Early morning. Bianca would usually just be heading to bed, but instead she sat in a clearing in Dawn Park with an unconscious werewolf. He was human now, and she’d draped her coat over him modestly.
She crossed her legs and frowned at him, unsure of her next move. He had shoulder-length, dark hair that fell into his grey eyes and scars running up his neck, she thought she’d seen him in Echo before, though it tended not to be a wolf hang-out.
The werewolf snuffled in his sleep, and his chin dropped onto his chest with a thud. He started awake, eyes wide. “Whazzat?”
Bianca laughed at the expression on his face, before covering her mouth with her hand and sitting up straight. “Good morning, Fido.”
He scowled, confused. “Fido?”
She waited. And then realisation dawned on his face and he went bright red. He pulled his legs up under the coat and slapped and hand to his forehead with a groan. “I’m so sorry… did I hurt anyone?”
She paused, taking in his distraught expression. “Nothing that won’t heal-” she indicated the arm that was already scarring, “but you could have. Where was your claviger?”
The wind cut through their little clearing quite suddenly, biting Bianca’s cheek and grabbing at the coat that covered the man. He shivered, and ignored her question in favour of getting to his feet- somewhat precariously whilst still covered in the coat- and stamping his feet on the icy earth.
“Is this yours?” He indicated the garment that barely covered his waist, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Look, thanks, but I really have to get to my flat… this was all a huge fiasco…” he trailed off.
Indignation and irritation rose in Bianca’s chest and she planted herself steadily in front of him, arms crossed. “Fiasco?” Here she raised an eyebrow, “Fiasco? You… but… what? You could have killed someone!”
“I was on my way to lock-up, it was only a few blocks away, I would have been there in three minutes!”
“Time management, buddy. Three minutes was enough for you to go rampaging through Dawn Park and- hang on… did you hear it too?” Bianca ceased scolding long enough to register that without this unlikely saviour’s interference, she would have probably succumbed to the sinister, terror-inducing drums. She frowned, her mind now travelling down this tangent, completely oblivious of the large, semi-naked werewolf attempting to get past.
“Hear what?” he grumbled.
“The drums… they were so loud… hey, where are you going? You can’t walk home like that! And it’s my coat! Wait!!”