Worst Of Both Worlds

Romulus hated the rain.

He didn’t mildly dislike the concept. He didn’t detest it in the moment, and when the weather shifted forgot all about those feelings. He didn’t play it up for a joke or to give himself a memorable quirk, no matter what his brother used to say.

Romulus.

Hated.

Rain.

As a werewolf, the rain made a mockery of every aspect of himself. Like some kind of cosmic joke. Probably one made by the Stars. Nasty little things, they were.

Rain messed with his sense of smell, leaving him unable to sniff out anything that wasn’t directly in front of him.

He couldn’t see anything through the curtain of falling liquid at the best of times.

It was all but impossible for him to hear a single sound that wasn’t the constant drum of water droplets.

The less said about how it felt to lug around drenched fur the better.

And even though he normally detested the stereotype about werewolves howling at the moon, he at least liked to be able to see the darned thing. But the clouds accompanying rain always covered it up.

Romulus would rather avoid the rain if possible, or perhaps track down whatever weather sprites were in charge and get them to knock it off. And, if he had to get caught in the rain, he’d at least like it to be on any day but the full moon. It was at least somewhat tolerable when he was more or less human.

When he felt the first drops of water fall onto his fur, that was enough to put him in a bad mood. It took him longer than he’d like to stumble across a shelter. By the time he crawled into a burrow beneath a tree, he was soaked through.

With a growl, Romulus shook himself off as best he could. The burrow was too small for him to properly stretch out in, but at least it was mostly dry.

Romulus slumped down against a side wall. He curled up as best he could and let his head drop onto his forearms. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep through the storm, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. He closed his eyes and tried to beat back consciousness.

It was even beginning to work. His mind had started to grow foggy and he lost track of how long it had been or what exactly was going on around him.

Something dropped onto his tail. Romulus took a sharp inhale and his eyes snapped back open. A figure jumped blindly and crashed against his side. It stumbled back and fell to the ground.

A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the burrow. This was what had sat on his tail. Romulus had no doubt about that.

Romulus inspected the slumped figure. Two arms, two legs, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Undoubtedly a human.

Romulus didn’t normally eat humans. He found that they made him feel terribly bloated for a few days. But he also wasn’t one to just turn away a free meal when it wanders up to him.

Then again, he wasn’t that hungry. He’d barely be able to get started before he’d have to stop again. That would leave a mess. And in the tiny burrow, Romulus would have no way to get away from the mess.

Although… his tail was still twinging. It was even twitching in pain. He couldn’t just let that go unpunished.

Romulus bared his sharp teeth and started to growl at the human. As he stalked closer to it, the light faded. But that didn’t change anything. Not really. He could still make out every detail of the human.

Any moment now it would realize that its numbered days were up. Perhaps it would scream. Romulus would quite like to hear a scream right now. It would be better than the cacophony from the rain and thunder.

The human lifted one hand, and for a moment Romulus thought it would try to fight back. He was about to laugh at the futile gesture. Then the human’s hand rested on the side of his head.

Romulus blinked and stopped growling. He wasn’t familiar with this method of combat.

“Are you real?” the human whispered.

Romulus could hardly believe the human. Did it really think this was a dream? He had to give it points for optimism, if nothing else. Still, that wouldn’t do much for it in the long run. Soon it would realize it was awake.

A part of Romulus idly wondered what it would do then. Would it scream and run? Normally Romulus preferred that option. He liked when he got to chase his prey. It was hardly any workout most of the time, but it was fun nonetheless. Only the human would run through the rain, wouldn’t it? Romulus would hate to give chase then. Honestly, he might even let the human get away if it did that.

No, better for it to sob and beg for its life. Others might have called Romulus insane for it, but he always thought food tasted better when it was sobbing. He just had to keep the human from running when it realized it was awake. And there was a very easy way to do that.

Romulus grabbed the human by the wrist and yanked its hand off his face. He started twisting its arm. Not enough to pull it off completely, he didn’t much like to eat limbs that weren’t actively pumping blood after all, but enough to warn it off touching him again. If it could learn at all.

The blasted human just leaned with its arm.

“Oh, sorry,” it had the audacity to say. “You probably don’t like me touching you like that, do you?”

The human hadn’t started running yet. Surely it couldn’t still believe this was a dream, could it?

Lightning flashed, and Romulus took the opportunity to bare his fangs in another growl. He leaned closer, ready to snap his teeth at the human.

“You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”

It was all Romulus could do to keep from rolling his eyes at the question.

“Can you speak like this?”

Romulus groaned as he realized what was going on. There was only one reason a human would ask such a question. Clearly this one was defective. Probably sick with some plague or another. That would explain why it hadn’t run or screamed or cried.

He released it immediately. The human shuffled back and slumped against the wall.

“Are you going to eat me? Only, I don’t think I’d taste very good.”

Romulus scoffed. Obviously. If there was something wrong with the human, he wouldn’t eat it. He had more self-respect than to consume anything diseased.

He scanned the human properly. It did look slight and frail. Probably about to keel over and die even without Romulus doing anything. Wouldn’t make for a decent meal anyway.

The human bobbed its head.

“Well, then, my name is Sasha, Mr. Werewolf. Do you have a name?”

Romulus felt another snarl making its way through his throat. Did he have a name? What did this human think he was? Some savage living in the outlands?

“Well, I can’t very well keep calling you Mr. Werewolf, can I? That would be like you calling me Miss Human. Perhaps I can come up with a name for you?”

He didn’t even bother to dignify that with a response. As if he’d ever take a name from a human.

“Okay then. How about Fido?”

Romulus slashed his arm across the human’s frame. He felt his claws slice through something, though it wasn’t flesh. The sleeve of its shirt. Still, his claw brushed its flesh. Even if he hadn’t drawn blood, that should act as enough of a warning.

“Fido it is, then.”

He released a bark of pure rage at the human. How dare it? How dare it?! To continue on with such an insipid name. He couldn’t remember the last time any of his prey had shown him such disrespect. He ought to cut her down right then and there, disease or no.

“Fido it really is, then.”

Romulus growled and tensed, ready to pounce. He smirked to himself, already imagining the look on its face when it realized what her insolence had cost it. Perhaps he’d pluck out its eyes first, make sure it couldn’t see anything else he did.

Another bolt of lightning illuminated the burrow. The human’s face was thrown into clarity. It didn’t look smug or proud of itself or the least bit frightened. If anything, it looked sincere.

Romulus would have to give the human this: it was among the braver of his prey.

The light faded once more. The winds and howling rain shifted. As if it were targeting him, the water flew into the burrow and started splashing over Romulus. He snarled and glared up into the rain, searching to see if there were some mischievous water sprite playing what it thought was some kind of joke. There were none he could see.

Romulus pushed himself up. He stalked out of the rain and started making his way across the burrow. There was only one spot where no rain was falling now, and the human was occupying it. He shoved it out of the way and dropped down, claiming the spot for himself.

A few moments later the human bounced back and flopped against his side. Romulus grunted and braced his hand against its back, intent on pushing the human away. It resisted the push. He could force the issue, but in doing so he’d have to shove his arm into the rain.

Romulus huffed and relaxed as best he could. Still, he shifted to glare at the human, letting out a low growl. Even if the human didn’t see it, there’s no way it wouldn’t be able to feel the rumbling.

Fear tactics might work to get rid of the human. Might. The human had already shown itself to be braver than he expected. Or an idiot. Or, as the case often was, both.

“Are you cold?”

Romulus huffed, but didn’t even bother to dwell on the question.

“Here.”

A moment later, the human pulled a strip of fabric from its neck and wrapped it over his shoulders. For a moment he thought it might be attempting to strangle him. Pointless, but amusing. But no. It just left the fabric on his shoulders. For some reason.

Yet another sign that the human was an idiot. And even more probably diseased. Though he didn’t smell any kind of rot on the fabric. Beyond the normal human stench, at least.

“Is that better?”

Romulus ignored the question and glanced up at the exit of the burrow. It was still raining, water pouring down from the sky. Even more so than when he’d entered.

He sighed and growled, but the rain didn’t abate.

The human did shift around on his side, however. At least something was starting to get afraid.

“Do you live here in the forest? Because I haven’t heard of any werewolves living out here.”

Or maybe not.

Romulus could have pointed out that if anyone encountered a werewolf, they weren’t likely to be able to share stories of the encounter. But the human wouldn’t understand it. And he didn’t really feel like it anyway. Maybe if he ignored the human, it would get bored and leave.

“Do you do anything for fun?”

Romulus glanced at the human and then back out to the rain, very plainly gesturing for it to leave.

“So not in here, but out there?”

Romulus huffed again. Right. Idiot.

“I imagine you like to run around a lot. You’re a wolf, of sort, so you probably chase other animals. Deer or some birds or maybe some rabbits. Do you chase rabbits?”

Romulus growled at the implication. As if he would ever lower himself to hunt something as lowly as a rabbit. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill a rabbit should one approach him, of course. It was the only fate such a creature deserved. But he would never ever chase after one.

Perhaps he should reconsider not eating the human after all. Surely just a limb wouldn’t make him sick. And it would show what he truly hunted.

“I don’t like rabbits either. They make a terrible mess of the garden.”

Romulus rolled over. He knocked the human off of him, though he didn’t even notice that at first. He just examined the human. It met his gaze head on.

There was no trace of fear or deception. It wasn’t saying what it thought he’d want to hear out of some desperate bid for survival. It was just speaking, looking down at rabbits.

So what?

Romulus shook his head and returned to trying to intimidate the rain out of existence.

So what if she had one somewhat had one positive quality? Statistically speaking, it had to happen.

The human dropped back down against his side.

Maybe not.

“I’ve always liked the rain.”

Romulus scoffed. Definitely not.

“I’ve always liked the way it sounds. To lay back in bed and hear it bouncing off the roof, maybe pitter-pattering down the window. It sounds like music. The music of nature. I like it.”

Romulus started groaning lowly as the human spoke, and the sound just grew more and more pronounced with each word. He glanced up at the sky.

This truly had to be some cosmic joke. Some Star must have thought it’d be funny to force him into a burrow with an idiot waxing a pitiful attempt at poetry. About the bane of his existence.

“I suppose it doesn’t sound like much in here, does it?”

Maybe the human couldn’t hear anything. That would explain why it didn’t seem to understand why there was anything wrong with rain. That would explain a lot, actually.

“It’s different when its outside. You prefer clear nights, don’t you? So you can howl at the moon?”

Romulus didn’t have to eat it, but maybe he should at least kill the human? No, unlike some savages he could name, he didn’t enjoy the smell of rotting meat. Though maiming it would be cathartic, if nothing else.

Romulus began running his claws over the ground. He wanted to make sure they were extra sharp for this.

“At the stars?”

He faltered slightly. What kind of question was that?

“Do you not howl at the stars?”

No. Of course not. Sure, he had a healthy respect for Stars, even as he cursed them and their existence, but he never had and never would feel the need to howl at them.

“But you do like the stars, right? I can’t imagine anyone not liking stars.”

Romulus huffed. Obviously. Stars controlled the course of fate. No one with half a brain would go around disparaging them. Not unless they had the power to snuff out Stars.

“I like the stars too. I like looking up and connecting the lights together, forming pictures, you know? Real, proper pictures. Not the squiggles that people try to pass off as constellations.”

Romulus couldn’t hold back a startled laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had so blatantly insulted the Stars like that.

Romulus couldn’t deny that this girl truly was a brave idiot.

“Would you like to find our own constellations?” she asked. “We can’t use the real stars, of course.” She gestured to the downpour for emphasis. “But I came up with a workaround.”

Romulus watched her, waiting for an explanation.

“Not me, look out at the rain.”

The human leaned forward to watch the falling rain. Romulus turned his head very slightly, easily tracking the shuffling and twisting lines of the rain.

A flash of lightning illuminated the rain. Each and every drop lit up with sparkling lights. “Now! Close your eyes!”

Romulus closed his eyes. Afterimages of the glowing raindrops remained burned against his eyelids.

They did look a little like Stars, only they weren’t laughing at him.

“I have a wolf.”

Romulus shifted, though didn’t open his eyes. What was that supposed to mean?

“Do you see it? With the head in the upper left, tilted up to the sky? The tail is kinda curved over the back.”

It took a moment longer for Romulus to realize she was connecting the lights from the rain. The lights remained stark against his eyelids, so it didn’t take long for Romulus to find the wolf. It was of an inferior breed to him, but perfectly serviceable.

“Did you see it?”

Romulus opened his eyes. The human was watching him, that earnest look back on her face. He nodded once. She smiled and settled back against his side.

“I wish we could see the stars and the rain,” she said softly. “But the rain covers the stars. And for there to be stars, there must not be rain. I think I’d like both. The best of both worlds.”

Romulus shook his head. Stars and rain? That would be the worst of both worlds.

Definitely an idiot.

—————————————————————

Romulus felt his body start to shift and morph, reshaping itself back into human as the sun started to rise. He shoved the sleeping human off of him and stood up. He shivered at the familiar feeling of fur retreating into his skin.

He looked up at the light. The rain had blessedly ended. He climbed out of the burrow, scowling as the lingering scent of rain assaulted his nose. Even weak as it was, his nose still picked up every bit of that smell.

The girl’s fabric was still hanging on his shoulders. Romulus grabbed it as he walked through the forest. He wrapped it over his face, covering his nose.

It blocked out the smell of the rain.