Chapter One
A wolf and a coyote ran side-by-side up a rock-covered hill along a river, striding together
beneath a large, luminescent moon. For hours they romped, careless on an idyllic night, as though they
were determined to cover as much ground as they could before the sun rose again.
The silhouettes were barely differentiable from one another even from a fairly close distance,
but to the trained eye, something would seem very wrong. Coyotes and wolves didn't tend to get along
in nature. On rare occasion, a desperate male and a similarly desperate female of different species
would breed, but that had never happened in these parts of the world, as it was well known that there
were no coyotes.
How, then, did a wolf and a coyote manage to befriend one another in this territory, despite the
land being completely devoid of coyotes? The explanation to the mystery was that the wolf wasn't
actually a simple wolf, nor was the coyote simply a coyote.
The wolf and coyote were humans named Meso and Yotal, respectively. More specifically,
Meso was the son of a butcher, and Yotal was the son of a baker, and each had learned to function after
sacrificing no small amount of sleep for the chance to roam freely across the untamed countryside.
As the morning began to dawn, they made their way back home. Specifically, there was a grove
along the river on which the town was built. Along around the outskirts of their small town, the grove
was where the canines would leave their clothes prior to shifting forms.
This time, however, the pair faced a conundrum; the two piles of clothes that they had expected
to find had gone missing without a trace—not even a scent trail.
Meso shot a look at the coyote, and took initiative quickly, sniffing at the air and the ground in
hopes of picking up some clue of what had happened.
The wolf was at a loss. Perhaps there had been some error, and he'd forgotten that they'd left
their clothing elsewhere? But Yotal looked just as puzzled, and searched the premises just as
expectantly. They couldn't both have forgotten.
This posed a problem; neither boy owned more than three sets of clothing, with one for leisure,
one for church, and one for work. Having donned their most comfortable outfits upon the completion of
their workdays, they had a great deal to lose if they headed home naked, forsaking their garments and
risking detection and thereby putting themselves in peril of the horrible punishments society reserved
for such indecent folk.
Before Meso's nose could pick out the scent for which it searched, he heard a thud behind him.
Both canines turned around to face its source.
They saw a tall, rangy boy, who appeared to be a little older than either of them, with
dusty-brown hair and cold blue eyes. In one hand, he held Meso's clothes, and in the other, Yotal's
clothes.
"You were looking for these, I would think," he said. "Baker's son. Butcher's son. I know who
you are. Speak with me, now that I've caught you in your beast forms."
Yotal looked to Meso, a tentative look in his eyes, and Meso hardened his resolve. The wolf
bared his teeth at the boy, growled a few short bursts, and pointed a front paw at the bundle of clothing
in the boy's left hand.
"What you're trying to tell me, then, is that you were stupid. You sneaked out, left your clothes
where you thought no one would dare to go, and were content without a backup plan when you can't
even talk as dogs," he said. His voice was almost monotone, and would've been completely devoid of
expression were it not for a hint of irritation. "So now you want me to give your clothes back, just like
that, when I have you at my mercy."
The boy dug picked through the piles of clothes slowly and carefully while the wolf stood still
and the coyote stayed far back. He eventually fished out two undergarments, which he held by two
fingers, contacting the cloth as little as he could manage to, repulsed by the objects he touched.
"You're not getting any more than these until we've conversed, though I'm already quite
underwhelmed by this encounter," the boy groused, throwing the clothing to the canines. "Return when
you're able to speak."
This stranger's attitude and demeanor didn't settle well with Meso. Astute as this boy seemed,
he spoke harshly and seemed to insist on making things difficult. Apart from that, the boy had assumed
control of the situation, which Meso resented straight away.
The wolf growled and continued to step slowly forward, past the tossed undergarments. Yotal,
understanding his friend's sentiment completely, growled as well, and moved around to flank the boy.
"I won't be giving you anything more until I've had a word with you, or you'll run off on me, as
if I can't find both of you in the daytime. Also, I don't suggest hostilities," the boy warned. From within
his jacket, he withdrew a foot-long blade, which he held close to his core, lest the canines make any
sudden moves at him. "This thing is sharper than it probably seems. I'm aware that you're not pushovers,
and I doubt that my build intimidates you much, if at all. For now, just know that I have a blade, and if
that isn't threat enough, know that I have power to send you both to a terrible, fiery death."
Yotal rolled his eyes, unamused, but Meso took the threats seriously. The wolf didn't want to
comply with the impudent boy, but playing by his terms seemed to be the only way to give a piece of
his mind, so Meso knew he would have to revert to human form if he wished to communicate.
His ire kindled, the wolf took his underwear into a shrouding of plants a few paces away,
prompting the coyote to follow and do the same. They returned moments later, fully human, albeit
scantily clad. A scowl was on one's face and an curious expression rested on the other.
As humans, they weren't too terribly different from their canine forms.
Meso was of roughly average height, lean and slender of build, with hair as black as his wolf
form's fur and nearly-black eyes to match, which was the one noticeable dissimilarity between his
forms; as a wolf, Meso's eyes were light green.
Yotal was roughly the same height as Meso, but with a broader frame, straw-colored hair, and
large, expressive, gray-blue eyes.
"I assume these forms can talk. Much better," the boy remarked. "Now, as for introductions..."
"We're not dogs," Meso interjected, causing a puzzled expression to emerge on the boy's face.
"That's what you called us. Dogs. Don't do it again."
A trace of a smirk formed on the boy's face, and a glint emerged in his eyes.
"And what if I don't comply? What if I think all you canines are the same?" he asked.
