Hmm. So, three days late now? I have recently remembered why I chose to do thirty one-shots instead of actually writing one lengthy story. I lose all motivation after two days of not working. Anyhow, yeah, continuation of the last story.

Hello Mr. Wolf (2)

The wolf stared at her.

Ayano stared at the wolf.

The wolf didn't blink.

Ayano didn't blink.

The wolf didn't say anything.

Ayano didn't say anything.

The wolf didn't move.

Ayano didn't move.

The wolf didn't seem to care about her.

Ayano very much cared about the wolf.

It was after a solid chunk of time when Ayano realized that the wolf probably wasn't going to do her harm. Really, if the wolf took the time to stare at her, either it was a really dedicated predator that wouldn't touch its prey until the prey let its guard down, or it honestly didn't care.

Ayano waved her hand again.

The unwavering red eyes followed her hand, the glowing iris' trailing Ayano's limb.

Up, down, left right, circle, square, triangle. The wolf followed all of it, as if it were a sheep that Ayano was herding.

Ayano let down her guard and laughed. A single note, a quiet but cheerful chime.

And that, was when the wolf made its move. Of course, this "move" was a rather lazy one.

The wolf moved out of the shadows, and propped itself down a metre in front of Ayano. It was almost as if the wolf was waiting for her to do something.

In the spirit of the still not killed by the wolf moment, Ayano decided to try something.

Ayano petted the wolf, fondling the wolf's furry head. Ayano shut her eyes tight, so that when the calm red eyes turned feral, she wouldn't see them. If she were to die, at least let it be on her own terms.

If the wolf had wanted to kill her, it probably would've done it earlier. If it still wanted to kill her, Ayano knew she couldn't outrun it. Thus, she decided to pet it, because gigantic wolves were probably friendly. Maybe they were just misunderstood?

That was probably it.

All the stories, all the tales, they were probably just fabrications of nightmares. There was no basis to them, right? Wolves ate meat, but that didn't mean they were monsters did it? They were just trying to survive.

The wolf made no move after a good fifteen seconds. Ayano cracked her eyelids a tad open, and nothing had really changed. Opening her eyes fully, Ayano saw… the exact same things she'd seen before.

"I think," Ayano said, testing the waters to the wolf's tolerance to human voices, "I'll call you Shintaro."

"Iron-Thick-Youth" was a great name. The wolf's strong thick limbs were like the metal, and Ayano assumed the wolf was young, because of its curiosity. Ayano's father had always seemed to know everything, so if the wolf was fully grown, then obviously it wouldn't be curious. Maybe if the wolf was a bit older, it'd have eaten her.

Ayano's skill to craft names from scratch on the spot was unmatched by anyone she knew. Then again, Ayano didn't talk to many people, and of the ones she spoke to regularly, most younger than her.

That detail though, was unimportant. To Ayano, it was completely irrelevant.

The wolf, on the other hand, seemed confused. Maybe it didn't know language, or Ayano's words went way over its head. Either way, Shintaro and her were off to a great start.

"Now, onward to Azami's house!" Ayano declared, trying to psyche herself up again. She started to walk off, hoping that Shintaro was sufficiently confused as to not follow her.

So Ayano checked over her shoulder after a good five minutes.

Guess who was there?

Shintaro was, the big burly wolf trailing behind her like a dog.

Ayano slowly bent down, curious about the wolf. She grabbed a thin stick, and tossed it to the side. Shintaro loped off, and Ayano went on her way. Another ten minutes or so of following the extremely detailed set of instructions she had and Shintaro was back.

The wolf carried the stick in its mouth, which looked tiny compared to Shintaro's wide frame. Ayano wondered whether Shintaro's jaws could also extend far enough to clamp around her head. Physically, they probably could. Whether Shintaro would eat her was another topic entirely.

It was in this manner which Ayano traversed the forest, the sun's friendly rays gradually growing dimmer and dimmer as the hours flew by. It was in this mindless haze, Ayano wondered how far away Azami's house was. The instructions she had weren't the best indicators of distance, rather they told her what direction to go from where, and had one of those fancy needle-y contraptions attached for directions.

As Shintaro bounded by her side, Ayano could feel her stomach growl. She was tempted to look into the covered basket, which was producing a very nice smell, but Ayano knew that to go to Azami's house and eating the gift would be as dumb as harvesting berries to burn. It just wasn't worth it.

It would be another eternity or so to Ayano before she realized that she was only like three quarters of the way there, and the sky had already turned dark. Did visiting Azami include a night stay? Ayano hoped it did, because she suspected Shintaro's presence may have been the only thing that stopped any other animals from attacking her. Of course, Ayano didn't have any guarantee of how long Shintaro would stalk her for either.

How had her father expected Marry to get there before nightfall? The forest wasn't the safest place to be, and Marry was… well, Marry. Marry had never had the best physical endurance at the best of times, and hours after hours of walking? Ayano imagined her friend in a lot of difficulty, not unlike what Ayano went through.

Ayano had entertained a wolf, and walked for hours on end. It wasn't as if the exercise was anything odd, but having to check every few minutes to see if she was going the right way and backtracking when she wasn't was a killer. It was mostly the backtracking part, because every tree looks the same when you're lost.

That was when Ayano heard the howls. Long, rabid and gut-wrenchingly ominous, the wolves began to howl at the moon, performing their nightly ritual. Ayano glanced to her side, where Shintaro prowled in the dark, his raven fur making him blend in to the shadows.

Shintaro made no sounds, no howls, no growls, nothing. It was as if the wolf was too lazy to expend the small amount of effort to live up to a wolf's fairy tale image of a psychotic moon murderer. Of that, Ayano was glad. She wasn't particularly fond of psychotic moon murderers. Ayano supposed it was just a fact of life. No one did, as far as she knew.

A slight pant from the right, and Ayano froze in place, a little scared, more terrified. It was dark. Wolves were out and about, and even if Shintaro had yet to kill her, other ones may. In the moon's pale light, Ayano couldn't see so much as to be so hyperalert that she could safe her own life, if need be. She also didn't have a weapon of any sort, not that it'd help.

What she did have, was Shintaro, who was on her left, still following her even after the minutes turned to hours, and hours to half a day. The wolf nudged her, and Ayano continued going on her way. The moonlight was enough that she could just barely read her guidelines.

Then a guttural growl made Ayano pause in place again. It came from her right, another enormous creature leaping out from the shadows.

Ayano ducked.

The creature, the wolf collided with Shintaro, sending the two rolling into a tree. Some growling, some barking, some whining and some howling. Ayano watched their odd progression from her original vantage point. Should she run? Should she leave Shintaro and the other wolf and get going to Azami's house? Should she stay and risk dying to this new wolf, or the others that were inevitably in the area?

All tough questions. Ayano slowly backed away from the two grappling wolves, knowing that sprinting would draw needless attention. It would be loud, and obviously noticed. Hopefully Ayano could just walk out of this situation. Hopefully.

Moments later the two wolves came back up, as if their wrestling session was like a plaything to them as it was to Kido and Kano. Kido always won, but Kano always challenged her. Why were wolves reminding Ayano of her two younger friends?

The two wolves steadily approached her, slowly, as if mocking her slow pace. Shintaro stood in front of the other, having won the scuffle. Were they going to maul her? Were they both going to follow her all the way to Azami's house? According to her sheaf of parchment, Ayano could faintly make out that she was almost there. Almost. She might never get there if the wolves decide to kill her here.

Then Shintaro nudges her, as if to say get on with it. Ayano obediently begins to walk, wondering if at any second, another wolf would leap onto her. Nothing. Ayano wonders if she would be their entertainment, prey that would run but eventually caught and killed. Still nothing.

For another half hour, Ayano followed her instructions, all the while curious about why the wolves were following her. Curiosity? Amusement? Burning carbs? Ayano put it down as curiosity.

Most humans feared wolves. In stories wolves were the deniers of the happily ever after, the villain, the oh-so-frightful enemy that steals livestock in the shadows of the night. But did humans understand them? Did humans interact with wolves in person? Or did they base all that off assumptions, off of mere speculation?

Were the wolves to blame for eating?

Were the wolves to blame for taking food conveniently boxed in?

Were the wolves to blame for the colour of their fur?

Were the wolves to blame for a human's take on their nature?

No, no no no.

Ayano sighed, wondering when the wolves would leave. Would they follow her all the way to Azami's house? Would Azami think that the village was trying to get her killed by herding wolves to her residence? Ayano knew that Azami was respected by the village, but also feared, as if the old lady were a monster in disguise.

Neither wolf made any noise, neither Shintaro nor his follower. They occasionally batted at each other, but even then the two kept their silence. Ayano almost felt like a shepherd, leading the two very large and not-livestock animals by the nose.

Maybe they knew Azami. Maybe these wolves were just misunderstood, maybe these ones were Azami's pets. Maybe the wolves just pretend to be scary and evil so that humans would leave them alone.

Before she knew it, Ayano found herself at the last instruction of the list.

Keep moving North until you see the house. Knock once, but do not knock again. Your grandmother will come when she feels the need to.

Ayano knew that Azami wasn't her grandmother, but she wondered why knocking more than once was bad. Was it rude or disturbing?

A short minute of walking, and Ayano's expedition was finished. The house wasn't a large amazing mansion, but rather a homely looking two floor building. It looked unlike anything Ayano had ever seen before, with a small set of steps rising up to the main entrance, the whole thing crafted in ways Ayano didn't understand.

Ayano pushed past the fence, striding up to the door. Ayano glanced behind her, the wolves staying behind the fence. Were they afraid of Azami? An old grandmother?

Ayano knocked once, firmly and strong on the door. As she waited, she stretched her sore muscles. The walking wasn't too strenuous on its own, but the sheer distance made it almost painful. While carefully following the needle or worrying about the wolves, Ayano had ignored it, dismissed it, but without anything to concentrate on, it was the only thing that dominated her thoughts.

Why was it taking so long? What if Azami wasn't home? Ayano carefully placed the instructions and gift basket down on the stairs, sitting to stretch her legs. Ayano stretched her upper body one way, then the other, feeling the burn in the back of her legs.

Ayano yawned. It was late, Azami wasn't answering, and she had nothing to do. Her limbs were worn out, she was awfully tired, and there was nothing to do. Ayano could only wait on the wooden platform in front of the door, and there was nothing she could do.

Ayano didn't know when exactly she fell asleep, but on that hazy platform at midnight, she leaned against the door. To Ayano, it was as comfortable as the cotton back at home, the solid wooden frame as soft as the fabrics from the city.

What Ayano did know, was that when she woke up, she was in a foreign building. It seemed there were a thousand books carefully arranged on shelves, and she was lying in what felt like a comfortable bed. Ayano glanced to the side, a see-through expanse of some magical material showing her a wonderful view of the blinking lights, the stars, the wonders above and beyond.

"Awake already?"

Ayano turned around, and she saw a girl shorter than her. The girl had a lengthy trail of black hair swinging from her head, falling past her knees, a fancy city-like red ribbon tying it up. The girl looked young, but in a way resembled Marry, and if you substituted the black clothes and hair for white, the red accessories for a lighter shade, they might look almost identical.

Then Ayano realized. It was Azami. This fairy-like entity, this short smug-looking "girl" was Marry's grandmother.

The "grandmother", the "old lady", "the witch", these were all horribly inaccurate ways of referring to Azami. Azami was much more than that, in her self-assured expression to the youthful brilliance that she exuded.

This was the entity known as Azami.

This was Azami.

Hm. I'm a bit iffy about how it ended, but eh, oh well.