Vegetarian Werewolf
1053 Words
In spite of watching police dramas, nothing quite prepared Harold for the sheer boredom of an actual stakeout. Martak had pointed out the herb garden, and promptly gone to sleep.
Slayer of Men suddenly asked.
"Not very, unless sleep is a sin."
"Yeah, well it's not my job to entertain you."
There was a loud thump from the back of the lawn.
An audible sniffing came from the darkness. "I can smell you." came a comically high pitched voice.
Harold shifted in his chair. Nothing about werewolves had prepared him for an actual conversation.
"I ... uhm... I'm guarding the garden."
"I can see that. What I don't see is any kind of weapon." the voice squeaked. A form Harold had mistaken for a rock moved closer, the sniffing again. "I smell your fear. What kind of guardian are you?"
Slayer of Men exploded into his skull.
"Um, I'm actually quite new to this."
"Shocker." The form said, moving closer, lean and thin limbs now apparent, and the feminine form...
"You aren't a werewolf." Harold said.
"Duh." she replied, rising on her hind legs. "I'm a lagomorph."
She stepped into the light, revealing a furry lithe form, decked out in an old T-Shirt that may at one time have had artwork on it, but was now just scattered patches of color. Her jeans would have looked weathered, but they were frayed and dirty. In fact, dirt and grime and even leaves were a theme, Harold could see now.
In fact, it almost hid her protruding rodent-like face, the large floppy ears...
"You're a rabbit shifter." Harold said.
"Uh, Yeah." she said, edging toward the garden.
Harold got out of the chair. Although any fear for his life had faded, he suspected the young woman in front of him might attempt to make a run for the garden, doing the running equivalent of a snatch and grab.
"Why are you stealing garden herbs?" Harold asked.
"A girl's got to eat." she said.
"No. I mean, clearly you do. But there are jobs, and vegetables are cheap."
She looked at him with something that was NOT fear. "Yeah, had one of those. When Bunny's went out of business, most of my sisters got jobs. You know where? EXOTIC DANCING. I may like shaking my tail as much as the next lagomorph, but I want it to mean something, you know?"
Harold rubbed where his eyes and nose met. "But there are other jobs." he said.
"Yeah, you know what happens when you show up for those other jobs?" She raised her hands to her ears.
Scruffy. Harold realized. Beneath the mud and filth, The word for her overall look was scruffy.
"Sure, the Veil keeps us safe, but you know what it makes these look like? How many job interviews I went to where people asked me to take my ears off? Like, TAKE OFF MY EARS? Screw that, screw humans, and screw your society and rules and all of that."
"But... child care? Waitressing?"
"Where? Have you eaten out recently?"
"Weekly." Harold said.
"At a sit down place, or did they ask if you wanted fries with that?"
"Oh." Harold realized he was looking at the lawn, and not at his opponent. "I guess it is all fast food,"
"Yeah. Friends have suggested that I do social work by phone. Do you know what my voice sounds like over the phone?"
"I can guess." Harold said.
"What's that?" she asked. "In your pocket, what is that?"
"You can hear him?" Harold asked.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Wasn't I just complaining about my ears? What, you think they didn't work?"
"Well, I... nobody else has heard him, not in his native form."
"Sword?" she asked. "A sword that fits in your pocket? Like, a real magic sword?"
"Yeah." Harold said, drawing Slayer of Men from his pocket. "This.."
"Silver!" she hissed, falling back a step. "You WERE here to kill me."
"What? No, I was here to fight off a werewolf."
"What?" she asked, "Are there a lot of vegetarian werewolves where you live?"
"Spinach?" she asked, suddenly interested. "You have cucumbers, too? I can raid your fridge instead of this meager garden."
"I even have carrots." Harold said.
She squinted at him. "Racist. Carrots aren't actually that good for us."
"I, uh, didn't know that. Sorry."
"Look, I do have a house. And groceries, and money for like a suit you could interview in."
"My name is Apple, short for Applecore. I uh, I wouldn't want to stay long. Just..." she looked down. "A new set of clothes does sound really good about now."
"Sure." Harold said, "just let me check how quickly I can get an Uber here."
Her ears shot up. "Uber? How do you know you won't get an axe murderer?"
But Stephanie, their Uber driver, seemed to be just another human. Talkative, chain smoker, but definitely human.
Apple exploded out of the car when it pulled into Harold's driveway.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Stephanie said, "Is your girlfriend allergic?"
"She has a sensitive nose." Harold said. And to Apple, "This is my home. I've got two unused rooms upstairs, with a fold out couch in one of them."
"Oh, I... do you have a goblin as a room-mate?"
"Nah." said the goblin, emerging from the shadows, pulling back the slide on an automatic pistol. "I'm just here to kill him."
- Writer
