The Wolf with a Red Scarf

Chapter 3

The next morning, Wexler awoke to the texture of a wooden floor. But then immediately realized his bedroom had carpeted floors.

Standing on two feet, he felt the strange clothes he was wearing, along with sniffing his surroundings. There was a bit of instant relief when he felt the scarf still loosely around his neck, but it was short lived when a loud horn startled him nearby.

It took a moment for Wexler to recollect his memories of the previous night. Just as quickly as that primal side of Cassius appeared, it disappeared once he agreed to never leave a couple more times.

After that, the usual Cassius was back, showcasing the nearest town and how there was a place nearby to stay. Still pretty fazed by the previous events, Wexler agreed, but was now beginning to regret his decision.

With his skin itching against the strange fabric his shirt was made of, Wexler almost tore it off when hearing the loud honking again.

"Yeah! Yeah! I'll be there in a minute!" He heard a female voice shout from above, followed by hurried steps.

After getting the scratchy fabric off of himself, Wexler exited the room he was in to get away from the incessant honking. He gathered it was a car impatiently waiting for someone within the house.

Sniffing his way around, he mainly seeked Cassius' scent. Easily finding him in a living area down the hall.

"Ah! You're awake!" He chirped, sitting at a table, "Come sit down. Pete's about to bring breakfast in here."

Pete was the owner of the home they were currently in. He was a farmer, like most of the humans in this small valley. More concerned with protecting his livestock and land than political affairs, he had different reasonings to ally with werewolf kind.

More familiar with Robyn, Pete was a bit surprised to find the two in his barn the night before. But helped them nonetheless. Knowing Robyn would do the same for his own children.

But Wexler was always so wary. Looking for enemies, even if they didn't exist. As he kept a cautious ear on the clattering kitchen nearby.

Taking a seat at a circular table, Wexler sat beside Cassius. One of his ears facing the direction of the clinking sliverware, which began to be intruded by descending footsteps.

"Millie! Come grab some breakfast!" Pete yelled from the kitchen, as more honking ensued from the front of the house.

"Can't dad! I'm already running late!" The female voice from before, known as Millie, bursted out of a door.

With that departure, the constant honking finally ended, leading Wexler's tense self to somewhat relax. Taking a cup of coffee Cassius offered, he soon smelled Pete entering the room with platters of food.

"Alright! I have eggs, bacon, biscuits, and grits!" Pete set the platters on the center of the table.

Aware of Wexler's condition, he continued by explaining where everything was placed. Being as considerate as one host could, while disregarding the blatant tension Wexler held for him.

Cassius was a bit wary about this, keeping an eye on Wexler as he ate. But decided to not speak on the matter. Knowing this mainly had to do with Wexler's distrust of anyone outside the pack. He was lucky to have him silent and acting somewhat decently.

"So, I'm guessing you didn't like the sweater?" Pete laughed, after taking a few bites. Shaking his head, Wexler stuffed a biscuit in his mouth to avoid speaking. Causing Pete to roar with laughter, "Not much of a talker, but at least your honest!"