He is a werewolf!

I think I may have mentioned that I'm a dog person. Even if it's a breed with a bad reputation, like pit bulls, a dog that has been raised right will be a sweet, loving creature that will happily tear the face off of anyone who tries to attack you while it's around. I like dogs.

But a wolf is not a dog.

Yes, the first time I'd ever seen wolves I'd thought they were adorable. I'd also been at a zoo, safely on the other side of a fenced-off and recessed enclosure. When there is a wolf in your living room, however, all of the primal beauty inherent in a wild and untamed predator is eclipsed by the fact that it is a wolf and it is in your living room.

Hans-the-wolf tilted his head and looked at me. I think he was trying to judge my reaction. "Terror" just about summed it up... but I've always been good at concealing that. It's second nature to me, now. I did my best to keep calm.

Hans made a low whine and stretched his head toward me. He sniffed the air twice and then stood. He padded closer.

There was a wolf. In my living room. Coming toward me. I figured he could probably kill me with one bite and consume the evidence in two more. Terror won.

I was backed up against a locked door. I'd already realized I couldn't run away when Hans had still been a man. Now all of that adrenaline funneled from 'flight' to 'fight.' It might not have been the smartest response, but I grabbed the nearest thing I could and swung it hard.

Unfortunately I was backed up against my front door and the nearest thing to hand was the mail I'd dropped off earlier. Specifically: the complimentary local newspaper. It was still rolled up from when it had been stuffed in my mailbox.

I'm pretty small, and the newspaper didn't really improve my reach, but I did clip Hans-the-wolf across the nose. He yelped in surprise and jerked his head back.

"That's right, stay back!" I yelled. Possibly hysterically. I hoped not, though. I'm pretty sure showing fear in front of animals is a good way to get mauled. When Hans didn't move fast enough I raised the newspaper and stepped forward menacingly. He scrabbled back to the foot of my bed.

For a minute I stared at him. He looked back at me reproachfully.

"This cannot be for real," I told him.

Hans snorted, an oddly high-pitched snuffle. He started to move, and my panic spiked again.

"No, stay," I snapped. Hans froze. "Uh... sit?" To my surprise, Hans settled back on his haunches. "This is so unreal," I whispered incredulously.

Hans tilted his head inquisitively as I crept forward a step.

"Can you... understand me?" I asked.

Hans nodded.

"Can you talk?"

Hans made a low growl that ended in something like a bark. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end.

I swallowed. "Not in English, huh?" I took another step forward. I was still holding the newspaper defensively in front of me. "I'm, um... I'm going to try to touch you, okay?" The prospect was terrifying, but I had to know if this was real and I was already way past the point of not believing my eyes.

Hans nodded again and I hesitated.

"You're not going to bite me or anything, are you?"

Hans shook his head.

"Okay," I said. I lifted the newspaper threateningly. "But if you're lying, so help me God, I will smack you hard," I warned him. "So, uh, keep those paws and teeth where I can see them, mister."

Hans grinned wolfishly, and no one can do a wolfish grin like an actual wolf. There were teeth everywhere. But it was almost worse when he stretched out his front legs, showing off massive paws that included proportionately enormous claws.

"Uh... on second thought, maybe you should put all those away," I said weakly.

If anything, Hans grinned bigger. But then he laid down, crossing his paws and settling his head over them. He closed his mouth and his teeth were blessedly taken out of view.

"Thanks," I said. Then I crouched down and stretched out to tentatively poke him in the forehead with one finger.

I snatched my hand back as soon as I ascertained that he was, in fact, solid. I laughed nervously. "Holy crap," I said. Then I reached out again. This time I wasn't tentative. I scrubbed my hand over Hans' head, ruffling his fur. It was really soft.

"Hans!" I practically shouted. "You're a werewolf!"

He sat up and barked in agreement, and grinned a big, doggie grin. It wasn't scary at all, in fact, now that the shock was wearing off, I think I was more comfortable with the presence of Hans as a large canine than I'd been in the presence of Hans as a large man. How big a freak am I?

I ran my hand through his fur again. It really was very soft, and just... wow. Wow! Hans was a werewolf. He started wagging his tail again, and I realized I was scratching behind his ears. I stopped. Five minutes ago he had been a very attractive man I had wanted to do very bad things with. And that made petting him now really weird... as though the whole 'werewolf' thing wasn't surreal enough.

I pulled my hand away hastily. "You aren't getting off on that, are you?" I asked. Or maybe accused. I'll admit I was a little out of sorts, and there was probably some overlap.

Hans pulled his head back and gave me a confused 'what the... no' look. He wuffled and shook his head.

I nodded slowly and stood up. "Okay," I said, "Can you, um, turn back into a man or something? Because I have a lot of questions."

Hans nodded. Then he stood up, stretched, and shook himself out. I hastily turned around. Watching a man turn into a wolf had been freakish enough, I didn't think I'd be able to watch the process reverse itself and still eat tomorrow. Listening was bad enough.

Hans didn't scream or howl or anything like they do in the movies, but that meant I could hear bones cracking and flesh stretching and his labored breathing... and all the quiet, painful noises were far worse than any overdone cinematic depiction.

Finally, I heard a grunt, a purely human grunt, and I risked a glance over my shoulder. Hans was a man again. He picked himself up off the floor, using the edge of my bed as a prop.

He was still naked, too.

A naked man. In my apartment. Practically in my bed. How the hell was that better than the wolf?