards, I notice the body on the floor.
Shay. Curled into a little half-moon shape, sleeping outside my bathroom. Immediately, I shut the door again, heart hammering in my chest. Fabulous, she's still here.
The noise must have woken her because after a second I hear her call out sleepily. "Nikole?" I take a step back from the door out of reflex, watching as the handle turns, and the bathroom door creaks open. Not opening the door completely, Shay pops just her head in. Her eyes find me immediately, and though it may be my imagination, her eyes seem to rove my body before focusing in on my face. "You alright?" She asks quietly, voice still throaty with sleep.
Uncomfortable, I pull the towel more securely around my naked body, painfully aware that the cloth only preserves my modesty down to mid-thigh. "Fine." I mumble, looking away from her.
Shay looks tired, and I realize that this is the first time I have seen her appearance in any form of disarray. She is wearing the same clothes as last night, sans blazer, and they look wrinkled and slept in. Her hair is wild; the short tresses in the back sticking out at every angle, while her long bangs curl around her regal jaw-line. Yet, even bed-worn and newly woken, Shay remains eerily beautiful. Her skin radiant and eyes impossibly bright.
Obviously, the werewolf had stayed the night, and I have to wonder just how much time she spent outside my door.
"You sure?" Shay questions me again, opening the door a fraction wider. I have to stop myself from drawing back a step further.
"Yes." My reply is clipped, tense.
The door opens completely now, though Shay remains just outside the threshold. She regards me in a languid stance, non-threatening, with her arms loosely crossed over her chest. I half expect her to scold me for avoiding her last night. I had, after all, spent the night hiding in my bathroom from her. However, Shay offers no sign of annoyance, just another question. "Do you want to go ahead and get dressed?"
When she looks pointedly down at my towel-clad body, I blush and nod. "Yes please." Shay moves out of the doorway, and slowly I step out of the bathroom and into the hall. I keep my eyes low, not looking at the werewolf, as I open the door to my bedroom on the opposite wall and step inside.
Once I shut the door and lock it behind me, I drop my towel to the floor and grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from the closet. My cats appear from beneath the bed, mewing softly at me while I dress.
"I'm sorry guys, you must be hungry." I coo quietly, scratching the twins beneath their chins. Poor things have been locked up all night without food or water. The cats purr, arching into my hands, but when I stand and return to the door they withdraw back to the refuge of the bed. They obviously know Shay is still here, and her lingering presence has them scared.
The fear I can sense in my cats makes me angry. Not at them, but at Shay. My cats are innocent, and this is their home the werewolf is invading. What's worse, is that I feel unable to do anything about it. Shay had taken my side last night, saved my life. I owe her. Surely that means I can't just kick her out of my house.
Does Shay expect some sort of compensation? Is that why she's still hanging around? I'm afraid to find out.
So far Shay hasn't demanded anything of me, but we haven't said much of anything to one another, really. Existing in a strange sort of impasse. Is she waiting for me to approach her, perhaps? I certainly don't feel like making the first move to question the monster in my apartment.
Feeling trapped, I decide the best course of action is to just keep my damn mouth shut. When I leave my bedroom, I see Shay sitting quietly on a stool at the kitchen counter. I don't speak to her, don't even look at her. I Just pretend she isn't there, staring me down, as I grab some food and water for my cats. I prepare the bowls, stiff backed and silent as the dead, then march right back into my room. The litter box is moved from the bathroom in a similar, military-like fashion to accommodate them.
With my pets tended to and safe, I feel at a loss again. Now what? I'm running out of excuses to waste time, and Shay isn't leaving. Maybe it's time to finally face her. Will she think me rude for avoiding her
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