The King's Rogue

Ch 2 Brother

I needed a break from Michael's house, and it was too early to hit the college. I stopped at a small local park I'd found to stretch my legs. There were a few moms with small children at the playground, and a guy jogging on the circular trail around the park.

I liked this park. It had a small pond, and a dense clump of bushes that hid both my bike and my shifting. I gave myself a shake and headed over to the picnic tables on four legs to see if anyone left anything good behind. I found a small bag of chips, probably dropped by one of the kids. I wasn't beyond nabbing the free snack. Being on my own like this brought back old feelings from my childhood. I had resorted to begging back then. I would survive, I thought fiercely, sending the stab of self pity I had felt packing. I had maintained my personal dignity through much worse. I wasn't going to wallow in despair now.

I had one paw on the bag, reaching my other paw up to rip the bag open as if I still had two hands instead of four paws. The man who had been jogging was on a nearby bench, taking a break. He let out a chuckle, gaining my attention. He had light brown skin, but didn't look like a black guy. He wore odd looking, slipper-like shoes. I'd never seen anyone like him in the city. He didn't look like he was from India or the Middle East either. I wondered where he called home. He had this amused little smile on his face as he watched me. I stared at him, unblinking, as I brought my fangs down and ripped the bag apart. Potato chips scattered across the ground. I ate them anyway, enjoying each and every last crumb.

"Well done, brother," the man laughed from his bench. "I wish there was a hotdog vendor around, I'd get you a right proper meal. You just might have to settle for rabbit or squirrel, if you can catch one."

I shook my head at him and loped away, heading toward the pond for a drink. As long as people mistook me for a large, friendly dog, I didn't care how they talked to me. I had played with some kids the day before. At least the man didn't do baby talk at me like the kids had.

The wind shifted and I caught an odor on the sudden breeze. The man was up and moving again, coming around to flank me, trapping me between him and the pond. I could swear I smelled wolf on him. I took off running for real, leaving my bike behind. Better safe than sorry, I figured.

He laughed as he put on a burst of speed, moving to pace me, running easily on his two feet across from me.

"Slow down little brother, so we can talk for a moment," he called out as he slowed. I slowed as well. I kept moving in a big circle until I was close enough to him to hear, but far enough away to avoid his grasp if he tried to lunge for me.

There was nothing but humor in him; a good-natured friendliness I didn't know what to do with.

"Of all places to meet another wolf," he said with an unbelieving shake of his head. "I'm traveling with a friend. I've got an important meeting I can't miss, or I'd stay and get to know you. Perhaps we can meet here again sometime? I'd love to run with you. I'm Brother Wolf. You can just call me Brother though."

I cocked my head at him. It was obvious he didn't know I was a wanted wolf. He might not even know about the Alpha King. He sat down on the grass, stretching out his legs.

"Are you all alone, little brother? I know what that's like. It was just me and my parents, then my mom died."

His voice trailed off. I was so tempted to go closer. Another guy hollering out to him had me crouching down and backing up.

"Rick, come on dude, we're all gassed up," the other guy said as he approached. The other guy was lean, maybe mid-twenties, and had his one arm in a cast. He seemed to be human. "Tell me you aren't out here snacking on squirrels."

Rick, the werewolf who told me to call him Brother, reached up a hand to be pulled up by his friend's good arm. "Nah, never been too fond of squirrel. When I was a kid I used to catch them in the trees and let them go. Claws make it easy to climb trees."