73

"Come up to the fire," a bearded man says softly, his voice drifting through the raised hood of a ragged parka that might have been blue when it was first purchased. His nose and chin are illuminated by the flickering fire, highlighting weeks of unshaved brown whiskers peppered with grey. He's roasting something over the flame. "Can't keep this going for too long," he says, gesturing at the fire. "Someone probably already called the bylaw folks. Enjoy it while you can. It has to go out before they get here or they'll evict us."

"Us?" you ask, eyes scanning the brush for others. You don't plan on getting closer to the fire. You can already feel the Beast inside you scrambling away.

"Yeah," the man says as he turns his stick over, roasting the other side of…whatever it is that he's cooking. "Me and Dani. This is our spot." He waves with his stick a bit further to the south. "Few more of us down there. Dani's out finding more food. She's got twice the energy of any of us." He offers his hand and you take it. You watch as he unsuccessfully tries to repress a shudder. Even well-hidden in your warm winter parka and scarf, your disfigurements and aura can shake mortals to their core. But this man knows an outsider when he sees one, and he's determined to be hospitable.

"I'm Sam," he says. "Don't think I've seen you around. Think I'd remember, no offense."

Sam shifts slightly away from you, even though that makes his job with the fire slightly more difficult. "Yeah, but there's others just down there. Why don't you sit? You're wearing me out just lookin' at you. If you're new, I can show you around to the kitchens when it's light out. Hot food's good when you can get your hands on it." He's gotten a better look at you now, but if your twisted fingers put him off, he doesn't show it. Many of Ottawa's homeless community have seen worse, you imagine. Or maybe not. Maybe he's just being polite.