“Disgusting,” is the first word you hear, a sharp blonde-haired woman standing above you with a designer bag hanging over her shoulder as you gain consciousness. Ivory’s crystal eyes stare down at you through dark sunglasses with narrowed disgust at the sight of you laid across the sidewalk, blinding as the sun behind them. Your teeth ache, your head spinning from lack of water and disorientation and your clothes torn as you sit up. The air smells of freshly-poured concrete, new development, so disorienting compared to the smell of the forest just beyond town.

“What’s a werewolf like you doing on this side of town?” She comments coldly, tilting her head slightly. The streets are notably clean, with tall modern buildings that feel just a little out-of-place in this small town as you finally start to register where you are. “Isn’t the mayor supposed to be doing something about you?”

She pauses, before sighing, sinking down on her heels and squatting beside you. “You’re awake, aren’t you? C’mon, up. Scram,” she tries to encourage you, shaking your shoulder as you come to. After a moment, she stands up on her own and pulls out some hand sanitizer, washing her hands quickly with the sanitizer and goes to head off toward work as usual.

She pauses at the sound of footsteps behind her, glancing back, then continues for a moment and stopping at a crosswalk. Then a couple more blocks, before she stops in place at the continued sound of footsteps behind her. A disgruntled noise crawls up from her throat at your continued following, eyes glancing back at you with a withering look. “What do you want?”