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Living alone, anxious, and between thin walls, you're used to the unease of strange nighttime sounds. Water, muffled in concrete, runs through pipes behind your headboard, and hallway floorboards creak under twelve o'clock visitors. No-pets-allowed, but dogs would bark all the same. You fall asleep to complex apartment symphonies.
You're just as used to ambient interruptions -- distant arguments, breaking glass, car horns. But these were distant. Tonight, sounds were closer.
You pull yourself from the pillow and push off the edge of the mattress, peeking around the screen dividing your bed from your kitchen. You can't quite see the couch, but you can see the [[light from the bathroom.]]At twenty-four, you've been a woman for some years now. April, now, though you knew that from the month of your birth. At-long-last never leaves you. You do your best to ignore the ghost of your teen years. They, too, never leave you. You think it must be easier for others. With no way to confirm this, you take comfort thinking that it might not be.
Two hours until he arrives, but the bus should only take one to catch him. Standing mirror before you, leaning on your accordion divider you use to pretend your studio is a house, you appraise your standing.
In the mirror, it's [[your face]], [[your shoulders]], [[your hands]], [[your eyes]], [[your chest]]. Your body turns to you.Sometimes, you see your face and surprise yourself with newfound cuteness. It's been years since you first noticed it, but the novelty of pride is still there.
Today isn't one of those days. That you stayed up cleaning your apartment is plain in the shadows under your eyes, and that you haven't shaved in a day is plain in the shadows on your chin.
You do your best to shake [[off the mirror]].Old TVs can consume a room with their sounding of high-pitched frequencies. You're reminded of these frequencies in moments where you hate yourself. You can hate yourself for being stuck in a room with a TV from thirty years ago just as easily as you can hate yourself for having man-shoulders. Stuck no matter what.
You know it's irrational dys-something, but once you know you're irrational it's hard to be anything else. Who are you supposed to trust when you can't even trust yourself? Facts as broad as bone, you hate that perception alone can make you hate at all.
You do your best to shake [[off the mirror]].You learned to hate your hands from what you read online, to scrutinize knuckle size and wrist width. This is something you don't admit to many people. You know your struggles are supposed to be internal. Once they're taught, it's all drama. You can just unlearn it.
Your nails are uneven, a product of years of nail biting. It's a bad habit, you know, but not one adults could explain out of you in your young age. The feeling of the keratin giving way beneath your teeth never lost its appeal. It's better to put that energy somewhere other than the stew of your mind, anyways.
You do your best to shake [[off the mirror]].Is it true that women can wish their breasts were bigger? You are a woman, you tell yourself, and you wish your breasts were bigger, you tell yourself. The things you tell yourself struggle towards confidence. If you have to say it to make it true, then how could it be? One plus one is two. "I'm a woman, now."
You do your best to shake [[off the mirror]].<b>You're chatting with a random stranger. Say STAND WITH HONG KONG AGAINST THE CCP!</b>
You both like furry.
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> <<linkappend "asfo?" t8n>>
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> 18 f fox bi ^.^
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> 26 m tiger straight
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> how are you doing <<linkappend "this evening?" t8n>>
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> im okay, its late where i am so im kinda sleepy >.<
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> u?
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> *gestures to my massive cock* i'm horny >:)
<<linkreplace "Stop" t8n>><<linkreplace "Really?" t8n>><b>You have disconnected.</b>
[[New|internet2]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>
<</linkappend>><</linkappend>>Sixteen, gay, and confused, you spend your evenings [[lying on the internet.]]<b>You're chatting with a random stranger. Say STAND WITH HONG KONG AGAINST THE CCP!</b>
You both like furry.
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> hiya!!
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Hey
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> how are u?
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> I've been kind of having <<linkappend "a day" t8n>>
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> a day?
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Like in a bad way
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> oh man, im sorry :(
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Eh, it's whatever
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> <<linkappend "Asfo, btw?" t8n>>
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> oh uh, 22 f fox bi
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> 19 m bull straight
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> ref: [[hllps://pawhost.org/r7ygl2|bull ref]]
<</linkappend>><</linkappend>><b>You're chatting with a random stranger. Say STAND WITH HONG KONG AGAINST THE CCP!</b>
We couldn't find anyone who shares interests with you, so we matched you with a random stranger. Try adding more interests!
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> <<linkappend "M" t8n>>
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> m
<b>Stranger has disconnected.</b>
[[New|internet4]]<</linkappend>><b>You're chatting with a random stranger. Say STAND WITH HONG KONG AGAINST THE CCP!</b>
You both like furry.
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> hi ^.^
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Howdy
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> how are u?
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> I'm good!
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> <<linkappend "You?" t8n>>
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> im okay
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> tired lol
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> im on cst so its like almost 2am
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> That's rough
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> What're you on here for?
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> just for someone to talk to or maybe rp with
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> lots of creeps on here though ;-;
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Oof yeah people on here can be [[weird|internet5]]<</linkappend>>You wake up some days and things change. You wake up others and things don't. That's life, and you learn to live it. You weren't really sure what you were doing before.
You and Carter stay friends, talking about small things often and big things sometimes. Friendships -- even ones founded on distance -- can be hard, though, and you drift apart.
April 11th, eleven days before your birthday, you receive a message on some app you don't check often anymore. Discovering the message the next day, with pleasant surprise, [[you read.|Reunion]]<b>blazewolf222</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Yesterday at 12:03 PM</span>
  Hey! Long time no see
  I'm gonna be in your city soon (still Chicago, right?)
  Doing a visit to IL
  Could I stay with you?
  Totally cool if not!!
  Just thought it'd be cool to get to hang out <<linkappend "after all these years" t8n>>
<b>coconutfactoryy</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 2:03 PM</span>
  oh geez it really has been a long time hasn't it!
  um, yeah ofc you can stay here
  if you're ok sleeping on my couch then yes! it'd be really good to see you
<b>blazewolf222</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 2:07 PM</span>
  Yesyesyes!!
  I'd love to sleep on your couch!
  I'm gonna be there in April, I'll text you [[when we get closer|Mirror]] :)
<</linkappend>><span style="color:blue">You:</span> it *is* the furry tag i guess lol
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Lmao yeah
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Speaking of, <<linkappend "asfo?" t8n>>
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> lol
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> 22 f fox bi
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> u?
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> [[17|internet6]] M wolf gay
<</linkappend>><span style="color:blue">You:</span> oh uh
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> im actually 16
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> lots of adults leave when i say that though
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> or their weird to me
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Ah yeah I get that
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> *theyre
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Most people get on here for the same reasons lol
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> But I'm gay and <<linkappend "you're a girl lmao" t8n>>
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> yeah lol
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> u seem cool though
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> You do too!!
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Would you wanna [[keep talking somewhere else?|internet7]]
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Like some other app or something
<</linkappend>><span style="color:blue">You:</span> oh sure
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> im coconutfactoryy on canal?
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> Sick I'll add you!
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> My un is kinda silly
<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> blazewolf222 lmao
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> i got ur message!
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> ill see you on there i guess 0_0
<<linkreplace "Stop" t8n>>[[Really?]]<</linkreplace>>You've seen enough pictures of muscular animal men to know the score at this point, but you think this may be the first bull. Your screen flashes dark with the imageboard. Why do sites like this feel the need to look suspicious?
The bull is the same type of salacious they all are. He's cut, shirtless, and his shorts are tighter than they should be. Black fur and red eyes, for maximum cool factor. The talent of the artist is obvious.
That's enough, you decide. [[You close the tab.|internet2.5]]<span style="color:red">Stranger:</span> You got ref?
<span style="color:blue">You:</span> no sorry
<b>Stranger has disconnected.</b>
[[New|internet3]]You've always liked the color of your eyes, and how you could look at them without looking at the rest of you. "Windows to the soul", or whatever, there was something to your eyes that was you more than the rest of your body.
A friend, once, described the sensation of getting-outside-yourself through a self-staring contest. There's no way to win a game like that, with an object of self-reflection. You find yourself compelled to play more often than you'd ever admit. At least, then, it was your choice.
You do your best to shake [[off the mirror]].Today calls for extra attention to your appearance -- not for the jetlagged audience of the airport but for Carter. Internet friends have this anticipation to them. If you dress cool enough, that's one less thing to worry about. For some reason, it isn't enough for him to have asked to see you. There's still something to prove.
You don't dress, however, such that you'll be noticed on the bus. It wouldn't be crowded, not today, but you know from watching people on the bus yourself that people watch. You try not to give them a reason.
You sit in the back of the bus. There's no need to sit near the doors when your stop is so far off. An [[older man]] sits next to his groceries on a seat behind the driver, your only companion at the start of the ride. Along the way, [[a pack of teenagers]] get on and make noise. [[Several people]] get on only to promptly get off two stops later. In busses, you notice that people sway like ocean documentary kelp. Old people are a constant on public transportation, especially for you, someone who freelances and so has no consistent hours.
Its possible you've seen this old man before. Much of the elderly busgoing population is habitual, riding the bus at the same times they have for years. You wonder if this man has been going to his grocery store for just as long, if his shopping list is the same. Maybe you'll have these habits, too, when you're old.
Before you know it, you're [[at the airport.]]It's someone's birthday, or at least one of these kids is wearing a birthday hat. Maybe it's some trend you missed, but you think that's unlikely with the amount of time you spend online. Since when did kids get so loud?
They get off somewhere downtown. A bunch of them yell "thank you" towards the bus driver. Maybe you shouldn't be too hard on them.
Before you know it, you're [[at the airport.]]Some stops are hotspots, usually when they're between tall buildings. Here, people spill on to the bus only to get off within three stops. Who knows where they're going? You've never been the type to get on the bus for just a few stops.
Before you know it, you're [[at the airport.]]Sea of a crowd -- the hazed confusion of airports is inescapable. Straight lines to get lost in, you thank heaven that you're only here to find your friend.
On the bus ride over, you had the foresight to [[ask what he'd been wearing.]]Standing up, it's clear that Carter isn't on the couch. Must be in the bathroom, then, you think. But there's a shadow in the door, large, and decidedly un-Carter.
[[You step forward.]]From the bathroom: inhuman noises. Something hard taps against stainless steel, and soft whimpering. The shadow takes on definition: large, with elbows bent thinly and closely. A trick of walls and doors keeps you from seeing into the bathroom, but you already know it can't be human. You've lived with [[dogs]] all your life. Approaching, you discover a dog appraising itself in the mirror. Paws in front, resting on the edge of the sink, like it's about to ask for something. You stop your footsteps. A dog at first is now a wolf, and so you have something to fear.
You see its face in the mirror: [[grey]], with slanted snout and yellow [[eyes]]. Because it's a mirror, [[you're there too]]. The decision to give personal contact information to an internet stranger isn't one you make often. You can count the number of times you've made it on one hand, and the number of times you've regretted it on those same fingers. But it's late. Curled in bed, phone-light in your eyes, and happy someone believes you are who you say, you don't take the time to wonder if you've made a mistake.
What you do is go to sleep. You'll message him back [[tomorrow]].<b>blazewolf222</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 2:37 AM</span>
  <<linkappend "Hey!" t8n>>
<b>coconutfactoryy</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 9:03 AM</span>
  hi!
  sorry for not responding i got sleepy
<b>blazewolf222</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 9:03AM</span>
  No worries
  But I thought for a sec you were dodging me
  I just realized we didn't do names!
  I'm <<linkappend "Carter" t8n>>
<b>coconutfactoryy</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 9:07 AM</span>
  oh you can call me April
  carter is a nice name!
<b>blazewolf222</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 9:08AM</span>
  I think April is a nice name, too [[:)|Passage]]
<</linkappend>>
<</linkappend>>The wolf is the color of stormclouds, of concrete and mountains. Its fur ruffled, you remember when you read that wolves could have manes, too.
You see the fur in its neck shift, the wolf twisting itself towards you. [[Maybe it wonders about your colors, too.|Pushed away]]Your father once told you that dogs don't cry when you noticed tears in your beagle's eyes. Something about it being the way they keep their eyes clean. If you hadn't known this, if you didn't know better, you might think that the wolf was crying. Portraited in the mirror, the teary-eyed wolf seemed painterly.
It turns to you, and suddenly it's not alone, framed. [[And you're with him.|Pushed away]]You catch yourself, appearing just past the animal in front of you. You notice your pajamas don't seem to fit before you think that thought seems ill-timed.
The wolf turns to mirror-you then to you-you, and its eyes widen, pupils big. Though you were in the mirror with him, now you are [[real with him.|Pushed away]]He drops his paws from the sink and slinks towards you, paw after paw after paw. Your feet, backwards, match his pace. Step after paw after step. You know you can't do this forever, the apartment only being so long. Paw after step after paw, up against the wall. You put your hands out to stop it, eyes closed.
You feel the familiar wetness of animal nose against your hands before he shoves them aside. Seven again, it was like when you gave your dog pets but he actually wanted to go outside. Refusal. The wolf's footsteps trail back [[towards the bathroom]]. You open your eyes and catch the wolf kneading your shower mat before taking its seat. Ears up, eyes fixed, obviously alert. You finally have a moment to wonder. Where might Carter be?
It doesn't seem like he's left. You look to your right, and his backpack is still there on the chair. The couch is set up with the pillow you gave him. Everything points to him sleeping here. Looking towards the wolf one more time, you notice fabric on the floor, orange and blue and all the colors that Carter wore. It's suddenly easy to consider that [[the dog ahead of you]] might be Carter. <b>coconutfactoryy</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 3:14 PM</span>
  hey
  what r u wearing?
  not in a phone sex way lol
<b>coconutfactoryy</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 3:17 PM</span>
  oh wait ur on a plane and can't text back
  nvm lol
<b>blazewolf222</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 3:20 PM</span>
  Oh I actually do have wifi
  Kinda nuts
  We're living in the future fr
  I have an [[orange hoodie]] on? That's probably the most identifiable thing about me
You wait until 4PM, five minutes past his landing time, to survey the crowd exiting Arrivals. In that crowd there's [[orange]], [[orange]], [[orange]], and [[orange]].You wonder if you should have worn your glasses today as you try to pick Carter out from the throng. You figure he's not this child that runs by, mother barelling behind him, though the child wears an orange jacket. More orange; Carter wouldn't call a shirt a hoodie, would he?
Your [[phone buzzes.]]You follow signs for coffee shops and watch for waving hands, wondering why airports never seem to have maps. [[Your phone, again.]]<b>blazewolf222</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 4:08 PM</span>
  My arm got tired T_T
  The shop has a yellow sign
  It's just called [[Coffee Shop]]
  Kind of a suspicious name lolYou look for a yellow sign and an orange man and you find them. The moment before approaching someone thrills. Gathering your confidence, you step towards Carter and his orange hoodie.
"Hi, um, Carter?"
The man looks back at you and smiles. "Oh! April?"
"Yeah." He smiles again, bigger.
"It's nice to see you!" You remember the bus schedule.
"I'd love to stand here and talk but I think the bus might be coming soon. Can we walk?"
"Definitely!" He blinks. "I like the outfit."
"Thanks," and you blink, "we should go."
[[He starts walking first.|The Bus]]Breaking the ice is hard, even when you've known someone through text for years. You know all about each other but the barrier is still there. Luckily, you made room for this. You didn't ask all your questions.
"So, what brings you to Chicago?" Carter looks up from his phone. The back of the bus is empty, otherwise you'd be on yours too. Talking is hard enough, strangers might make it impossible.
"My boyfriend lives in Rockford, so that's why I'm in Illinois," he pulls his backpack to his chest. "As for Chicago, this was the cheapest airport. And, also, you're here!" You nod along.
"Long distance, huh? Have you met before?" Carter shakes his head, his shaggy hair swaying a second behind his nose.
"Nope. But we've been dating for three months online."
"Oh. Gay shit?" It's his turn to nod, and laugh.
"Yeah dude. Gay shit."
[[Your apartment is just a few stops away.]]Your keys make metal noise as you push them back into your pocket. Using them next to Carter, you wonder for the first time how you acquired so many when you only live here.
"So, this is my place." You open the door and gesture like a magician, head bowed. "After you." He catches on to your bit, and claps.
"Thank you, thank you. I'm excited to be here."
Your studio isn't much, and is even less to share, but you're happy he's here.
"You can put your stuff on the desk," you point to the left, "and your sleeping arrangements are on the right," and you point thusly. The couch is just long enough for you to lay on when your bed isn't quite right. You hope Carter isn't as tall as he seems. "The kitchen's over there, and you probably noticed the TV. The door next to it is the bathroom. And you probably already noticed my bedroom, too." You walk over to sit on it and spread your arms widely. "Make yourself comfortable!" Your palms become fists, and your arms fall.
He puts his backpack on the desk chair, and throws his duffel bag over the back of [[the couch.]]He sits down. You stand up so you can see past the divider you use to demarcate a bedroom.
"So, what do you wanna get up to?" you ask. "And when do you have to leave?"
"I'm kind of up for anything, I dunno. And my train leaves from Union Station at 2PM tomorrow so I guess we don't have long."
You think of things to do but don't have many. It's getting late, too. "Do you wanna watch a movie? Or something like that. I'd suggest going out but um," you remember that you thought about this already, "there isn't much to do around here."
He agrees to the movie. "I'm tired, anyways," he says. You'd worry more that he's disappointed in you and your dullness, but you're honestly just as tired as he says he is.
You put on something stupid, and remember how you used to share links to bad movies with each other as teenagers. He laughs when you do. The TV flashes [[red, green, and blue.]] "I think I'm gonna go to bed," yawns Carter as the credits start to roll. "We should try to get up early so we can hang out more."
You agree, and you head your separate ways to get ready for bed. Before long, your head hits the pillow. You look up at the ceiling and wonder if Carter is comfortable on the couch.
[[The inside of your eyelids.|WokenUp]]Tension runs through you as you edge closer to the bathroom door, taking care to keep noise low. Carter wouldn't eat you, at least not normally, but there's no harm in trying to keep things easy. You sit on the couch, lowering yourself with a hand on the left side armrest, then begin to pat in a rhythym of nines, a habit you picked up from living with a former roommate's cat. You speak softly in the way that nervous people do.
"Hey, Carter? Do you want to come out here?"
You notice him perk up at the name. Surprised to be recognized, you think. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and nine.
"It's okay, I'm okay. Do you want to sit on the couch with me?"
The wolf, Carter, pushes up and shakes his shoulders. He barks once, on the downbeat of your rhythm, and [[joins you.]]Is it weird to want to pet your friend? If he's a dog, and that dog is a wolf. If that wolf even is your friend. The human person is already dog person, you wouldn't be creating that. If there weren't a person in there, you'd have no hesitation. But it's different.
He fell asleep next to you, after you put something on the TV to try to fascimilate a sense of normalcy. In his sleep, you can finally get a good look at him. As good a look as you can get in the shifting light of the television, anyways.
His [[fur]] is matted, and darker around his eyes and ears. His size was obvious from the moment you encountered him, but even more apparent as he takes up enough of your couch for you to need to curl up against the armrest. His [[ears]] point up while sleeping, too -- always ready to listen. And he lays with his [[paws]] crossed, claws sharp.
Dogs never look comfortable when they sleep -- they don't have the bodies for it. At least, you were never a side sleeper. Fur on most animals reminds you of brushstrokes down their back. Extending the metaphor, this wolf is impressionist, messier to your eye but just as deep. Something in you twitches your hand. You wished that you could pull out the mats for him, something to make it easier. Were those tears in his eyes, in the mirror?
There must be something wrong with you. The sun is rising. You know you should [[go to bed.]]Ears are to dogs what hair is to humans. At least, you think so. For the first time, you see that one of his ears flops lower than the other, only slightly. Wolf ears are pointed, after all. A young man's haircut, you almost reach out to fix it for him.
There must be something wrong with you. The sun is rising. You know you should [[go to bed.]]Paw beans are so frequently abstracted that seeing them in real life is always a surprise. Through either socially-engineered desire, or lizard-brained instinct, your nerves itch to poke them.
There must be something wrong with you. The sun is rising. You know you should [[go to bed.]]Dog snores take you to sleep.
When you wake, the sun is out. This would feel normal if it weren't also out when you fell asleep. Groggy, you mimic your wakeup routine from just hours before. Part of you is sure you'd dreamed, that the wolf didn't appear in your house. But you remember a full movie you watched, shocking clarity for a dream. Maybe that part of you wasn't sure, but wishing.
You peek, again, around the screen dividing your bed from your kitchen. You can't quite see [[the couch]], and there is no more light from the bathroom. You'd turned it off.You walk over, half expecting an animal on your couch. Half correct, you think, before stepping back to where you can't see the couch anymore. Humans are animals, and on your couch is a naked Carter, sleeping on his side, hands crossed by his head.
You pick up your phone. It's 2:14 PM. You grab a blanket for Carter and lay it across him before moving into the kitchen. You decide to make [[something substantial.]]Eggshells on the countertop, bread bag open to the side. Precious vanilla back where you found it. French toast seemed like a good enough call. You hope he likes eggs, that he isn't vegetarian. A vegetarian wolf would be something. You chastise yourself for thinking him a dog.
"Oh shit..." Rustling from the couch. You see Carter get up.
"Good morning." You're unsure what else you can say.
"April," he blinks, "what time is it?"
"It's um, after 2PM," you stop stirring your bowl. "You missed your train after I'd already woken up." That you're not good at bad news is visceral. "I'm sorry."
"Fuck." He drags the "u".
"Carter?" You hesitate to ask, but the words are already in your throat. "What was that wolf last night?"
[[He shrinks.]]
You eat, one person across from another.
You open your laptop to schedule new train tickets.
8PM, he heads off for the station himself, but not before you say goodbye.
"Thank you for coming to see me."
"And thank you for having me."He starts. "I saw a big dog one day. Maybe a wolf, maybe a coyote. who's to say. I'm the only one who saw it. It was late, I was in my front yard. Coming home from some party. Jenna's house? [[Anyways.]]""I can't describe how it moved other than 'it lurched'. It lurched the way old lecherous men do. Like a homophobe, or a racist. And just the same way I knew it wanted to eat me. Dogs have round eyes. [[This dog's eyes]] captured the full moon in its pupils.""I moved unsuddenly, unsoundingly. I've never wanted to startle anything less than this animal. Part of me, I think , knew I didn't have much of a chance. That's the part of me that decided to start running. It's also the part of me that realized that I lost [[my keys.]] I think it was the dumbass in me.""Dog teeth slipped into my arm. I could feel them as deep as my bones. I was on my porch. I screamed. I don't know if my mom knew it was my scream of whose, but seconds later she was outside, too. That dog left somewhere between my arm bite and [[the door opening.]]""I don't know what was more embarrassing -- bleeding out on the porch, or getting caught coming back from Mary's." He blinks, and mutters. "That's who it was. Mary's."
"God," all you can say.
"Since then things happen. I wake up strange places, my clothes get torn. Fur on my bed. Things I can't explain," he sighs. "You'd think it'd be cool but the novelty wears on you. And no one believes you."
He moved towards the bathroom, holding the blanket up in his hands. "I'm gonna get dressed." He reaches down for the duffel bag on the floor. "Back in a second."
"Oh uh, I made french toast. For when you're back."
[[He nods.]]You make your toast and wait for him to emerge from the bathroom. He does, and sits at your two-seat table. You pass him a toast.
"There's egg in that. I forgot to ask if you were allergic."
"I would have said something," he sits in silence for a moment. You can tell he wants to say something, and so you let him. "When I'm the wolf," he starts, "I'm someone between me-and-not-me." You understand this, being able to measure the distance between you and not-you in years and days.
You sit, and he sits, and think about [[what happens next.|The End]]<b>blazewolf222</b> <span style="font-size:12px">Today at 4:04 PM</span>
  Hey I'm by an elevator. There's a [[coffee shop]] here too
  I'm just gonna stand here and constantly wave