Chapter Text
You were a freak. Metaphorically speaking, of course, but that seemed to the general consensus over the course of your life. An antisocial weirdo that had “way-too-childish” interests. It wasnt that you hated people. In fact, you always strived to see the beauty in absolutely everything. People just didn’t really understand you right away, and don't ever seem to want to take the time to. When you were a kid, you always thought something was wrong with you, and changed yourself around other people so they’ll like you. Nowadays, through years of turmoil and self hatred, you decided enough is enough. If people didn't want to know you, you’ll know yourself. However, that's something easier said than done. Although, it was made tremendously easier by the incredible support system you somehow stumbled into, and a safe space you had found for yourself.
You started small, embracing old hobbies and childhood loves, lost due to being “cringe.” Who is anyone else to decide if something should make you happy? Besides, there are whole communities of people who share your interests, so many other people like you. Recently, a large part of your self discovery has been connecting to the earth. You felt that it's important to love your home, and to feel how the earth loves you. The feeling of soft grass, or a cold stream, even gazing up at the moon. You weren’t sure why, but once you started to appreciate what was already all around you, you could feel the love radiating back at you. It sounds cliche, but you would never give up this exceptional warmth. Every chance you got, you were at a small local creek, taking in the natural beauty. It was nestled behind an old abandoned elementary school, surrounded by trees and quiet, excluding the fading sounds of the passing cars. Though today, on a suspiciously warm day for autumn, it felt different. It felt like someone was watching you.
Wilbur was a freak.
Through and through, he had no doubts about it. He never seemed to understand his place in society, and neither did anyone else. He never liked the way he was perceived from a young age, and no one ever seemed to understand his discomfort. It wasn't that he felt like he was in the wrong body, but that everyone else insisted he is something he is not. His deep love for things said to be “masculine” had him deemed a “troubled tomboy” from the very beginning. When his parents found out he was more than just a tomboy, it was a disaster. He spent his teen years couch hopping and trying desperately to keep a steady job. As things started to stabilise, his life flipped upside down for seemingly the millionth time. His body was changing, a wanted second puberty and an unwanted, unexplainable transformation. He didn't know how, or why it had happened. In layman's terms, he's a werewolf. it sounds stupid, something he’d say as a kid to feel more affirmed in himself. Trying to do research proved more confusing than anything. Most sources say that, without a doubt, a “lycanthrope” is an entirely mythical being. Intense emotions brought on a ghoulish change, and the only place he ever felt safe enough to calm down was the woods. He'd stay out late, just to watch the moon. Sometimes it felt like it talked to him, knowing just what to say to sooth the raging fire in his heart.
Today, as his large, wolfy body crashes into the woods, he notices something different. Smells it first, and after quickly taking in the familiar sight of a stream running through the edge of the forest, he spots you. Laying on a large flat rock in the sun, feet lying lazily in the water. He keeps his body low to the ground, not wanting to alert you that he was there. He feels a different kind of anger fill him in your presence. This was his spot, his woods, and he had certainly never seen you here before. Though you’re dozing off in the hot sun, and don't seem dangerous, he can never be too sure. Normally, when people pass through this creek, it's destructive. Smashing plants with zero remorse, and leaving behind whatever filth they please. Those people, he takes great delight in chasing them away with reckless abandon. He's never hurt anyone, but he doesn't really need to. A singular giant wolf in the woods is usually deterrent enough. But you were just laying there, not causing disruptions, no trash all around you. Just taking in the supreme warmth of his favourite place. He wearily stalks forward, trying his hardest to avoid crunching leaves and continuing to watch you from the other side of the creek. His paw snaps a branch, so cliche, he thinks, and catches your attention. He drops onto the ground again to make himself smaller. You clearly heard the noise, but don't seem very alarmed.
You lift yourself up, leaning back on one elbow, while your other hand lifts to block the sun from your eyes. It was just a branch, and you’re used to different animals bounding their way through the foliage, but you like to be sure. Besides, it never hurts to spot a deer, or maybe even a rabbit. You look around to the best of your ability, but don't see anything. There’s still an uneasy feeling of surveillance settled in your chest, so maybe it's time to stop basking like a lizard. Sitting up fully, you give your limbs a good stretch. Now seems as good a time as any to go explore the familiar wilderness. You’ve walked down this stream enough times to rarely see anything new, but you like to go knock down rock stacks before you leave. You've always hated how poorly people seem to treat this place, but thanks to you, and others like you, it stays serene. Standing up and lifting your feet out of the water, you make sure to remember the bag you had brought with you, and slip on your shoes.
You take your time walking along the bank of the river, looking around leisurely to spot anything out of the ordinary. Only making it a few paces from the large flat rocks, you make eye contact with something. A little glint in the riverbed, sitting on its side, practically waiting for you it seemed. You bend down to pick it out of the silty sand, squatting to get a good look and gently wading it through the water to clean it up a bit. It's a small carving of a deer, made out of some kind of dark and shiny rock. Its right antler is broken off, but you don't spot it in the surrounding area. As you proceed to inspect the carving closer, trying to figure out what kind of rock it may be, there's a rustling of leaves from across the water. Whipping your head up to peer in front of you, it's strangely, in the exact same spot as the noise from before. Standing again and squinting to see through the brush, you make eye contact with something else this time. something alive.
He had to make a decision, and quickly. You’ve spotted him, and he has to decide whether to let you stay, or to chase you far away from his safe place. At the moment, he's leaning towards the latter, wanting to selfishly keep his one piece of serenity all to himself. He stands up from behind the foliage that was once covering his large form, maybe you’ll make the decision for him. He can see your eyes widen, can smell your breathing stop upon seeing him, surely it's just a matter of time before you run away screaming. Your body is still, just staring at him, never breaking the eye contact. He knows it's unusual to see a single wolf, and judging by your unmoving reaction, you are unsure how to handle the situation. Part of him wants you to stay, wants the peace of mind knowing he's not completely alone. Another part doesn't want him to take that risk of someone knowing him. The sound of crinkling breaks him out of his thoughts, then a strong scent wafting over from you. He sees you pulling a piece of thinly sliced lunch meat from a small plastic bag out of your crossbody bag. Why do you have meat? You don't ever break from his eyes as you roll the meat into a little ball and toss it at him, smacking against his leg and landing in front of him. He sniffs the air, and recognises its turkey. Unseasoned and seemingly boiled, surely you weren't intending to eat this. Did you really carry around meat, just to throw at animals? He just didn't understand you, you were getting stranger by the minute. Though he stayed staring at you, the scent of the bland scraps were somehow getting his stomach to growl. He leans his head down to eat the meat, swallowing the small bit without chewing. He didn't need to savour it, he knew the flavour would be shit.
You watch him patiently as he moves to look at you again. You knew the best course of action for large predators at a distance, but being this close, you had no idea what to do. Feeding it was absolutely not the right decision in a typical situation, but this animal was so intriguing to you. You assumed he had been here for a while, having only revealed himself to you upon your discovery of him, but you couldn’t figure out why. He could easily overpower you. No reason to stalk you, and from across a river, no less. He was a beautiful deep reddish brown, fur becoming a dark umber at the tips of his extremities. The light trickling through the trees leaves flowing speckles of caramel. He was huge, not very muscular but definitely taller than an average wolf. Now that you think about it, what was he doing out here all by himself? At least, you hope he's by himself. You stare at each other for what is, realistically, 30 seconds, but feels like impatient minutes. You watch him take a deep breath, letting out a sigh with an almost annoyed expression. He's the one to break eye contact as he turns around to stalk away.
Once you’re sure he's gone, you stand to a little taller than your full height. Up on your toes trying to get a glimpse of him as he walks away, you don't see any hint he was even there. Probably best to get home anyway.