Days passed as work continued on “the old Crenshaw place,” which the wolf hoped would eventually be known as “Advrik’s Domain” in the future. Okay, realistically, he’d just like to wipe away the name of whoever this Crenshaw person was and give the property a fresh new start on life, just like the one he was getting here in Brickhedge!
Spring had ebbed on as the town began to blossom, much like the wildflowers on the sides of the road or the dormant bulbs that the local florist across the street had placed on the table in front of her shop.
Advrik couldn’t help but be amazed by how beautifully rustic the town looked, even as the veils of winter still hung overhead while the vibrancy of spring mustered its strength to punch through with all its flamboyancy.
The wolf felt he needed to get out a bit more, however, to meet more of the locals. Knowing full well his being locked up in the cleaning sessions of his new home was giving the locals the impression that he was a hermit or, at the very least, insanely anti-social.
Which in the latter case wouldn’t be too far disconnected from the truth, but still.
He’d focused heavily on getting the “second floor” cleaned this morning, putting final touches on areas that still showed leftover residue or any shred of its former owner’s… “decor choices.” Gone was every last fibre of the bright yellow carpet in the small bedroom. The floor had been steam cleaned twice over, all the molding pulled up and replaced with something astronomically cheaper but clean. With his bed back in place and TV mounted to the wall, his bedroom was finally HIS bedroom. He just needed some furnishings now.
The base floor of the small house had finally been rid of the last of all the trash. It took two entire fifty-count boxes of 42-gallon contractor-grade trash bags to clean the house, including the living space, the kitchen floor, and all the contents of the cabinets, bathroom, and closet.
It still needed a lot of work, but one could at least walk from the end of the house now to the other without fear of stepping in some ancient mound of writhing bacteria.
Advrik wore his usual gettup consisting of a dark grey tee-shirt under a black sleeveless zipper hoodie and black cargo pants. An outfit that only changed slightly in the summer with a pair of black shorts or a yellow plaid jacket in the autumn and winter. He was a simple beast that didn’t like to stand out if it could be avoided.
Unfortunately for him, his small stature made that difficult sometimes.
Wolves, on average, stood over six feet tall. Advrik came in at just five-foot-ten. He lacked their broad shoulders and toned musculature, sporting a bit of a belly and the semblance of a double chin if he sat a certain way. It wasn’t incredibly rare for a wolf to not fit the bill, but those that did still stood out somehow, especially in the presence of other wolves.
A pair of female wolves walked on the opposite side of the street, their bodies fluffy with winter fur under their lighter spring clothing. Tall torsos suspended on two powerful, long, muscular legs. One red in hue, the other blue. They walked arm and arm, talking amongst each other.
Advrik tried to pay them no mind, but he could sense their eyes on him, not particularly judging him persay. He’d not felt any sort of judgment yet from any of the beasts he’d met in town, which was very nice compared to his quote-on-quote hometown or the orphanage within.
Now there was a memory not worth dredging up right now!
The couple walked by without so much as a wave, which was okay with him. His destination lies just a few yards away: Ebeneezer’s Thrift. A locally-owned, two-storied thrift store that saw its inventory supplied almost entirely by locals, with the occasional goods being shipped in from other thrift shops in the local network.
The main entrance led one into a large, open space that smelled of one’s old closet. It had a lived-in feel that was unique to old buildings, especially those that sold the unwanted clothes and furniture of others.
Floorboards creaked as the wolf stepped inside; the beasts at the desk smiled and greeted him. He returned the greetings in same as he stepped past the dozens of clothing racks, headed for the flight of stairs that dove into the building’s furniture and home goods area.
Noontime on a weekday meant there’d be fewer shoppers, which Advirk hoped meant he’d actually find something to his liking that hadn’t already been claimed. A few older beasts meandered about; glassware clinked and clacked as they picked up goods to inspect them. A cough here, a sniffle there. It was quiet beyond that, and he didn’t have to shoulder his way through to look at things.
He’d left the establishment having spent close to two hundred dollars, claiming a big, hardwood antique dresser, an upright closet, and a few chairs for the kitchen table, which had remarkably been the only piece of salvageable furniture in the house. He worked out a delivery window, paid a little extra to show his gratitude for the service, and was on his way.
It was after lunch, so his stomach was rumbling, having gotten right to work first thing this morning with hardly a hard-boiled egg and a cup of coffee on his stomach.
This would be the first time actually eating out in town, and his first thought was to ask a random passer-by where a good diner might be. He knew of the bakery near his house, but they were exclusively baked-to-order desserts and freshly made bread, unlike the bakery from his old home that served pizza, sandwiches, and other goods.
He was in luck as a spritely-looking old grey mouse was crossing the street, head wrapped in a babushka, back hunched over. Her tiny, wrinkled hand gripped what looked to be a hand-carved walking cane. She appeared squinting, the slits of her eyes magnified by the thick spectacles that perched atop her wrinkly snout.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I was hoping you might—“
“Fuck off, predator.” She squeaked with a wave of her cane as she went in the opposite direction.
Dumbfounded, the wolf stood motionless, watching the old mouse creep her way toward who knows where.
A chunky brown mouse burst from the apartment building on the opposite side of the road. He wore a Megadeth shirt that barely fit over his bulging belly and tattered shorts that seemed one size too small.
The fat mouse, much younger than the hateful creature that had just brushed him off, dashed across the street, frantically waving his claw in the air.
Advrik offered an awkward wave in return, mustering a smile that didn’t quite feel right.
“I’m so, so sorry if my grandmother said anything off-color to you.” He paused. “She’s a product of her time.” A simple, polite way of saying she still believed in the social stature once dictated by predatory beasts.
“It’s really quite all right; I just wasn’t expecting it. Everybeast in town has been really nice up to this point, so I—“
“I know, I know. Most in Brickhedge are. Oh, which reminds me: My name is Tyler. Tyler Oniker and that hateful old thing is my grandmother, Miribel.” He extended a claw, which the wolf took in kind.
“I’m Advrik Drahcir, I just—“
“Moved into the old Crenshaw place. You’ve been the talk of the town ever since. We were waiting for that place to get demolished, to tell you the truth. Surprised anyone was loony enough to take it on.” His huge round ears wavered, and he licked his large incisors. “I didn’t mean that you were loony. Man, I’m sorry.” But Advrik just laughed.
“No, you’re right. Anyone that knew what they were getting into with that place would have absolutely been considered loony, only…”
The mouse caught on quickly. “You bought it sight unseen. Happens to the best of us. Listen, it was really great getting to meet you, Mr. Advrik. And I do apologize once again on behalf of my hateful grandmother, but I gotta catch up to her—“
“Hey Tyler, could I ask you something real quick?”
The mouse’s expression said that he was all ears.
“I’m getting kinda hungry and was hoping you might be able to point me toward somewhere good to eat?”
Tyler rubbed his rotund tummy and smiled, “Well, hell’s bells, man, you just asked the right mouse! You definitely want to hit up Brock’s Bistro down by Town Hall, right across from the doctor’s office—Oh hey, that’s actually the direction we’re headed in now. Why don’t you tag along, eh?”
Meanwhile, off in the distance, a tropical moisture system loomed on the horizon, bringing with it the promise of rain. Lots and lots of rain.
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