Lupine

2.

The park was almost empty save the rare jogger or dog walker willing to brave the cold. Oleda walked the path around the edge of the park on her way home reveling in the winter air while, the desire to shuck off her heavy coat strong, when the scent of a were hit her.

Why now and why here? A few werewolves had passed through her neighborhood the past week which was a few more than her neighborhood usually saw. Another sniff told her this one was still nearby and she scanned the area around her without stopping. There, resting beneath a tree at the opposite corner, was a man resting against a tree with a hat pulled low over his eyes. He appeared to just be napping. Not altogether unusual, but he was tucked away in only a light sweater in the ten degree weather.

Oleda sighed. She'd need to pass him unless she wanted to walk a block out of her way and she honestly just didn't want to. If he stayed asleep, she doubted he'd notice her until she was well and gone. No others had made a point to seek her our yet if they passed her scent.

Mind made up she continued around her park, a bit faster than before. As she neared the edge of the park she looked over to see the man gone and all but skidded to a stop. His scent was still strong and she whipped her head around trying to find him. Like a scarecrow in a field, he stood tall and still just off the path ahead watching her.

No way around it without hightailing in the other direction, Oleda strode purposefully forward.

"Hey there."

Guess there wasn't an option to just walk past. "Hi."

She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. "Were you just going to ignore me?"

"I wasn't aware we had a chat scheduled," quipped Oleda. She turned to look at him, craning her neck to look up at him. Damn he was tall.

The man barked out a laugh, sharp features softening. It did nothing to disguise the scars across his face, the nose broken a few too many times, or the thin layer of dirt that seemed to cling to him. He was easily nearing six and half feet with limbs sticking our of his overly large clothing like he'd been pulled through a taffy stretcher and had to lean down to offer his hand. She shook it after a moments hesitation.

"Name's Lawrence," he offered, still grinning.

"Oleda," she replied.

"It's nice to meet you Oleda." He gestured to a bench nearby. "Care to sit and chat? Haven't had the chance to hang with kin in a while."

She shook her head, but moved off the path.

"No, thank you."

"So you do have manners!" exclaimed Lawrence.

"What does that mean?" Oleda asked bristling.

"Well, you were going to just walk right past me. I even came here just to see if I could catch you after running across your scent all over this neighborhood."

Logically she knew to be wary of this. Whispers of the murders in the east could be heard in almost every conversation she passed and they had the markings of werewolf attacks, but something about Lawrence kept her defenses down. She'd noticed that sense of ease the minute she had approached him. Everything about the were, from his posture to his tone and the very essence that rolled off him in waves screamed good. It was more pure than what her instincts felt from almost any human although she wasn't sure if that truly accurate or just due to the comfort of finally being near another wolf.

"No one else has ever bothered to approach me in my territory–"

"Your territory?!" He laughed. "A rogue with territory. That's rich. I can't say I've ever seen a rogue with territory before and from the sounds of it, I've met a lot more than you."