Werewolf On A Train

A New Purpose

Alene shook her head. Bits of snow and drops of water flew everwhere. She wiped her face off with the sleeve of her arm. With a sigh, she tucked her brown hair back behind her ears and got to her fet.

“Thanks,” she said and nodded towards Elkandruvel. “I get carried away sometimes.”

Frowning, he nodded back. “You'll need to learn to control that.”

The unspoken “Or else...” hung in the air. It didn't need saying.

Alene swallowed and looked out the window. “Yes... I do.” She sat down again and picked up her coffee. It had lost most of its heat, but still carried a memory of warmth and she cradled the cup in her hands. She didn't need to warm her hands on it – hot and cold didn't much bother her anymore – but the familiarity of the motion brought her comfort. It reminded her of the times before she turned, when the heat from a cup of something warm brought safety and comfort.

“Why are you traveling alone anyway? It seems... unwise – if you don't mind me saying so.”

Outside the window of the train the snow rushed by as ever – a dull white chaos of wind and ice.

“No one I asked wanted to come.” She swallowed. “There's nothing for me back home. The government doesn't recognize the rainbow coyote as a legitimate therianthropic aspect. I'm not allowed to work within any of my fields and not with anything where I have any contact with people. Might as well go.”

Elkandruvel nodded.

“I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but I figured I'd have a better chance of finding something if I'm out looking, than if I'm just sitting at home.” She swallowed and stared down into the coffee – her reflection a mix of dark and darker in the black liquid. “I want to see the world, and the sea. I really want to see the sea.”

“Hmm...” Elkandruvel stroked his chin. “What are you good at?”

Alene frowned at him. Did he have a job for her? Was this an interview. Elves were stinking rich – all of them. Maybe he'd hire her on for something because he felt sorry for her.

She cleared her throat. “People... Actually, scratch that. I used to be good with people, but not anymore. It's weird. I studied tourism to be a field guide in the mountains, and now I can't stand people.” Alene sighed. Way to make a good impression. “I'm pretty good with a camera. I didn't bring one though – it'd probably just get stolen or lost along the way anyway.”

Elkandruvel raised an eyebrow at her, and one of his ears twitched. “Do you write?”

“Yes. Well, no... I don't write, write, like an author, but I know how to write, I brought pens and a notebook – to keep a journal.”

“That's good. You could do something with that.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, you know, lots of people want to travel and see the world, but most of them never do. You could write about your travels and sell articles about exotic places to magazines and such – maybe write a book about it.” He grinned at her. “It'd be something to, and it might get you some money on the side. If you had a camera you could take photos as well.”

Alene's heart beat faster. “That's a great idea. I could do that. I could get a camera as well, and take pictures. Thanks.” She'd just have to figure a safe way to keep it with her. Cameras weren't cheap. Money wasn't an issue, but she hated being wasteful.

“You speak Slatta, right?” said Elkandruvel.

“I do – also Vili and Tijish. Not as well, but enough to get by.”

“That's great.” The elf nodded. “I know someone who runs a traveler's magazine who might be interested in publishing some articles if they're good enough. If you want I can write you an introductory letter.”