She's Golden

Second Phase: Smell Like a Manly Man

"Mine."

If old women in the laundromat on TV can get away with sniffing their laundry detergent to enjoy the fresh scent of Apple Mango Tango or some other kind of island scent, then George figured should could stay perched by the table, inhaling that wonderfully rich scent embedded in that lone white-and-gray sock.

"Mine."

The wolf inside her was alive and yipping.  Never had she felt it so happy.  She thought that it was pretty happy on the night of her phase, running and thrashing around in the forest, but this - she'd never felt anything quite like this.  It was as though the very existence of the wolf had been validated by one certain smell.

The weird thing was, she couldn't really figure out what the smells consisted of exactly.  There were some that she could make out clearly - sweat, woodsy cologne, and body scent.  She knew that this scent was in no way similar to the person who was actually doing the laundry, and for that she was very thankful.  What she couldn't understand was why the scent attracted her so much, and why she wanted to sit here, on this floor, sniffing it all day without a care in the world or a damn to give to anyone who may have noticed.

Okay, maybe that last part was pushing things a little.

Sniff...ah.  Who did this scent belong to?  Her wolf darted back and forth, overcome with curiosity.  Why did Cheap-Cologne-and-Corn-Chip boy have to be the one doing the laundry today?  He reeked to high heaven and he probably wasn't attractive at all - not that she would take the time to look at him.  Her wolf whimpered in frustration.  Who did this scent belong to?  What person carried such a wondrous scent?

Track sent.  Want to track scent.

George pushed away the wolf's demands.  Track this scent?  In a big city like this?  There was no way in hell that would happen.  Maybe if they were in the woods, it might be feasible.  But this was the big city, and while any location was just a matter of minutes away via public transit, there were too many scents between points A and B to be able to track properly.  It was one of the finer points of being a lone wolf in the big city - if someone or something wanted to find you, it would take a great deal of effort to do so.

"And neither of us have that kind of time or inclination," she whispered to her wolf.  "It is what it is."

Her wolf growled at her resignation.  Mate. Want to find Mate.  Mine!

George couldn't help but feel for the wolf.  Even she wanted to do know who this scent belonged to.  But what could she do?  Tracking just wouldn't be possible.  She wouldn't even know where to start...

"Uh...excuse me?"  George's eyes flashed the gold of a wolf again, only this time in terror.  As her eyes returned to normal, her nose flooded with that awful scent of cheap cologne and corn chips and she knew she was busted.  "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Uh...uh..."  She could feel her wolf lowering itself, pushing back its lips and ears and tucking the tail in between the legs.  Meanwhile, the human side frantically searched for a way to get out of this mess.  "I was just picking up your sock, that's all."

"Is that so?" The grin that spread from acne-ridden cheek to acne-ridden cheek clearly belied his disbelief.  Ugh, he had to be a college student, this one.  That fire-engine red hair, pasty white complexion, a belly that indicated one donut supported this assumption.   I bet the Freshman 15 turned in the Freshman 52 in his case, she thought.  "Then why are sniffing it?"

"Ah..."  Crap!  He saw that?  This was bad!  Granted, he didn't hear her taking possession of it, which was a good thing, but this was still bad.  She had to think on her feet.  "Well...er...I was curious, you see?"