Connor and the Wolves - 14. The Festival

Connor spun through the large kitchen, juggling various pots and pans. Bacon sizzled on the range, with eggs cooking on a second burner. This was the last free weekend he’d have, and he was determined to enjoy his food. Next week, track meets started, and eating heavy meals filled with peppers would only hurt his running.
Tight jeans hugged his body, and his shirt showed off his torso. It was a little risky running around like this. According to his parents, he was begging for a werewolf to notice him. But he preferred the compressing clothes. It was like a permanent hug. Besides, he’d be changing around noon.
A door closed upstairs. Connor scooped up some bacon and a couple of eggs that were done, setting them haphazardly on a plate. He turned toward the kitchen door as his mother came in.
Her black hair sat in a tight bun. A royal blue shirt rested above burgundy pants, marking her as a city guard. On her chest, a silver wolf’s head badge announced that she was Wolf Patrol, part of the force that answered calls of werewolf related crimes.
“Nearly eight,” Emma said, grabbing the plate Connor offered. “Are you still going to the fair?”
“That’s the plan, if you’re still driving.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, but I’m running late. I can’t take you across town and get back to the office in time.”
Connor shrugged. It was nothing he hadn’t expected.
“I have bus money,” he said, scraping the last of breakfast onto another plate.
“Good.” Emma slid her empty plate onto the counter, and Connor began washing it. “I’ll see you tonight, then. Make sure you wear-”
“-Deodorant, yeah,” Connor sighed. “I have that and my masker if I need it. And extra for after the dunk tank.”
“Good,” Emma said. “It’s still close to the full moon.”
And then it would be close to the new moon, and then the full moon again. There was never any break from the werewolf menace. Connor couldn’t see why his mother had let a werewolf turn her — she seemed to fear lycanthropes almost as much as his father hated them.
He continued rinsing the dishes, slipping them one by one into the dishwasher. One of life’s pleasures: having a machine clean the plates. A joy he didn’t get enough of.
The front door closed hard, echoing through the house. Running late…. Free from his mother’s gaze, Connor rolled his eyes. They’d planned the day out a week ago. Leave at eight, dropping him off at eight thirty, picking him up around six. He doubted that was happening now — work called. His guild had an easier time keeping to plans they made.
Wolfing down his food, Connor rinsed the last of the dishes. He shoved a handful of coins in his pocket and grabbed his phone and bag before hurrying from the house. Locking the door behind him, Connor jogged down the rows of houses. He slipped out the gate and sprinted toward the bus stop, catching the bus just before it drove off.
The trip to Quarian Academy was made in blissful peace. Connor jumped off the bus right outside the campus. Already he could see crowds of people on the football pitch roaming between various tents and booths.
Connor strode confidently down a line of booths, stopping before the dunk tank. Alastair was filling the pool with water, and Connor picked up a bag, tossing it at the target.
There was a loud ding, but the seat stayed up.
“Son of a-!” Alastair spun, growling at Connor. “Where did you come from?”
“Dropped from the sky like one of Lynestra’s messengers,” Connor smirked. “I wanted to check the seat. No point running a dunk tank that doesn’t dunk. We’d have a riot.”
He reached into the tank, pressing the seat down and smacking the trigger again. Another ding sounded, and this time the seat dropped.
“So, who’d you get for the morning shift?” Connor asked, resetting the seat.
“One of the wolves on the cross-country team,” Alastair grunted. “Sandolin’s in charge until noon.”
Connor eyed the elven coach of the werewolf cross-country team, who was busy setting up a table near the tank. A girl stood near him, dressed in baggy shorts and a dark shirt — Ruby, if Connor wasn’t mistaken. She was one of the better runners, after Devyn.
“I think it’s set up,” Alastair said, pulling Connor’s attention back to him.
“Great. Is there anything else that needs to be done?”
“Just testing it, but you already took care of that.” Alastair waved Connor off. “Go have fun. Just be back at 1130.”
“Deal.”
Connor slung his bag under the table before taking off into the field. He was going to enjoy his dryness while he could.

“Hey, Dogmeat! Where’ve you been?”
Connor jogged up to the grey neko from the tryouts, flashing a grin at him. All around was the sound of families enjoying a weekend morning outside, pastries being sold, small carvings handed out or books traded. It lent a festive mood to the school, one that only fed Connor’s excitement. There were so many pleasures in life, if you were lucky enough to find them.
The neko’s fingers typed quickly, his phone speaking for him as Devyn and Dylan hurried toward the school
“I’ve been sick. And my name is Jason, not Dogmeat.”
“But you’re a neko. And wolves love neko meat,” Connor smirked.
“Connor, leave him alone.”
Connor groaned as Brienne stopped beside them. The girl always had to ruin his fun.
“How are you feeling, Jason? Don’t worry about Connor. He only wishes he was a wolf.”
“Hey! I’ll have you know a wolf offered herself to me if I win next weekend,” Connor pouted.
Not strictly true; his mother had offered to take him out for a victory dinner. But they didn’t need to know it was his mother. Or that she’d probably forget. Or be too busy.
Jason’s thumbs flew over his phone, the monotone of the device grating on Connor’s ears as it spoke for the neko.
“No, you need a guy to change you.”
“What? Aw, fuck me…” Connor grumbled, Brienne letting out a laugh. “I don’t want to get humped by a wolf.”
Though the thought did have a certain appeal… as long as they used protection. Connor certainly didn’t want to change — both his parents would kill him.
“I heard someone say wolves are being changed through bites too,” Brienne grinned.
Jason frowned, shaking his head.
“I don’t think so. It makes no sense. Why would the disease transfer through sex and saliva?” his phone denied.
Brienne shrugged.
“I don’t know. I’m not a healer.”
Jason began tapping frantically on his phone. Connor stared at him, bemused. It really wasn’t that important; he hadn’t even mentioned wanting to become a werewolf. That was all Brienne.
“There is no proof for the theory that wolf saliva can start the change.”
“Well, there goes that idea,” Connor sighed dramatically. “Whatever will I do with these lustful urges?”
“Why do you even want to be a wolf? You’d have to leave the team, and everyone knows Alastair is the best coach ever,” Brienne smirked. “Or are you just tired of losing to me?”
Connor rolled his eyes.
“He’s probably jealous of Devyn,” Jason typed out.
“Am not.”
“Has to be,” Brienne agreed.
“Oh look, my sister’s here with the brownies. Catch you later, Dogmeat,” Connor said quickly.
He jogged off into a crowd, leaving the other two to continue bashing him behind his back. Well, as long as they were happy, he could brush it off. Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t rib Brienne constantly. Jason would just add to that lonely number.
More worrying was the thought of sleeping with a werewolf. Strange feelings stirred within him. Emma wouldn’t care, as long as he was safe, but River….
Connor shook his head, heading deeper into the festival. His father could not know he was having these thoughts.

Fiddles filled the air. Connor nodded his head to the music, dangling his feet over the edge of the seat. He was drying out again, a bad sign for the dunk tank. But at least the music was nice, even if he couldn’t get as many people to throw balls at him.
A black-haired kid raced past the tank — the werewolf from the locker room. Connor almost called after him, but he looked like he was in a hurry. Maybe later. If he came this way once, he’d probably return this way later.
Sure enough, he saw the boy running back in his direction minutes later, hands loaded down with food. Sighing internally, Connor let him go again. No sense making him miss lunch.
Speaking of lunch, his stomach was grumbling, even after the large breakfast he’d eaten that morning. The bake sale and competition going on was not helping matters at all, but Connor couldn’t exactly run off to grab lunch. He’d just have to make up for it at dinner.
“Congratulations to Devyn Farin on finishing in an astonishing twenty-two seconds!” An announcer called a few minutes later.
“Of course he’d win the pie-eating contest,” Connor chuckled. “Has to be first in everything.”
Devyn wasn’t the only one. Running was fun, but Connor wasn’t going to let someone else beat him in his favourite sport. It was amusing that Devyn’s competitiveness transferred to eating pies too — maybe Connor should try to get in on that next year.
“Hey Brienne!”
Connor waved at the girl as she passed. Brienne glanced over and stopped.
“Oh, this is just too good. Alastair roped you into being the dunkee?”
“I volunteered. It was supposed to be hot today.” Connor grinned at Brienne. “I suppose getting wet would have ruined your looks… if you had any.”
“Nice try, but I already paid,” Brienne snorted. “Ruby got all nice and wet.”
“Ooh, little werewolf action going on there?”
“Takes a werewolf lover to know another. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to find Dylan.”
“Oh sure, go run off to your catboy.” A thought struck him. “Wait, which one is yours? I know you’re not chasing both of them.”
“Said like someone who’s jealous,” Brienne called over her shoulder as she strode away.
Connor snorted. He knew better than to pursue a neko. His father was living proof that falling for a neko was a horrible idea.
He sat back in the tank as traffic plummeted. Head bobbing along to the Dueling Elves fiddling near centre field, Connor contemplated asking for a break. Maybe he could get lunch — no one was around, anyway. But he couldn’t. He had a job to do.

Brienne returned a few hours later, both nekos in tow. Connor shook his head, biting back a laugh. She almost looked like she was trying to build a harem of cats.
“Well, look what the human dragged in,” he smirked as the trio approached.
“Dragged? Nah, I told Jason what you said. He thinks you deserve a good dunking,” Brienne said.
“I’m just here to enjoy the show,” Dylan added with a grin.
“Are those muscles just for show?” Connor asked, turning on Jason. “Or can you actually throw?”
Rolling his eyes, Jason set a copper in a box on the table. Connor raised an eyebrow. One shot. Someone was confident.
Brienne tossed another copper on the table.
“Looks like someone’s not confident in you,” Connor leered. “What’s the matter, Brienne? Worried your neko might not have what it takes?”
Jason tossed a sack in the air, testing its heft. He drew his arm back and hurled the missile at the target. The sack smacked into the barrier behind the target, and Connor grinned.
“Hey, you’re mute, right?”
Jason’s eyes narrowed.
“Did you know when you get an erection, it makes a sound?”
A strange smirk appeared on Dylan’s face, almost as if the other neko was fighting back a laugh. Beside him, Jason eyed the target, testing the second sack.
“Yeah, it goes-”
DING!
Connor yelped as he plummeted into the tank. His feet hit the bottom, and he pushed up, gasping as his head broke the surface of the water.
“He’s mute, not deaf, you dumbass,” Dylan laughed. “He can hear just fine.”
“Well shit, why didn’t he tell me?”
Shaking his head hard, Connor reset the seat and climbed back on. Jason stared him down, all but glowering at the human.
“No hard feelings, right, Dogmeat?”
Jason’s face cracked, a grin slipping across his lips. He raised a thumb.
“You sure you don’t want to get Devyn over here to chase him?” Brienne grinned at the neko.
Jason shook his head, shaking with silent laughter.
“Devyn? I didn’t realise you knew him,” Connor said.
“Jason is Devyn’s brother,” Dylan said.
“Well fuck, I’m really missing a lot here, aren’t I?” Connor scratched his head, wiping water from his forehead. “We’ll have to catch up later. And if you see anyone who could use a good ribbing, send them my way. Gotta earn the gold for my trip to Mydara.”
“Yes, because we all know you’ll make it to Mydara this year,” Brienne scoffed. “I’ll send people your way. I’ll need the extra gold for my trip.”
“Enjoy your dreams,” Connor smirked.
“Or, the two of you can work hard and both get to Mydara.” Sandolin approached the tank. “I’m all for friendly competition, but you’re fighting against each other here when you could work together.”
“Hey, if it means more people get to drown Connor, I’m happy to send people this way,” Brienne shrugged.
“Ouch.” Connor set a hand over his heart. “What did I do to earn your hatred?”
“Have you seen Coach Alastair? He’s supposed to be running the booth,” Sandolin brushed off the squabbling.
“He said something about a bathroom break.” Connor glanced around, searching for the human. “Long break.” He spotted Devyn trudging toward them, and Connor raised his hand, waving the werewolf over. “Hey Devyn! Want to dunk me in the tank? A little payback for spilling your food?”
“Better make it fast,” Sandolin said as Devyn approached. “We should start draining the tank soon.”
“Mom and Dad are leaving,” Devyn said to Jason.
“Oh, my dads are probably heading out too,” Dylan said. “I’ll see you later Brienne.”
The calico ran off, vanishing into the festival.
“So how about it?” Connor asked, eyeing Devyn.
“What about what?”
“Do you want to dunk me?”
Devyn shrugged.
“I can’t. I’d fall over.”
Connor frowned. He hadn’t thought about that. Even now, the werewolf was leaning on his cane to stay up. It would be hard to stay upright if he tried throwing anything.
“Tough break. I’ll have to find some other way to pay you back for lunch.”
“You already did.” Devyn stared back at him, a strange look on the werewolf’s face. “Didn’t you? I don’t remember.”
“I suppose I did.” Connor shrugged.
“Alright Connor, go get changed,” Sandolin said.
Connor hopped off his seat, splashing into the water below. He climbed out of the tank and shook, splashing water everywhere.
“Okay, I’ll be back to help in a couple of minutes,” he said, grabbing his bag from under the table.

The pitch felt empty after the ordered chaos of the fair. Everything was cleaned and the field returned to its usual state. Devyn and Jason were the last to head home, leaving Connor alone.
He finished his third lap around the track, stretching his legs out after sitting for so long. Checking his phone, he let out a frustrated sigh. Six-thirty. His mother clearly was not picking him up. Time to start walking to the bus stop.
Crossing the car park, Connor clipped his earbuds in. A car horn made him jump and he bit back a curse as an earbud fell off. He glanced around, searching for his mom’s black Eagle, but there was only a red Bug.
“Hey Connor. Waiting on a ride?” Sandolin called from the car.
“Eh, I think she bailed,” Connor brushed off. “I’ll just take the bus.”
“Nonsense. You’re over on the west side of town, right? That’s nearly an hour on the bus. Hop in; I can get you there in half that time.”
“My mom told me not to get in cars with werewolves,” Connor smirked, sliding into the back seat. “Thanks, Coach.”
Sandolin laughed.
“I’ll let Coach Alastair know you’re walking to the next meet then. Don’t worry, we’ll get you home safe. Just got to drop Emry off first.”
Connor smiled at the mousy werewolf sitting beside him.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” Emry whispered.
“Ah, another quiet type. I didn’t see you on the bus last year. Are you new to the team?”
The werewolf nodded, falling against Connor as Sandolin turned out of the car park. He drew back quickly, muttering an apology. Curling up as far from Connor as he could, Emry stared out the window, as though he were scared just looking at Connor would offend the human.
“I’m not going to bite.” Connor leaned against his own window, trying to give Emry more space to stretch out.
Leaning forward, Emry said something Connor couldn’t understand to Sandolin. The elf glanced back in the mirror and nodded. A few minutes later, he pulled over.
“Thanks Coach,” Emry said as he slid out of the car.
“No problem. Make sure you work on your arm exercises. A good wolf can’t run on two legs.”
“I will.”
The door closed, and Sandolin waited for Emry to step away from the car before driving off.
“Okay, west Astara. You want to give me an address?” he asked, looking back at Connor.
“Riverview Meadows,” Connor said. “You can drop me off outside the gate. I wouldn’t want to sully you with all the nosy infighting that goes on there.”
“Please,” Sandolin scoffed. “It can’t be much worse than NAP’s Inter-Pack Night. Get wolves from all over the city and they all start acting like membership to a specific pack actually means something.”
“At least in a pack you aren’t reported for putting a blue handprint on your mailbox.” Connor smirked. “I should feel bad for Miss Anise, but she had it coming.”
And no one had questioned why the handprint was child-sized. The place was cut-throat.
“I heard that place is stringently anti-wolf,” Sandolin mentioned.
Connor shrugged.
“It is. You can’t get in if you’re a wolf. Of course, they come up with all sorts of other petty reasons for denying werewolves. Too much hair, too noisy, they smell. That way it’s not technically illegal. Mom’s Wolf Patrol though, so she gets a pass. Free security and all that. She just has to be off-site for the full moon. Usually working.”
“Makes me glad there are pack houses,” Sandolin muttered.
“Honestly, same. I’d probably be happier there, but Mom got the place before she turned, so we’re stuck there. She doesn’t want to join a pack for whatever reason.”
“Eh, some wolves take offense to the Patrol, so it’s probably for the best.” Sandolin stared ahead as he drove, giving a dismissive shrug. “I’ve heard a lot of trauma stories starting with the Patrol. Of course, I’m coming at it from the perspective of a wolf. It might be different on the other side.”
“Really? I always heard the Patrol kept both wolves and non-wolves safe.” Connor frowned. Clearly his parents weren’t giving him the full picture. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Well, that puts a damper on my ambitions to be the fastest man and werewolf ever.”
“Oh? Were you thinking of being changed?” Sandolin asked, glancing at the mirror. “You’re already a good runner, and you don’t neglect your upper body either. You’d make a great wolf runner. Not that I’m encouraging this at all.”
“It was a joke,” Connor chuckled. “My parents would have my head.”
“Are they the only ones stopping you?”
Connor shrugged.
“I never really thought about it. I’m happy with who I am.”
“That’s fair.”
Sandolin pulled up beside the gate. Connor grabbed his bag, making sure he had everything he’d brought with him.
“Thanks for your help today.”
“It was no problem at all.” Conner grinned. “I probably should help — that money’s gonna pay for my room in Mydara.”
“You and Devyn,” Sandolin chuckled. “I’m hoping I can get Ruby in there too. She and Devyn run well together.”
“What about the wolf sprinters?”
“Quarian usually doesn’t have a good showing in short distance, at least where werewolves are concerned.” Sandolin frowned. “Elias Academy is actually pretty decent there, though their distance runners suffer. With any luck, I’ll get Ruby interested in the 800 metre run. It would be rough, but I think she could do it.”
“Gods, I could never run the 800,” Connor muttered. “Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem. Have a good weekend.”
Closing the door, Connor waved at Sandolin before punching in the gate code. A minute later, he pushed through his front door and into a world of savoury smells.
“That explains why she didn’t pick me up…” he muttered, heading to his room.
He took a few minutes to put everything away. With everything organised properly, Connor went down to the kitchen.
“Hard day?” he asked, crossing the room to open the fridge.
“Wolf bit an elf,” Emma said, stirring a pot of noodles. “Turned out to be a neko. Now the elf’s family is taking the wolf to court for damages.” She froze. “Wait… Shit, I was supposed to pick you up!”
“I got a ride from Coach Sandolin.”
“The werewolf coach?” Connor felt Emma’s eyes boring into his back as he poured a glass of milk. “You should have called.”
“The werewolf who is trusted to coach other werewolves alongside a nonwolf track and cross-country team,” Connor said. “I go to a pack school. If you were really that worried about me being around werewolves, I’d be going to Jasper or Arithal High.” He finished his milk and rinsed out the cup. “I’m going to take a shower.”
His mother didn’t bother answering, focusing on the pasta. Connor left the room. He had probably half an hour to wash up before dinner, and he was going to take advantage of every second.