The ranch was tidy, but not to much so. No Martha Stewart here. There was a house, 2 barns and a tractor shed. I smelled various farm animals. But, no horses. It is hard for werewolves to keep horses.
The scent of werewolf was in the soil. I made the coyotes stop and we watched the house for about 5 minutes. I neither saw of heard or smelled anything move outside or around the house.
A male answered the door. He was young, wore a soiled John Deere baseball cap. He sniffed at me, nodded, said, "Come on in."
Only the female coyote went in with me. Inside was another male and a female. The female werewolf greeted the coyote warmly in a way that suggested they visited often.
The coyote explained where she had found me. They asked where I was from. The older male offered me a beer. I accepted. Never turn down a beer from a werewolf. It is very bad form.
I could tell something was on their minds, that the coyote had brought me here for some reason. I told them that. They all 3 exchanged glances.
The older male said, "Things have changed in these parts." I said, "How?" He said they didn't like going out at night.
My mouth fell open. Wolves and werewolves live for the night. For a werewolf to be afraid to go out at night is very strange. Worse than strange. I asked why.
"There's something out there," the younger male said. "What?" I said. The 2 males shook their heads. "Something we ain't never caught scent of before," said the female. She was stroking the coyote as the coyote ate from a bowl of meat scraps.
They told how several years ago things began to change. They had been on that ranch for several decades, living a good life, as ranchers by day, going at at nights as they chose, only taking deer and, mostly, their own stock at night when they felt the need. They never bothered their neighbors, even a couple times warned off or ran off some renegade werewolves who wandered into the area.
Then about 2 years ago they started smelling something new on the wind. They could not identify it. It was like nothing they had ever smelled before. And they started feeling uneasy nights. Determined, they began going out nights on patrol, to find and put a name to this new scent, this anxiety.
There used to be 4 of them, another female, younger. Six months ago she went out one night, alone, and never came back. They never found any sign or scent of her.
Now they rarely go out at night. Several times they have had other werewolves come to help them go out at night in numbers, in pack-strength. But, on those nights they see nothing. They do the same for other werewolves. "Last fall we went to the place of some wolves down by Latham. They had the same problems, had lost some stock, had that scent around, needed some extra muscle and noses." Nothing happened. But when they go back they found something had killed half of their sheep, slaughtered in a very messy manner, as if to send a message.
I started to worry about Jack and the rest back at camp. I felt the need to bolt and get back there. I knew that Jack kept a .40 strapped to his leg and a 12 ga. with rifle slugs neaby. Even with him being a former Ranger, I was anxious. I needed to be there to back him up.
They said they had been hearing that werewolves and weredogs were talking more, coming together with words, less tooth and claw. They asked me if that was true. I said it was.
Werewolves are not as well organized and connected as weredogs. It is not their way to be so. They like their solitude, being disconnected, unless amongst their pack. These 3 were feeling the exposure of that.
That is when I told them about the neo's. They all 3 leaned forward as they listened, even the coyote leaned in.
They asked if I could carry their situation to my pack and to other werewolves and weredogs at large. They could also use some support, they said. "If there are any werewolves...or weredogs that would like to come to the country for a spell, we can be hospitable," said the female.
We talked about other things. The older werewolf had fought in Nam. So, we talked of Nam. He was III Corps. I was I Corps. Werewolves don't usually serve in militaries. They have a hard time with authority. He said he turned to werewolf when his unit was wiped out and made his way to Europe, where he lived for a while. So, he was listed as KIA. They never found his body, of course. Said he killed as many VC as he could on his way out of SE Asia. He said he had his fill of killing for quite a while after that. "Man is the ultimate killing machine," he said. "We werewolves don't even come close." I wondered if that was still true, in light of the neo's, but did not say so out loud.
I told them I had to get back. The younger male said, "Yeah, hope your humans are still there to get back to." The female said it was unlikely they were harmed. Whatever it was that was out there would not likely attack the first night. "It watches a while before it moves in on you," she said.
The 5 of us, me, the 3 werewolves and the coyote, made it back to the camp very quickly, not too long before dawn. I told the werewolves I would relay their info and needs. I had their phone number, gave them mine, told them to get online and get email accounts. They groused at that, but said they would.
I told the coyote thank you and rubbed noses with her before I slipped back into camp and over to the tent. I sensed them watching. Then they were gone. It was less than 20 minutes before I heard the tear of the zipper and Jack came out of the tent. "Hey, Chester, ol boy," he said. He sat on the ground next to me and put on his boots. "You been running off the coyotes all night? Huh? Good boy." He massaged my flank some before he stood and went over to get the fire going for breakfast.
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