MAN & MONSTER

bouquet

"I can't believe it," sighed his eldest brother once, watching him accept a pawful of flowers while stammering profusely. "That you've found someone before me..."

Admittedly, that sentiment had rung true for Laplace as well.

He was small, on the werewolf side of things, and had an odd, light-coloured coat that curled and stuck up when there was so much as a sniff of humidity in the air. He wasn't keen on running through the forests and keeping up with his pack, nor did he particularly care about play-fights or territory claiming. He was a helpless romantic, an artist, content to sketch the phases of the moon or murmur poetry to himself while pacing the den. He was a frequent visitor to the town library, passionate about the arts and knowledge thereof.

Glaw had come out of nowhere, tall and dark-haired with fierce eyes. Laplace had seen him from a distance several times, as one did when living in the same small town, and knew him vaguely as the fellow who worked in the mayor's office. What he did there, he wasn't certain of, but Glaw's features were striking and, when they had matched eyes on more than one occasion... he'd stared so hard that Laplace worried he'd been in trouble.

Quite the opposite, thankfully.

But he nearly had a heart attack when Glaw approached him boldly that beautiful autumn day and, with his valley Welsh accent, offered him flowers and solemnly asked him to allow Glaw to court him.

"I was so embarrassed," Laplace muttered, months and months after the fact.

Glaw, who had been combing through the thick fur at the back of the werewolf's neck, paused and chuckled with amusement. "Oh?"

"I'd never thought... and, I mean, the whole family was right there..."

"I thought it rather smart to do," Glaw replied with another low laugh. "I wanted your family to know."

"Where on earth did you get that confidence?"

Glaw fingered a chunk of light-blond fur in contemplation, humming. If Laplace looked back, he was certain that Glaw's eyes were crinkled, as if that hid his smile. "It weren't hard," he said. "Was rather determined to get your attention, I was. That took away any sort of nerves."

"I think I'd like that kind of nerve," Laplace sighed. "Imagine... choosing the smallest, weakest werewolf of the whole pack!"

"You were beautiful," Glaw murmured, his tone warm with reminiscent feelings. "First time I saw you, I thought so. Though I rather thought you looked like a pastry at the same time."

When the werewolf jerked in indignation, Glaw laughed at him and gently tousled his fur.

"Compliment, 'tis a compliment, my lovely," he assured him. "Don't you like getting eaten up from time to time?"

Laplace wheezed with embarrassment, but had nothing more to say when Glaw circled around him, playfully skritched underneath his chin with a finger, then leaned down to kiss the side of his muzzle.