2.

​Long before the woman enters his sight, the wolf catches Her scent, that unique blend of citrus shampoo, hazelnut creamer and aged parchment which was all Her own. Though his ears perk up with involuntary anticipation, he burrows down a bit deeper within the cool, damp grass so as to remain hidden. Despite his own size, the Oak tree was nothing short of massive, and the cover which it's trunk had lent all these years had been foolproof, yet there was always room for error. The last thing he would ever wish to do is frighten Her by making his presence known. She, this pristine example of bipedal perfection which from his observation was very close to extinction. She, the sole purpose of his daily travels into human territory which could bring about his demise with the pull of a trigger. His breath catches as he begins his mental countdown. 3...2...1...and there it was. That slight misstep which was without fail a daily occurrence due to the uneven sidewalk and the gap between cement sections which had only grown larger over the years. It was always the same. A mere nudge with the toe of her right shoe. Not severe enough to bring about a fall, rather just enough to cause the grip to tighten about her teal travel mug which read 'Books are just TV for smart people.' This was his cue, this briefest of signals brought about by the city's neglect of that small bit of walkway. The wolf suddenly raises his hind quarters, preparing himself for the mad dash of ultimate stealth which was all part of his routine.

As the thin brunette draws nearer to the building's front entrance and thus disappearing from the wolf's line of sight, he lurches forward, bounding out from behind the tree and sprinting with lightning speed across the fifty foot expanse between the Oak and the rear wall of the building. Without pause, he then slips around the corner and glides along the side wall of the building, the red brick cool and coarse against his dark fur. His footfalls mindful yet not slowing in speed, he glides along the full length of the building until he reaches the front corner which rests street side and thus placing him dangerously within open view of any passers by. The wolf knows well the risks of his antics, and save for his eyes which once more come to fall upon Her...his human, as she juggles her hot coffee, a purse no doubt carrying the burden of one if not two books, and a ring of jingling keys, his other senses go on high alert for anyone else approaching. The wolf remains utterly transfixed by this alluring female as She manages to wrestle a key within the large, iron plate of the old wooden door then just like that...she slips within, the door closing at her heels.


Though the experience was all too brief for his liking, it had been, as always, worth every ounce of risk and effort. He had seen his Lady safely to her destination, and looked forward to doing so again. If a wolf could smile he would be, and did, each and every morning...save Tuesdays and Sundays.

Mombie: "OK...this is making a bit more sense now. Fleshing out the wolf's character a bit while introducing another. This could work."

Narrator: "Yes. It may be a rather unusual perspective to start out with but as you say, it could work if done correctly."

Mombie: " Well then I had better not fuck this up, eh?"

Narrator: "Quite right."

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