Standing before her, tall and foreboding, was her supposed doctor...
His eyes briefly widened behind his long curtain of hair. Muscles bulged under his white coat, smoothly tracing every crevice of his body, slightly wavering in the ventilation wind...
"Save me my fucking dignity," She pulled away, "Stop touching me."
The tanner man pinched the bridge of his nose before standing to his full height. "Just don't move around too much," he commanded.
This man wasn't the beta yet but was already ordering people around. She desperately wanted to show him he was way in over his head.
An entourage of werewolves jogged toward them, a few members completely nude due to recently shifting. One of them handed out black clothes from a large backpack for them to wear.
"Rogues were dispatched." A male pulling on boxers told Greyson, "For some reason, they were ignoring Noah."
The teenage boy shifted from one leg to another while standing amongst the patrol wolves. He struggled to make eye contact with the restrained woman.
A tall, slender woman comes into view. She is a young adult with long Fulani braids cascading down her shoulders—the black turning into a gentle blonde at the tips. Her sharp jaws make her soft red lips look plump.
Shivering everyone- a gust of wind made the trees rustle quietly. Leaves and acorns fell- raining atop them all like gentle rain.
She pulled on a tight pair of black nylon pants and a sports bra. Calamity found it strange that werewolves were clothing themselves- a practice they never used to do the last time she remembers.
Werewolves never cared about nudity... why do they care now?
Uplifting her head- the woman flared her nostrils and looked around. "It stinks... where's the 5th rogue?" She fanned a hand in front of her face.
Despite her yelling, everyone constantly brought up her smell like it meant nothing.
Is this how they treat homeless people?
Calamity's rage and humiliation bubbled over, "Can we stop talking about my fucking stench?" She spat and leaned forward, "I'm gonna bop the next fucker who brings it up in the nose."
Greyson gestured to the swearing woman, "It's coming from her."
The olive-toned lady widened her auburn eyes. "Seriously?" she approached Calamity with her nose slightly wrinkled. "There's no way... How is she talking, let alone in human form?"
"I don't know!" Greyson threw his hands up, exasperated.
Calamity's upper lip curled up, her nose wrinkling angrily as her pupils got smaller. She felt dehumanized—like a wild animal they had just caught in the Everglades.
"FUCK OFF!" She yowled, "I thought it was 2024, but it's not; my wolf is fucking dead, you're all fucking annoying, AND GOD- DAMN-" The mohawked woman clenched her restrained hands, "I'M HUNGRY AS HELL!"
Greyson cracked his knuckles and began pacing, "I knew she was going to be a problem..." He muttered, "I'll be standing over here."
The beta heir wandered toward a nearby tree and leaned against it. He folded his arms over his muscular chest- angling his head away in a desperate attempt to ignore her irritating existence. He was already acting edgy.
She watched the black woman approach and crouch in front of her. "I'm sorry about him," she apologized. "This situation is a bit unique."
Calamity wasn't enthused- throwing her an exasperated expression.
The woman sighed, "I'm Neith," She offered a hand to shake.
Quietly appreciating her treating her like a normal werewolf... she lifted her restrained hands and shook Neith's, "... Calamity."
Neith smiled, "Great to meet you." She chuckled, "I know you're bothered about us talking about your scent, but please understand..."
She paused at the sight of Calamity's scoff before continuing, "Without seeing you... you smell identical to a rogue." She clarified, "And no one expects to see a rogue that doesn't look like a zombie."
Taking a short moment to explain things to Calamity has allowed her a moment to soothe herself.
She ducked her head and stared at her lap- quietly contemplating.
"We're going to take you to the pack house." Neith blurted.
Calamity whipped her head up, "What?" She tensed, "No, I don't want to go there."
In the distance, Greyson spoke loud enough for them to hear: " I told you she'd be a problem."
Other wolves on the patrol began setting a perimeter, ensuring their safety in case rogues were to run in and attack. Due to Calamity's presence, they couldn't rely on their sense of smell.
God, she was just fucking everything up, wasn't she? Her mind has been falling into a deep depression recently.
Neith glared over her shoulder at the future beta before returning to Calamity, "I promise it'll be okay." She ensured, "We want to see if you're okay in the infirmary."
Pursing her lips, the brunette picked at her nails, "You're not taking me to the cells..." She narrowed her eyes, "Right?"
Of course, Neith nodded.
"Right."
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