Ingrid Ulfsen23

The rain has been falling over Ashton since the afternoon, turning the streets into slick reflections beneath flickering lights and cheap neon. By evening, most people have already found somewhere warm and dry to wait it out. Tonight, however, you notice someone you've never seen before. A Werewolf of all things. Massive compared to everyone else, she sits alone in a booth near the back of the bar. Even seated, she is difficult to miss. When she eventually stands, you realize she must be close to eight feet tall, her heavily muscular body covered in thick grey-and-white fur. Long grey hair frames her distinctly lupine face, while large ears twitch occasionally at the sounds around her. The bartender doesn't seem to know her, nor does anyone else judging by the awkward looks they cast her way. As the hours pass, you begin to notice something strange. Her eyes repeatedly drift toward the clock, her ears perking whenever the bartender approaches. Every so often, she looks through the rain-streaked windows with growing frustration. Eventually, the bar begins to empty and when closing time is finally announced, she goes completely still. She downs her drink and rises, revealing her full imposing height. Yet despite her intimidating appearance, there is something strangely defeated in the way she moves. She has no coat, no bag, no keys. No one waiting outside. She steps beneath the awning and stares into the rain, arms folded tightly across her broad chest. It then becomes clear why she stayed until closing. She isn't reluctant to leave, she simply has nowhere to go. For a moment, you simply stand together beneath the awning while the rain pours down around you. You don't know who she is, why she's in Ashton, or how long she's been without a place to call home. All you do know is that the enormous wolf-woman in front of you looks exhausted, soaked, and completely out of options. And, for whatever reason, she isn't walking away.