Silver Linings
Virgil has some intruders in their house.
At first, you’d thought it was mice.
Your housemate asked you to pick up something from that fancy bakery she likes while you were in town- you’d been visiting your favourite bookshop in the centre, needed material for your current commission. Business as usual, and before long you’re back home, trying to balance a bag of overpriced pastries on top of a few old novels. At least the door’s unlocked, so you don’t need free hands to fumble for your keys. Did Andrea forget to lock it? Not that she’s around to ask- her girlfriend had set up a spontaneous date after work, and it looks like she’s not back yet. Other than the rustling, your house remains silent.
...Rustling?
Your landlord doesn’t allow pets- that’s the only reason why you don’t have at least one cat right now. Still, the animal kingdom doesn’t exactly care about your tenancy agreement, so you’ve got an unwanted guest. The rustling seems to be coming from the kitchen. You were planning on leaving Andy’s stuff there, so you’re already headed there yourself- wouldn’t hurt to look, right? If there are pests in the house, you’d rather deal with them yourself.
Which leads you to where you are now, standing in front of a loud cupboard, something skittering around inside. Sounds bigger than mice. Rats? Very big rats?
You don’t understand why people don’t like rats a lot of the time- you’ve never really minded them that much. Still, you should stop it from leaving your kitchen empty asides for one very full rodent. Expecting to be bitten or scratched right away, you open the door.
Upon making eyes with the dog sitting in the cupboard, all you can think about is how ridiculously small it is. It’s some kind of mongrel, but you aren’t exactly a dog expert- you can’t really tell what breeds make it up. There’s definitely some pomeranian, since you don’t know how much is puppy and how much is fur. Other than that, all you can tell is it’s some kind of wolf-like breed. Husky? Malamute? Nevermind speculating, you should probably get it down before it hurts itself. Getting the puppy’s attention by making a clicking noise with your tongue, you reach out and take it into your arms. After a few seconds of squeaky protests, it quiets down, looking up and blinking slowly.
“How’d you get in there…?” you ask. The puppy makes a little snuffling noise.
“Good point.” You have no idea what that means.
To say the least, this is a problem. You can’t keep animals here, and you have no idea where to start with finding its owner. Checking for a microchip? The vet doesn’t take walk-in appointments, though. Mental note to book an appointment for tomorrow, then. For now, you should probably get the puppy out of the kitchen before it wriggles out of your arms again.
“Oookay, let’s see if you have-”
You stop mid-sentence.
The rest of the litter look similar, besides some variation in size. 5 gingery fluffballs scattered across your couch, two snuggled together, a tiny one sat upright staring onto the distance. The other two seem too focused on play than on you, still trying to process.
Six. Six dogs in your house.
...What are you supposed to do in this situation?! You don’t have time to start trying to answer that before something in your pocket buzzes- god, how are you going to explain this to your housemate- and you take it out to respond.
Andrea [17:02]:
Hey! Im going to be staying at Tias tonight, jsyk where i am later
You [17:03]:
got it. i did pick up your stuff
though- should i leave it for when youre back or
Andrea [17:03]:
It’s ok! Keep them :]
You [17:04]:
ah ok- thanks!
You [17:04]:
hold on i need to go dfgvfdef
tell her i said hi :]
You slip your phone back into your pockets and gently stop one of the puppies from jumping off your couch. That gives you time to… work things out.
First things first, there’s working out how to deal with them for now. The puppies look old enough to be weaned, and if they’re strays, you don’t know if they’ve been fed today. One of those chain pet stores that stay open until late is pretty close, right? You find a decent sized- and easily cleaned- bowl to fill with water and close the living room doors as you leave. They don’t lock, but the pups don’t exactly have the strength to break the doors down. Tiny, gingery cotton balls without opposable thumbs. You shouldn’t be gone for long.
Your little venture for supplies goes off without a hitch- you end up with a decent supply of wet food and toys and a dog bed they all fit in and bowls. Just one weird thing. Not that weirdness is bad- that’s why you chose to move here- but you’d been expecting ghosts and cryptids rather than… a weird stranger following you around a store. You don’t think you’re especially suspicious looking, and she wasn’t especially employee looking. No uniform, a long skirt and a hoodie pulled up to leave little but a few auburn curls sticking out. She didn’t stop to interrogate you or anything, just followed, never breaking an intense stare. By the time she turned to walk into the woods rather than back into town, you were more focused on your own problems. Most locals barely trust the woods, maybe she’s pretty new like you are.
They haven’t managed to burn the house down by the time you get home, at least. Even still you’re a little confused to see the living room doors wide open, something clattering and rustling in the kitchen again.
...Huh. You should probably focus less on questioning it and more on stopping them from making any more mess. At least they didn’t get into any chocolate, you think to yourself as you crouch down and start trying to get some spilt flour off the ground, little prints scattered over the pile. It was probably just you, but you swore that a few of the prints were...weirdly long? Nevermind. Since the dogs seem to have calmed down now they’ve been actually fed, you could try and get some work done? Your deadline isn’t for a few days, but you like getting things finished early.
You share the house’s study with Andy, her planning out presentations and talks for work at the planetarium and you have your freelancing. You’ve found your niche as a writer in non-fiction horror- cryptids and urban legends, that sort of thing. This time your client wanted a piece on how lycanthropy legends developed- you’re about half-finished, could probably get it done tonight.
You’d noticed that one of the puppies- the smallest one, maybe the runt of the litter?- had gotten attached to you. She’d made a point of following you around when she could, and clawing at the nearest door and crying when she couldn’t. After a moment’s decision, you crouch down and scoop her up. Besides the following, she’s been quiet and well behaved, so letting her stay with you can’t hurt. She leans into you as you make your way to the study.
Surprisingly, nothing goes wrong for a few hours. Besides the occasional distant squeak or yap from your new roommates, it’s quiet, and you’re making plenty of progress. The little one barely moves, curled up in your lap. All’s good.
What isn’t good, on the other hand, is the noise that drags you out of your focus. It’s more crashing and rustling, but more “somebody broke in” than “one of the dogs got out of the living room.” Much heavier sounding. Besides breathing, the pup with you doesn’t stir. There are so, so many reasons not to investigate.
You’re home alone.
There is a puppy sleeping on you and you don’t want to wake her up.
You are not very strong. You are a stick of a human being.
You have no weapons or pepper spray or anything to defend yourself.
You are going to get yourself killed or seriously injured if this is a genuine threat.
There is a puppy sleeping on you and you don’t want to wake her up.
On the other hand, you’re far too curious about this for your own good. And if they say that curiosity killed the cat, they also say that satisfaction brought it back. Not that there are any cats here, just you and many dogs and whoever broke in and- you’re getting off track. The puppy doesn’t stir when you slip your sweatshirt off- the heating never works well in the study, you always need extra layers- and fold it into a little bundle to set her down on. Just as you’re gently closing the door behind you, the heaviest encyclopedia you can find in hand…
Another noise. The distinct sound of glass shattering.
Oh dear.
All you can do is steel yourself- you don’t take your phone with you when you’re working, and you absolutely do not have the time to go rummaging through the house in search of it. That leaves two choices then- go confront the source of the noise, or sit here and wait for it to come to you. For reasons you absolutely wouldn’t be able to explain later, you choose the former. Even if you’re doing something stupid, you’re not going to go about it stupidly- you try your hardest not to be noticed. Leaving the lights off, slowly feeling your way in the direction of the source. It’s tricky- you and Andrea haven’t lived here for long, so it’s not like you have the layout memorised yet- but you manage.
With how vigilant of your surroundings you’re being at the moment, you’re starting to notice smaller sounds besides the intruder. You’d brush it off as the litter barking at the noise but it- It just doesn’t sound right. You can’t explain it anymore than that- and you have more important things on your mind. The noises are close enough for you to work out exactly where they’re coming from- the kitchen.
This time you’re actually hoping it’s rats. Very, very big ones? You don’t have time to make a joke to yourself about rodents of unusual size before something vast and blurry barrels into you, a paw wider than your head pressing you against the wall. It’s not pressing too hard, but you feel like you’d break a few ribs if you annoyed it into pushing down. Even now, breathing’s a little hard. You’d consider yourself pretty good at playing dead- and that seems to be your best option, staying as still as you can without falling over, letting the… the creature’s paw hold you upright. Not that you can resist opening your eyes a tiny bit to get a better look at your attacker, squinting in the dark.
You’re pretty sure it’s… some sort of canid animal, not that it’s any you recognise. Somewhere between a fox and a wolf? Orange, pointed snout, but then there’s it’s size, and how sharp its claws feel digging into your clothes. You’d think about it in more detail, but you’re more interested in not being mauled by it than knowing what it is. It leans in to sniff you, a few drops of saliva dripping onto your neck as it bears finely pointed teeth. As the wolf grunts and tightens its hold on you you flinch, and it rears back to lunge forward-
And stops, as the squeaky barks and howls begin to sound more like baby babbling, a crescendo in reverse.
You’re starting to work out what’s going on. And it isn’t even a full moon...
She backs away from you and pauses, lifting her head to sniff the air. Without a moment of hesitation, she turns and bounds towards the kitchen. Now would have been a good time to make a break for it, but you’re definitely not turning back now. You follow.
The litter themselves made enough of a mess of your kitchen, but add in an adult...whatever species they are…?
Turns out the glass shattering was a few glasses you’d left out on the counter, even if they’d been hit with enough force for it to sound like something shattered the window. You wouldn’t have been able to explain that to your housemate. Everything that can be tipped over has been, every cupboard and drawer left open and its contents scattered on the floor. Nothing’s being destroyed right now, at least. Just the wolf standing with her back to you surrounded by the-
“Puppies” isn’t too accurate anymore. The 5 children surrounding her seem to be in varying states between puppy and toddler, a little boy with a fluffy tail to the expected fluffy little dog. One of the more dog-like children looks you in the eyes and gives a playful yap, and the adult’s ear twitches. With painful slowness, she slowly turns herself to face you and simply… stares. You try your hardest not to breathe.
Her gaze shifts downward. You follow it to the small child- two or three? In human years, at least- waddling past you. You’d thought there was one missing… At the sight of her mother, she makes one of the bark-babble noises you’d been hearing, making an attempt at a faster pace. All she manages to do is lose her balance, but you manage to scoop her up just before her face hits the floor. It takes a low growl from the mother wolf for you to realise what a mistake you’ve made, and as she comes closer and closer, you shift from backing away to leaning against the wall to sliding down it and she’s looming over you, glaring. It’s an oddly familiar gaze.
She could probably smell them on you, earlier. It’s a very, very dumb idea to get between a wolf and her cubs, and here you are holding a wriggling puppy- she’s switched shapes again, out to her like she isn’t going to rip your arms out taking it back from you. With a quiet grunt, she leans even further in.
The puppy is grabbed by the scruff of her neck, and she makes a tiny squeak. Without another noise, the pack leave through the busted-open door.
You tell Andrea the door was like that when you came home- someone must have tried to break in and got scared off by something. She seems to buy it. You offer to pay for the locksmith.
The one you chose isn’t coming for a few days, so you probably shouldn’t leave the house until then. Regardless, you’ve got work to do. The wolves left a few of the toys you’d bought- they’d only taken what they could carry in their mouths- and the ones left are clearly used. Maybe you should try to give them back? It’s an excuse to talk to them again, really. Without any panicking. Even if you didn’t mean to kidnap her children, you feel like you should apologise. You just about remember where she turned off into the woods, right?
Close enough. They’re faint, but in the outer edges of the forest, you notice a set of prints in all shapes and sizes- paws bigger than your head, tiny crawling human hands and knees, a few somewhere between. Even with the smaller ones going astray at times, you can gauge the general direction the pack’s headed, and follow.
After about 20 minutes of walking, you end up in a wide clearing. You’d call it a village, but almost every house seems to be empty and run-down, broken windows and cracked stone and overgrown gardens. You begin to make your way towards the single one that looks like a home.
As you get closer those familiar bark-babbles come into earshot, and peering over the stone garden wall reveals two of the pups play-fighting among a patch of flowers in the front garden. One seems to be more dog than child at the moment, and the other more child than dog.
The child-dog looks up from under their sibling when they hear your footsteps, and immediately wriggles out from under them. The dog-child follows, making unintelligible noises. You crouch a little to meet their eyes.
“Hi..!” you chuckle under your breath, “...looks like somebody missed me…”
While you’re focused on the dog-child, the other pup takes advantage of you being lower to the ground. By the time you notice him rummaging through your backpack, he’s fully shifted into his dog form, shaking a little squeaking bunny between his jaws.
“W-wait- you can have it, I just need to talk to your-”
As you reach out, the pup makes a play bow and breaks into a sprint, skittering away with his tail wagging even faster. He’s decided it’s playtime and you don’t have a say in the manner. Not that you mind, and you end up so distracted by him that you don’t notice the stranger from the pet shop walking out of the cottage’s door, the smallest pup in her arms.
Both of you freeze in place when you see each other- her eyes wide and fluffy ears on top of her head (you understand why she’d kept her hood up now) folded back, you on the ground beside a puppy barking with incredulity at you daring not to pay attention to him.
“...”
“...”
The awkward silence is only broken by the noise of you standing up and dusting yourself off, trying your hardest to regain your composure. It resumes once you’re done, as she looks you up and down tentatively.
“You..didn’t tell anyone where you were going, right?” You’d been used their quiet fury, but now her eyes seem almost pleading.
After a moment’s pause, you shake your head.
“Just me, I wanted to- uh-”
You gesture to the bunny, now being used by the siblings for a vigorous tug of war.
“You left a few things. Just wanted to bring them back, that’s all.”
With that she visibly untenses, ears shifting to a normal position.
“Right,” she nods, giving a soft noise of relief. “I don’t- I don’t want the pack to lose anyone else.”
For a moment she goes quiet, glancing around at the silent village. It’s apparent “the pack” isn’t much more than her own little family.
“Don’t worry, I get that-” You probably don’t, but you’re trying your hardest. She seems to accept it as comforting, anyway.
There’s another moment of hesitation before the wolf-woman speaks.
“I’m sorry about last night, I can’t think straight when I shift even when I’m not panicking.”
Last time you’d seen her, you thought she was going to rip your throat out. Here, she’s more… calm. Stoic without coldness.
You raise your hands up apologetically, making a nervous laugh- it’s a habit of yours.
“No- it’s okay..! I should be apologising to you, really, I hadn’t known they were…. Y’know…”
The corners of her mouth rise a little. “You couldn’t have. They’re still learning how to shift and- starting to work out where they can get when they have hands. And it’s probably best if… people don’t know. For now.”
Just as you open your mouth to respond, the pup in her arms babbles something and reaches out to you with an arm, giggling. Her mother looks down at her fondly.
“They took a liking to you. I don’t… let them see humans often, and when they do they’re usually about to hurt them rather than help them- thank-you for that, by the way-”
You’re in the middle of telling her she doesn’t need to apologise when your phone vibrates.
Andrea [13:50]:
Hey uh
Andrea [13:50]:
Are you in right now?
It’s probably best if people don’t know, for now.
You [13:50]:
no but i’m close, will be soon,, you ok?
Andrea [13:51]:
Oh my god thank-you. I forgot my keys so Im uh. Locked out.
You [13:51]:
dfgdfgfdef oh no
gimme like 10 minutes?? 15??
She’s been watching you text quietly, head tilted. “Everything okay...?”
You nod. “Mhm! All good. But uh- I need to go.”
“Alright, be safe. There’s more than just us in these woods.”
“I’ll try to be, don’t worry-”
As you back away, the pup mewls and reaches out for you.
“I’m sorry but I can’t stay here, okay?” You reach out to ruffle her hair and she wraps her arms around your hand, continuing to squeak and babble in protest. You make out a few words this time.
“Come back?”
“I know, but I really-”
After a moment of hesitation, you think of something.
“...”
“...You know, if you ever need someone to watch them…”