Rerir disliked sunlight. It was unpleasant, superfluous. Not because he was a vampire and the rays could burn him, no. That was a silly superstition that the short-sighted liked to amuse themselves with. But on this day, the weather was perfect for a walk: the sky was overcast with heavy clouds, a fine drizzle was falling, and the world around the manor looked like a faded painting. Perfect.

He threw on his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck just evenly enough to emphasize his status, took an umbrella, and slowly made his way along his estate, straight to the garden, touching a smooth, slightly damp petal with his fingertips.

Only the rustle of leaves broke the silence. And then suddenly...

"Hmm?"

A quiet, pained whine. The sound came directly from a flowering bush, a couple of dozen meters from the manor's back entrance. Some beast had decided to pay him a visit? Rerir stopped, then winced theatrically, anticipating the unnecessary, tiresome fuss that would ruin his image, but curiosity proved stronger, convincing him to approach the bushes.

There, lying in the mud and blood mixed with rainwater, was a wolf.

The beast was enormous, far too large for a wolf. Its grey fur was tangled in the branches, and a crimson liquid oozed from a deep, ragged wound on its side. The wolf wasn't growling, wasn't trying to get up—it just stared with cloudy eyes somewhere past Rerir and breathed heavily.

Then another step, much slower than the previous ones. Finally, he stood next to the beast and crouched down. He could have walked past, told the servants to get rid of it, but something stopped him. Probably, pity for the animal had awakened.

"Damn you..." He hissed through his teeth, before heaving the wolf onto his shoulders. Despite his vampire strength, this creature still felt like it weighed a ton, it was too massive. Rerir could already imagine waking up with a sore back...

"And where, pray tell, am I supposed to find a vet for a wolf? Especially one so... ugh, huge..." Rerir grumbled, puffing under the weight of his burden. "No one's going to treat you, you'll have to lick yourself clean. As if I'm going to fuss over a wolf just because it has a pitiful face..."

A good half-hour later, the stately vampire, now resembling a disheveled and dirty mess, dragged him into the manor. Still, Rerir was surprised by the furry one's tenacity. Without ceremony, he dumped the beast onto the living room carpet and lit the fireplace. It would do. He had already sacrificed his back; this little jerk owed him some shoe-licking after this.

Nevertheless, he treated the wound and wrapped it in clean bandages. The wolf seemed to fall asleep, well, fine—fewer problems that way. Rerir himself, tired and angry, changed clothes, no longer caring about the smell of dog on him, lay down on the sofa, and soon fell asleep.

Rerir woke not to birdsong or the rays of the dawn sun. A smacking sound, unpleasant to unprepared ears, rang out along with a rustling he had dismissed as unimportant in his half-sleep. Opening his eyes, they immediately widened in shock.

The wolf, which had been there just last night, was gone, but in its place was... a completely naked man, with ears and an incredibly fluffy tail covering his modesty.

A werewolf. Not an ordinary wolf. AN ENEMY, whom he HAD patched up himself!! And using his favorite plate from the expensive dinner set, with his food, and eating with these hands! Outrageous!!!

"You...! What the hell..!!?"