Wolf Like Me
Title: Wolf Like Me
Author: kerrykhat
Fandom: Women of the Otherworld
Rating: PG
Summary: I was walking through the newly opened Music Garden in Toronto when I first met him.He was sitting on a bench, strumming a guitar with the casual intensity of a practiced musician. I’d almost buy it if it weren’t for his scent. A werewolf always recognizes another one of our kind.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and related characters; Kelley Armstrong owns "Women of the Otherworld" and related characters; I own nothing.
Word Count: 646
Author's Notes: Spoilers for Bitten. Can I please have a Women of the Otherworld tag?
I was walking through the newly opened Music Garden in Toronto when I first met him. Philip was on a business trip, leaving me at loose ends for the weekend. The city had been touting this new addition to the park system, and I hadn’t had a chance to check it out since moving back, so it seemed the perfect thing to do on an overcast Saturday afternoon.
He was sitting on a bench, strumming a guitar with the casual intensity of a practiced musician. I’d almost buy it if it weren’t for his scent. A werewolf always recognizes another one of our kind.
What confused me, however, and what made me stop to watch and listen, was that I didn’t recognize him. Before I had left Stonehaven and Jeremy, I’d been the Pack’s main contact with the various mutts and thought I knew most of them. This redheaded musician was unfamiliar, and it bothered me. It shouldn’t, I know. I’d left Stonehaven and the Pack behind months ago, trying to reclaim the life that Clay stole when he bit me. A strange werewolf wasn’t really any of my concern, but it still bugged me.
The musician finished his song, resting his hand on the top of the guitar before looking up and meeting my eyes. He gave me a nod before turning his attention back to his instrument.
That was… odd. All the werewolves I’ve met are at least curious about the only female werewolf in existence, but it didn’t seem to even faze him.
There was a bench next from him, and I sat down while he played through his next song. It wasn’t anything I recognized, but pleasant enough to listen to.
“So, are you new in town?” I asked once he finished. There aren’t that many of us out in the world-around thirty-five last count-and I wanted to see if he was a mutt who was trying to claim the city without being part of the Pack.
He shrugged, not bothered by the question. “Just passing through. Heard about the garden and wanted to see it.”
Sounded fair, but I was still suspicious. “Elena,” I introduced myself, leaning towards him and stretching out my hand.
“Oz.” He gave my hand a small squeeze before letting go.
“Are you in a band?” I was being nosy, but I couldn’t help myself. I had been trying so hard to escape the Pack and try to be human, that I couldn’t believe a strange mutt showing up to be a coincidence.
“Was. Took a break and spent time in Tibet. Now I’m trying to figure out what I want to do next.”
If he’d been in Tibet, that might explain why I didn’t know him, especially if he hadn’t been causing any trouble.
“I’ve never been to Tibet. It sounds interesting though.”
Another shrug. “It’s peaceful.” He leaned down to pull the guitar case from under his bench and placed the instrument inside. “Gave me time to think through things.”
“That would be nice,” I commented, somewhat wistfully. Oz had a restful air about him that I’d never felt before, not even around Jeremy or Logan. I wondered briefly if that was something that came naturally to him or if he learned it in Tibet.
“I have the monastery’s number if you like.”
“Maybe some other time.”
He stood up, and I was amused to find he was shorter than me. “Nice to meet you, Elena.
“Nice to meet you too, Oz.”
I watched him walk away, hands in my pocket and fingering my cell phone. Oz didn’t seem to be a threat, either to me or to anybody in the city. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to call Logan, my last remaining tie to the world I’d left behind months ago, and see if he’d heard anything about a traveling werewolf musician.
Author: kerrykhat
Fandom: Women of the Otherworld
Rating: PG
Summary: I was walking through the newly opened Music Garden in Toronto when I first met him.He was sitting on a bench, strumming a guitar with the casual intensity of a practiced musician. I’d almost buy it if it weren’t for his scent. A werewolf always recognizes another one of our kind.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and related characters; Kelley Armstrong owns "Women of the Otherworld" and related characters; I own nothing.
Word Count: 646
Author's Notes: Spoilers for Bitten. Can I please have a Women of the Otherworld tag?
I was walking through the newly opened Music Garden in Toronto when I first met him. Philip was on a business trip, leaving me at loose ends for the weekend. The city had been touting this new addition to the park system, and I hadn’t had a chance to check it out since moving back, so it seemed the perfect thing to do on an overcast Saturday afternoon.
He was sitting on a bench, strumming a guitar with the casual intensity of a practiced musician. I’d almost buy it if it weren’t for his scent. A werewolf always recognizes another one of our kind.
What confused me, however, and what made me stop to watch and listen, was that I didn’t recognize him. Before I had left Stonehaven and Jeremy, I’d been the Pack’s main contact with the various mutts and thought I knew most of them. This redheaded musician was unfamiliar, and it bothered me. It shouldn’t, I know. I’d left Stonehaven and the Pack behind months ago, trying to reclaim the life that Clay stole when he bit me. A strange werewolf wasn’t really any of my concern, but it still bugged me.
The musician finished his song, resting his hand on the top of the guitar before looking up and meeting my eyes. He gave me a nod before turning his attention back to his instrument.
That was… odd. All the werewolves I’ve met are at least curious about the only female werewolf in existence, but it didn’t seem to even faze him.
There was a bench next from him, and I sat down while he played through his next song. It wasn’t anything I recognized, but pleasant enough to listen to.
“So, are you new in town?” I asked once he finished. There aren’t that many of us out in the world-around thirty-five last count-and I wanted to see if he was a mutt who was trying to claim the city without being part of the Pack.
He shrugged, not bothered by the question. “Just passing through. Heard about the garden and wanted to see it.”
Sounded fair, but I was still suspicious. “Elena,” I introduced myself, leaning towards him and stretching out my hand.
“Oz.” He gave my hand a small squeeze before letting go.
“Are you in a band?” I was being nosy, but I couldn’t help myself. I had been trying so hard to escape the Pack and try to be human, that I couldn’t believe a strange mutt showing up to be a coincidence.
“Was. Took a break and spent time in Tibet. Now I’m trying to figure out what I want to do next.”
If he’d been in Tibet, that might explain why I didn’t know him, especially if he hadn’t been causing any trouble.
“I’ve never been to Tibet. It sounds interesting though.”
Another shrug. “It’s peaceful.” He leaned down to pull the guitar case from under his bench and placed the instrument inside. “Gave me time to think through things.”
“That would be nice,” I commented, somewhat wistfully. Oz had a restful air about him that I’d never felt before, not even around Jeremy or Logan. I wondered briefly if that was something that came naturally to him or if he learned it in Tibet.
“I have the monastery’s number if you like.”
“Maybe some other time.”
He stood up, and I was amused to find he was shorter than me. “Nice to meet you, Elena.
“Nice to meet you too, Oz.”
I watched him walk away, hands in my pocket and fingering my cell phone. Oz didn’t seem to be a threat, either to me or to anybody in the city. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to call Logan, my last remaining tie to the world I’d left behind months ago, and see if he’d heard anything about a traveling werewolf musician.