"A wagging tail can mean so many things..." -dodie smith

Rey stood with her hand on her hip, her hat in her free hand, her ears held back and her nose to the wind as the breeze picked up. She stood on the outskirts of Echo, Oregon, or at least that's what the sign said, and she was scenting the air to see how friendly the place would be to a stranger. This particular town was small compared to the last one she had been in earlier that month, probably at least half the size. It was a cute little town though, lots of historic background and she could smell the animals from where she stood. The freeway was about a mile behind her, and she liked that this town was hidden from view of however many people would be passing by as she stood there with her ears bare. Dorian was sitting next to her, leaning ever so slightly into her leg, and there was a gentle warmth coming from his shedding winter coat.

It was difficult to smell the friendliness, not that it had a distinct smell or anything like that, but it was still noticeable to Rey's keen nose. Something in the smells that she pulled into her nose that said there was no danger here, nothing to be afraid of. There was death in the air, nothing fresh, and lots of normal human smells like soap or toothpaste. Her ears pricked at the scream of a hawk circling high overhead, and her tail twitched. But other than that, she made no movements, just sniffed the air, concentrating on the smells she was receiving. She could smell food, and if not for the wind she might have been able to hear the whisper of human voices or even the bark of some canine. She could smell the dogs that she knew were in the town, and they smelled happy. Sadness had a sour tinge, and she was getting nothing sour in her nose, which meant that the people were nice enough. But how would they treat a stranger? That was her only concern.

Dorian looked up at her and whined, practically the only noise he ever made, and she opened her amber eyes to look down at him. "Seems OK to me. What about you?" He blinked at her, and then he wagged his tail and whined again, he thought it smelled fine and he was anxious to get some normal food for a change. They had been walking a long time and this was the first town they had encountered in over a week. They were both sick of eating birds and rabbits, not that rabbits tasted bad, even raw they had a certain flavor that made the two friends salivate. But a hamburger, even half eaten and fished out of the garbage or off a stranger's table was better than simple rabbit meat. Rey turned back toward the town and nodded, "Alrighty then." She said as she pulled her beanie back over her ears, "Let's go test the waters. Worst case scenario, they chase us out of town."

Dorian made a strange wheezing sound that let Rey know he was laughing, probably remembering the time they were chased from a town in Idaho after he had knocked over some garbage cans and dirtied an expensive car in pursuit of an old woman's cat. He didn't like cats, thought they were food. And he found their terror at the thought of a big shaggy dog snapping at their tails to be the funniest thing in all creation. Rey pressed her lips together as she looked at his smiling face, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as a slob of drool fell onto her shoe. "You leave the cats alone." She growled, and then started walking, Dorian following behind her, wheezing all the way.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Scratch a dog and you'll find a permanent job" - franklin p jones

A few hours later~

The woman smiled sadly at Rey as she scarfed a third hamburger and dropped the buns and lettuce on the ground for Dorian. He ate the way that Rey did, and they were both eating like they hadn't eaten in weeks. In reality, it had only been a day or so. The woman was a brunette, and her sun dyed golden brown hair curled around her face in a way that reminded Rey, oddly, of a spider plant. This woman, whoever she was, had found Rey staring in the window at the H & P Cafe, ogling at the food that the people inside were eating. It had all looked so... tempting. Now they were sitting at a table in the back of the cafe with a plate full of handmade sandwiches and hamburgers, most of which Rey was pushing off her plate for Dorian or slipping into the surprisingly deep purse she had taken while she was still in Washington. She had worried at first about bringing her large gray friend with her into the cafe, but the woman had said not to worry, she had brought her own dog into the cafe before. But there was no dog with the woman, and when she had mentioned her dog, her eyes glazed a bit, as if she was looking into her past. The air was still tinged with a sadness that made Rey's nostrils flare, but sadness wasn't enticing like fear was, so there was no problem in sitting in the woman's depressing company for a few more snacks.

"What did you say your name was?" The woman asked, she had a small voice, timid almost, and she kept looking at Dorian with those big blue eyes of hers, as if she was trying to imprint him into her memory. Rey licked her lips and frowned inwardly, thinking of a way to tell this woman she hadn't told her her name without being rude. Rey did enjoy these burgers, and she wasn't about to scare this woman away before she ate her fill. Dorian huffed a sigh as he put his nose closer to Rey's plate. She growled and he pulled back, but the noise had startled the woman.

Rey smiled a tight lipped smile, "Isabelle. My name is Isabelle." She hated lying, mostly. But this woman smelled of CPS and adoption. Too maternal for Rey to feel comfortable hearing her name being called in this woman's maternally gentle voice when it was time for her to leave again. She wasn't going to stay in this town for long, just enough for a meal and a new book, maybe. Please, for the love of god, don't ask me how old I am... Rey thought to herself, still smiling at the woman with the sad eyes and curly brown hair.

"Isabelle." The woman said with a kind smile, forgetting the dog's snarl that had rumbled out of Rey's chest only moments before, "That's a lovely name."

Rey kept her smile plastered to her face, "It was my grandmother's."

She shoved the rest of her burger into her mouth and reached for another before the woman could try to salvage the already dead conversation. As she dropped some food down onto the floor for Dorian, she slipped half a burger into her book bag, no one noticed, but that didn't surprise her. Not in the least. She had been trained to go unnoticed when she needed to. The woman cleared her throat as Rey picked up another sandwich, it was tuna, but it smelled like chicken and pickles. It didn't really matter though, food was food, and sometimes even something that wasn't supposed to be food was food. She bit into the sandwich and then started chewing before stopping, making an odd gagging noise, and then pushing the partially chewed food out of her mouth with her tongue, her teeth bared so her lips didn't touch the cheesy tuna. The woman looked startled, Rey thought it was her manors. She wiped her mouth and smiled a little sheepishly.

"I don't like melted cheese with tuna." She said apologetically.

The woman's face went white with amazing speed as Rey covered the chewed chunk of bread and tuna and cheese with her napkin, thinking maybe it was the sight of the half mashed sandwich that was making this woman's smell fluctuate the way it was. Her ears moved under her hat, down at the sides and her eyes seemed to get smaller, more distant, as she watched the woman's growing disgust and fear. Her nostril's flared again, and Dorian's head went up, his pupils dilating, just like Rey's were at the smells now filling the air around them.

"You're one of them..." The woman said in a disbelieving, shaky, whispery voice.
----

The woman's fear had been so intoxicating that Rey wasn't sure what happened from one moment to the next. And then she was sliding into a ditch, the dirt and roots scraping her back and her head hit a rock. Her eyes were burning for some reason, and when she and Dorian hit the bottom, he had somehow landed on top of her. His nails had given her new cuts on her stomach, and one of them was bleeding, staining her shirt. She was still catching her breath when Dorian whined at her. Rey looked at him, their eyes meeting for an instant before he dropped his eyes to watch a beetle crawl over his paw. Rey sighed and looked down at her pants, she was covered in dirt, it was caked onto her skin, her feet, she could feel some on her chin and the blood on her shirt was drying. She put her hand up on her forehead and leaned back into the dirt. She had lost her hat somewhere, and it felt weird to have her ears bare. She looked at Dorian again.

"What just happened?" She murmured, rubbing her hands together.

He looked at her and his ears went back as he whined again. He didn't really know, and then it was slowly coming back to her. Vague at first, but soon it was all clear. She hadn't known what the woman meant about "one of them" but as soon as the woman had said it, her fear was almost tangible in the air. She had pulled pepper spray out of her purse, the kind that people used on bears, and sprayed Rey right in the face. Rey remembered screaming at the pain, Dorian snarled almost silently and leaped at the woman, teeth bared, prepared to defend Rey. The woman had beat him in the face with her purse, and then she yelled out to the other people in the cafe. Whatever "one of them" was, the people of Echo, Oregon clearly didn't tolerate them.

And then it was a blur as Rey was chased from the cafe, knives and forks and plates and frying pans being thrown at her, giving her horrible flashbacks of her Uncle's training technique. She remembered tripping over Dorian and then she was running on her hands and feet like Dorian was. Thinking about it now, the clearer it got, it was a little like the book Frankenstein, when the villagers stormed up to the castle with pitchforks and torches. Except these people were throwing bricks and rocks, someone had even fired a gun at her. It had sounded like a shotgun, but the bullet had only scraped the top of her head, barely missing her ear and literally knocking her hat off. That might've been what caused her to trip over Dorian, but she wasn't entirely sure.

She looked at Dorian again and started to say something when she heard a soft chuckling coming from above them. "You should be more wary of small town people. They don't treat strays kindly."

Rey jumped to her feet, alarmed that something had snuck up on them, and Dorian scrambled to his feet, crouching down and preparing to jump at whoever had just spoken. But then a fluffy dog poked her head over the top of the ditch and watched them with odd eyes. The dog was black as night, and she looked as though she was part chow. She smiled down at them, her blackish blue tongue lolling out of her mouth.

----------------------------------

Aubrey Lynn Winwood had never considered herself a stray. Maybe once when she was on the run from her Uncle, but not since she had found Dorian and then her brother. A drifter, certainly, but never a stray. She had a home of sorts to return to with her brother and his family. She had Dorian as a constant, if not annoying, companion. But this strange feral dog, her name an odd series of barks and yips that translated something close to Clara, saw Rey and Dorian as strays from first look. She hadn’t bothered with the staring challenge that almost all dogs do to see who is more dominant, she had merely chuckled, a soft wispy sound, and told them to come with her.

After a moments hesitation, a quick glance at each other, Rey and Dorian had climbed out of the ditch, Dorian with some trouble due to his lack of thumbs, and they had trailed after Clara. She was as she had first appeared, a chow mix with a stocky build and pitch black fur but for a white splash on the back of her left hind paw. She was fluffy and shockingly well groomed for a feral dog. Clara led them a few miles from the small town to a small house that looked abandoned but for the smoke drifting from the chimney. The door was open and despite the fire, it was dark beyond the threshold. Not that it mattered, all three could see the weathered old woman sitting in a rocking chair. Her hair was dark silver, though her skin was so dark Rey was sure her hair had once been as black as Rey’s hair was.

Rey stopped in her tracks, taking in the rest of the place. The house was built almost purely of wood, and that wood was old and soft looking from however many years the house had been standing, certainly longer than Rey had been alive. The grass and plant-life surrounding the house was so overgrown that it seemed no one, human at least, had come to or from the place in years, perhaps even decades. There were deer paths, to be sure, most of them possibly made by Clara’s coming and going. But otherwise the house seemed untouched by any outside life. Rey looked back over her shoulder, the wind teased at her hair, tickled her ears and she was reminded of her missing hat. Her ears went back in annoyance, but her face remained a mask of boredom. The sun felt good on her head though, and it showed an almost reddish hue to her dark hair. She closed her eyes, and breathed in the unblemished smells of the area.

Dorian had followed Clara almost to the house before he realized Rey had stopped. He turned back and watched her with an almost sad look on his face. He didn’t like her looking so uncomfortable, and she was never comfortable with her natural ears shown to the world. His nose twitched when Clara glanced back at him with two dead rabbits hanging from her mouth. Neither he nor Rey had noticed when she had picked the things up, but from the looks of it she had been carrying it all the while. She put them down on her paws and looked at him closely, her odd colored eyes gleaming.

“Come along then, the both of you. She’s been alone too long” Clara picked the rabbits back up and went inside, her curling tail wagging as she whined at the old woman in the rocking chair.

--will be continued shortly--

Rey had forgotten about the incident with the pepper spray until she entered the small house. Her eyes stung anew in the smoky atmosphere and she was forced to squint for a time. She had the slightest feeling that she was being watched, but the old woman hadn’t moved. Carla was still watching the old woman, the rabbits hanging from her mouth, as she waited for a response. Rey rubbed at her eyes, her ears held back in annoyance, she wasn’t sure if it was because of her lost hat or merely because of the pain in her eyes.

The cabin, for that was what it seemed to be, smelled of death and decay, and it wasn’t because of the rabbits. The smell was old and embedded into the fabrics and walls, and yet it didn't seem to bother Clara. She wondered if maybe the old woman was dead, but no, she could hear her breathing. She looked as though she had horrible arthritis in her joints, as if it would hurt merely to move from the chair. She looked dead, and her eyes were staring into the space Rey was now occupying. At first Rey thought that the old woman was looking at her, but clearly she was blind.

Rey felt her sensitive nose tickle, then she gasped, lifted the front of her shirt and sneezed into it. Her eyes watered, and then she froze when she realized the old woman was in fact looking at her.

The old woman’s eyes were as colorless as her hair, the cataracts so progressed that they bleached out all other color. It was unsettling, to say the least, and yet the old woman was staring right at Rey, a smile slowly deepening the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. Her skin looked like leather, and despite her advanced age, she still had almost all of her teeth.

“You are the first living person I have seen in this house in a long time, Girl.” The woman said clearly, setting Rey’s nerves tingling. She expected halted talking, or the slow babble of an old person, not this. And to make matters worse, the old woman, who looked as frail as a dry leaf, got to her feet as easily as Rey could climb the side of a building. Confusion settled over both Rey and Dorian as the old woman took the rabbits from Clara, patted the dog’s head, and then dropped the rabbits onto a small table near the only window in the place. She then went on to stretch her weak looking arm out to take a skinning knife off the wall, and began skinning the dead rabbits.

Dorian looked at Rey from the corner of his eyes, baffled beyond belief and hoping maybe Rey understood what was going on. When dogs got old, they couldn’t move like that. But from the astounded look in Rey’s eyes as she watched the old woman skin the rabbits so deftly, he was right to be so thrown. Clara chuckled from where she sat near the rocking chair and both Rey and Dorian looked at her.

“She’s almost as old as the trees behind this place. But though age wrinkles her flesh and drains her color, it hasn’t affected her mind.”

Dorian tilted his head and Rey frowned, “How is that possible?”

The old woman turned from her work and looked at Rey, “How is what possible, Girl? Speak up, now. I won’t share our dinner with you if you don’t indulge an old woman.”

Rey let her frown fade as she looked to the old woman, wondering if she should just come out with the fact that she was just talking to this not-so-feral dog, or lie. Clara watched her, amused. Rey set her jaw, annoyed, and decided to tell the truth. She’d been chased out of a whole town today, what’s the harm in adding a small house to the list. “Your dog. She says your outside ages, while your inside remains young. But how is that possible?”

The old woman stared at her for a moment, seeming to think for a bit. Rey had the strangest impression that the old woman was thinking similarly to how she had been thinking moments before. “I’ve watched that small town of bigots grow from a settlement to what it is now, which isn’t saying much. And I’ve watched my family die out and get forced from their land. I am older than this country, Girl, and I haven’t the slightest inkling as to how it’s possible. Just the same as you don’t know how you can understand my dog. And don’t play like you do know, I’m old, but I’ve not lost my wits.”

Rey’s ears pricked in amazement as she gaped at the old woman. It would appear true though, she hadn’t lost her wits, not a one. And from the eerily serious look in her white eyes, Rey knew that no one would dare think otherwise. But she had also confused Rey, and Rey wasn’t even sure how. With a twitch of an eye brow, Rey shifted her footing and tried to think of what to say.

“Oh stop your fidgeting, Child. I didn’t mean any harm in what I said.” The old woman said as she stabbed the skinning knife into the wood of the table.

Rey eyed the knife warily, suddenly wishing she hadn’t followed Clara to the cabin. Dorian didn’t seem bothered though, at least not by the danger the old woman seemed capable of. He was sitting near where Rey stood, watching the old woman with interest.

Somewhere on the other side of the world, Rey was sure there was another girl, similar to her, in the same situation. Or at least that’s what she told herself as she searched for a place to sit. She put her finger to her scar unconsciously and rubbed it. There were a few places to sit, other than the rocking chair, but most were over near the old woman and her frighteningly skilled hands. After a few minutes of silent debate, Rey made her way over to a chair at the table, which had given the old woman time to drop the rabbits into a pot of boiling water that was hanging over the fire.

Rey frowned, she couldn’t smell anything over decay in the air. For the first time, as she watched the old woman chop up some sort of plant life to drop into the soup, she found she wasn’t hungry. The scent in the air was making her feel sick, actually.

The old woman finished with the herbs and then went to sit back in her rocking chair. It creaked gently as she toed the ground, rocking ever so slightly. She looked at Rey for a moment, silently watching Rey try to keep her stomach from rebelling. Then she spoke, “You have the ears of a coyote, and no doubt the tail too. Your eyes are similar to one as well, and though you hide it well, you’ve the teeth as well. It’s no wonder you can understand dogs.”

Rey pressed her lips together, put her ears back, and stared hard at the old woman.

“She is not ‘my dog’, she is my friend. Humans cannot own anything wild, and no matter how they try, animals are never truly tame. Obedient and loyal, they still trust their base instincts. Humans are the only creatures on this planet who are tame. That is what I was taught when I was a girl, and it is something that my people have forgotten.” She sighed and looked out the door, “I’m going to make a guess and say that where ever you go, trouble follows. Else wise, Dog wouldn’t have brought you here.”

Ok. That brought whole new meaning to the word confused. Rey felt her head tilt, one ear dropping half an inch and the other pointing directly at the low ceiling. She blinked slowly at the old woman, wondering, not for the first time, if she was ’off her rocker’. The things she was saying were making Rey’s head spin. She was talking in circles, confusing circles, and Rey couldn’t take much more.

Slamming her hands loudly on the arms of the chair she sat in, a successful attempt to get every living thing’s attention on her, Rey got to her feet and faced the old woman. “Look, Lady. As much as I appreciate the promise of a shared dinner, the company of a strange dog and an even stranger woman, and your assumed hospitality, I don’t think I can take any more of this nonsense. So I think I’ll be leaving.”

She made for the door, but the sound of the old woman’s cackling made her stop. It was like a witch’s scream, crazy and hair raising. Rey turned slowly, her ears flat against her scalp and every hair on her body standing up. The laugh was so eerie, so just… wrong sounding.

“You are a little wild thing, with no where to belong and no one to belong with. You thrive with the dogs that speak to you, and you like that you don’t fit in with humans. But maybe you wish you did. So before you go, I’d like to tell you something that might help. I’ve heard whispers on the wind that there are others like us, because yes, we are of the same make. Go east, little coyote, as far east as the land will allow you to go, and you will find answers.”

Before the woman had finished her speech, a low growling sound had started from the depths of Rey’s belly. She hated when strangers tried to understand her, more so when they were almost on point. Dorian, whose feelings were in tune with his friend’s, had scrambled awkwardly into a standing position, his tail held stiffly straight in the air, his ears pricked, and his head lowered, ready to fight or flee, whichever Rey chose.

“You crazy old bat,” Rey said in strangely calm tones. And, trying desperately not to run, walked out of the small cabin and out into fresh air, her innards clenched in an odd fear.

Dorian trotted quickly after her, his hackles raised and his senses alert. Rey could feel his discomfort as acutely as she could feel her own. Her back was stiff, and she felt the old woman’s colorless eyes boring into her.

---------

Clara had watched with increasing interest at the exchange between the old woman, whose name had never been clear, and the coyote-girl. And when the coyote-girl and her mute friend had left, Clara was struck with the urge to go with them. With the old woman standing in the doorway, that crazy smile of hers still stuck stupidly on her wrinkled face, Clara was forced to decide between staying with the old woman, or following the coyote-girl. If she stayed, she would grow old and lonely, just like the old woman. If she went, she faced never seeing the old woman again, but also there was the promise of happiness once the coyote-girl let her into the pack.

The old woman turned her colorless eyes down on the fluffy black dog, her smile turning from crazy to sad in a matter of seconds. She stepped to the side of the small doorframe and looked pointedly at Clara, “You’ll miss your chance if you don’t hurry.”

Clara’s tail wagged furiously, her ears back and a slow whine escaped her as she leapt to her feet and licked at the old woman’s gnarled hands. The old woman laughed, “Stop it now, and get, it’s the first time in years I don’t have to share my dinner, and I don’t plan on you ruining it. Shoo!”

Clara whined once more and then shot out of the cabin like a bullet.

“I’ll miss you, Dog.” The old woman said in a low voice as she watched the black blur disappear over the darkening field.