Page 4 of The Lone Wolf Café
I peeked out the alleyway. There were still humans lurking around, which I found odd since they didn’t have night vision like I did. Too many humans to plan an escape.
I groaned, leaning against the wall and resting my head against the cool siding. I needed a plan, otherwise I would be stuckhiding in this human town all night in a vulnerable half-wolf state.
Craning my neck, I glanced around the corner again. The building I was leaning against was a tiny shack squeezed between two larger restaurants. It was single-story, painted a dark navy-blue, and had a large wraparound porch jammed full of clothing racks.
As I crept closer, I noticed it was very unusual clothing. At least, for humans it was. To me, the clothing was similar to what we werewolves wore on Hollenboro. Perched in front of the porch, next to the mailbox, was a chipped wooden sign that readMainely Mystical Wares.
I let out an audible snort. Not only had I seen far too many Maine puns in this town, but it was a bold move for a witch to be openly selling their goods in the midst of human society.
The porch was dark, which gave me enough cover to hide my ears and tail as I rifled through the clothing. Racks full of corsets, cloaks, and even pointy witch hats, which at first made me feel sick to my stomach.
Then I remembered.It’s October. The one time of year where magical beings don’t get persecuted for peddling their goods.
I stood on the tips of my toes, peering over the display racks and through the shop’s lattice front windows. The interior was lit with warm orange candles, and the shelves were jammed full of statues, crystals, and herbs. My ears perked up, and amidst the Celtic folk music and muffled conversation, I heard the distinct rustling footsteps of a lone customer. Footsteps that were gettingveryclose to the front door.
It was mere seconds until they would walk outside and spot me.
I wracked my brain for answers. My shaking hands scrambled through the rack until I found the item I’d been admiring earlier – a thick chocolate-brown cloak. It was long enough to hide mytail, and had a large hood to cover my ears. I could sneak past the humans and flee this town without being caught.
My stomach soured. I hated stealing. Growing up on a small island, we always took care of each other, treating one another with as much kindness and respect as possible. Not only did we need to work together to survive, but everyone knew everyone else’s business. If someone stole something on the island, it wouldn’t stay stolen for long.
But here, my safety was at risk. I didn’t know how human society would react if they caught a werewolf snooping around, and I didn’t want to find out.
I ripped the cloak off the rack, causing its plastic hanger to go flying across the porch, and sprinted down the main road just as the front door to the witch’s shop cracked open.
They would find the hanger on the porch and know something had been stolen. Even in my human form, I had far more strength and speed than non-magical beings. After a few minutes of running, I was already almost back to the pier, struggling to wrangle the stolen cloak over my head.
Once it was finally on, I breathed a sigh of relief. The cloak was made of a thick, fuzzy material, and its warmth immediately calmed the uncomfortable goosebumps dotting my skin.
With my ears and tail now covered – they still hadn’t disappeared, damn them – I could walk calmly down the dark waterfront, blending in among the few pedestrians braving the chilly sea air to admire the ocean. The further I went, the fewer bits of human society I saw, until I was mostly surrounded by pine forest. As I walked, my only company was the occasional passing car or cabin porch light. It was rural. Quiet. Just like Hollenboro.
Without the streetlamps and storefronts illuminating the night sky, I was surrounded by nearly pitch-black darkness. A deep nausea sank into my gut when I realized that despite my wolfishsenses, I was lost. On Hollenboro, I knew the forests and beaches and jagged rock coastlines as well as I knew myself. I could close my eyes and tell exactly where I was just by the scent on the wind.
But here was uncharted territory. I had night vision and a superior sense of smell, yet I knew nothing of this area or what awaited me deeper in the woods.
I raised my nose just as an autumn breeze – as sharp and biting as a wolf’s teeth – swept across my face and made my cloak billow gently behind me. My fluffy red tail peeked out between my layers of clothing, and I sighed, closing my eyes and inhaling the scent of the wind.
Salt and sea, mixed with autumn and pine.
It was perfect.
Maine would always be special to me, no matter what part of the world I ended up in. I would find a way to not just survive, but thrive.
I had to.
Because there was no returning to the fate that awaited me on Hollenboro.
I checked for onlookers, ensured all my goods were packed away, and shrugged off my human form for fur, teeth, and claws. It happened in an instant, a metamorphosis so quick and fluid it was hard to catch the details.
I shook my thick fur coat and adjusted my feet. I was much shorter now, on four swift legs instead of two, with my clothes and other belongings magically tucked away for when I would eventually shift back into my human form.
But for now, my humanity was gone. I was no longer a magical runaway. Instead, I was just an ordinary wolf in a pine forest, in desperate need of a cozy den and a fresh rabbit meal.
I took off at a fast canter through the woods. It was thick, dark, and dense, with the bristly trunks of pine trees clouding myvision. I wove through them with ease, not so much as scraping my fur on their bark.
I felt at peace.
Even if this wasn’t my forest.
