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There was a wolf in Beef’s farm.
A big, stark white wolf.
It appeared roughly every month, and every single time Beef had to keep watch, trying to keep the wolf out. But no matter what he did to improve his farm’s defenses, the wolf would always find a way in, never deterred by any of his methods.
It was the same spiel tonight, when Beef looked out his window and spotted the white creature lurking in the dark, off in the distance.
Beef had determined that the wolf mustn't have had a pack, because it always came alone. Nor did it only go after the weaker animals, which was highly unusual, to say the least. And when Beef realized that the creature showed up on a very specific night each month, he was sure that he was starting to lose it.
It always came on a full moon.
A full moon! Beef wasn’t about to make a fool of himself by spouting warnings about a werewolf in the village, was he?
No, it had to be a coincidence. Beef knew that with his farm being on the edge of a large forest, at the edge of town, meant that his farm was more likely to be targeted by predators. He knew that when he inherited the place, and still he tried his best to keep it afloat.
But five killed chickens one month, a perfectly healthy milk cow the other, and two goats just last month is starting to affect his income.
Not to mention that Beef has been spending more time reinforcing the farm than actually working on it, which is less than desirable, to say the least.
And now it’s back. Beef just reinforced the fences, and still the wolf made its way in. He wasn’t about to go out and chase it away himself, he wasn’t an idiot. He could only hope that the wolf didn’t find a way into the stalls again, and that his animals would make it through the night unharmed.
Beef was telling Etho about it the following night when they met in the pub like always. And Etho, like always, simply laughed and rolled his eyes at him.
“I’m serious!” Beef said. “It’s there every full moon, and I know that you’re going to call me crazy for coming to a conclusion like this, but...”
“So you’re saying it’s a werewolf?” Etho quirked an eyebrow at him.
“I mean... what else could it be? It killed three sheep, dude. I’m going to be in serious trouble.”
“And I feel bad for you, man. I really do. Didn’t know you believed in werewolves, though,” Etho said. “Do you think vampires and witches are out there as well?”
“Hey!” Beef punched Etho in the shoulder, and Etho chuckled and punched him back before he took another sip of his drink.
“I’m telling you, it-”
“Wolves are sneaky, you know?” Etho put his glass back down. “Even more so than foxes, I’d say. You probably just got unlucky with this wolf. It sees your farm as its own territory.”
“Then why won’t it show up any other night of the month?” Beef asked.
“I dunno,” Etho shrugged. “I’m not exactly an expert on wolf behavior.”
“Know anyone who is, by chance?” Beef sighs.
Etho shrugged again. “Do I look like someone who might know someone who would know about keeping predators out of yards?”
“You never know with you, Etho,” Beef said.
“Fair enough, yeah.”
“You have to stay at my place sometime, see it for yourself.”
“I can’t, you know how my job is.”
Beef nodded. “And I know how it ‘has you awake at the strangest of hours’ constantly. What do you even do that has you that busy?”
“Fishing, mostly,” Etho said. “You have to wake up real early if you want the best catch. Though to be fair, I shifted my schedule around a bit since I started. I actually woke up only a couple hours ago,” Etho laughed.
Beef wrinkled his nose. “You do smell fishy,” he joked. “So you’re going to...”
“Work after this, yeah,” Etho nodded.
Beef hummed. “Well... there’s a pond in the forest, you can stay with me, see the wolf, and then head out to fish there?” Beef offered.
“And risk getting caught by your rabid dog? No thank you,” Etho said, and looked outside. “Either way, I should get going. See you next time?”
“Yeah, stay safe,” Beef said.
Etho got up from his chair, paid for his drinks, and left the pub. Beef watched as he walked out with confident strides, out into the night.
Beef left the pub not long after that, suddenly not too keen on walking back to his farmhouse alone in the dark. It felt like he could feel eyes burning into his back, but every time he turned around to see there was nothing there. Every corner he took he started walking a little bit faster, picking up the pace until he finally made his way back home. Beef locked the door and went straight to bed, he’d have to get up early tomorrow anyway.
The following morning, after his early morning routine of taking care of the animals (the ones that were still left, anyway. If the wolf got his only other milk cow then he’d be out of a good income for good), Beef went into town again. If he couldn’t keep the wolf out, there had to at least be a way he could potentially trap it. He really didn’t want to, but his own livelihood was on the line, so action had to be taken, one way or another.
The store owner, a stern-looking old man with a grey beard, seemed to perk up when Beef asked him for equipment he could use to trap a large creature with.
“What kind of creature?” The man asked.
“Um, well...”
“Large wolf? White fur? Show up every full moon?”
“Yeah! How did you-?” Beef asked bewildered.
The store owner laughed heartily, shaking his head. “I’m just messing with ya, I overheard you talking to your friend the other night in the pub,” he said.
“Oh, oh, that’s good. I think. Yeah,” Beef laughed awkwardly.
“I might have something to help you with your wolf problem, though, if you’d follow me into the back,” The store owner said, arms crossed.
Beef honestly wasn’t sure if he should.
“Come on, kid, don’t you want your farm to be safe from that beast?”
Beef nodded.
“Hey-! Kid? I- Oh, fine,” Beef sighed, and followed the old man.
He led him through a creaky wooden door that Beef might have missed if he didn’t know it was there. He was led through hallway after hallway, until they ended up at what looked like a storage room of sorts.
There were all kinds of... strange items in here, though. Beef caught a glimpse of a small, silver pocket watch on a shelf before the large suit of armor caught his eye. The armor stand held what looked like a spear, but... no, yeah, that was definitely a trident, not a spear.
The store owner opened a tall cabinet on the other side of the room, and Beef let himself peek at the copper goggles that dangled from a hook, right next to a delicate-looking mask, detailed with blue, mounted on the wall.
Beef was pulled from his thoughts by the store owner pushing an actual spear into his hands.
He looked at the weapon. Oh god, he was holding an actual weapon.
“W...what is this?” He asked.
“Pure silver. The solution to your werewolf problem,” The old man said.
Beef looked up at the man, who merely nodded at him, and then looked down at the spear, not really sure how he was supposed to hold it. It was remarkably light, but then again, Beef had nothing to compare it to. Maybe a pitchfork, at most.
“Y-you want me to kill the wolf?” Beef asked.
The man shook his head, taking the weapon back from Beef’s hands, a steady grip on it as he held it upright.
“You can’t kill it with this,” he said. “You won’t have to, if all goes right.”
Beef nodded, dumbfounded, hoping that the store owner would explain further.
“ It is said that you can’t kill werewolves under a full moon,” the man thankfully continued. “And I’m inclined to believe it; I’ve never managed to do it myself.”
The man ran a finger up to the point of the weapon. “But you can mark it,” he said, a single drop of blood running down the spear.
“The unlucky fellow, or lass, will have the same scars when in human form. If you have a good aim you’ll cut their hand or foot right off, and you’ll be able to tell who the culprit is simply by seeing who is now using a crutch.”
Beef wasn’t sure what to say. He... he simply was looking for a way to trap the wolf and possibly set it out in a different forest. How did he get himself caught in this- this ‘supernatural’ mess? Did the store owner actually believe him, or was he just messing with him? There was no way that Beef was going to hurt that wolf, was there?
“...And what if it isn’t actually a werewolf?” Beef asked, suddenly being hit with doubt.
“I doubt that that’s not the case,” the old man said. “But if it isn’t, you’ll likely have discouraged the wolf from coming back anyway.”
Beef nodded, still unsure of himself. Could he really hurt a wolf, just like that?
“See for yourself. The werewolf won’t have come from far if it keeps attacking your livestock every single moon.”
He pushed the spear back into Beef’s hands, patted him on his back, and started to usher him out of the storage room. Just before they got back to the main room Beef scrambled to stop.
“Wait, you said this thing was made of silver? How much is that going to cost me?”
“It’s on the house,” the man insisted. “One less werewolf is one less problem for our village.” And with that, Beef was pushed out onto the street, silver spear in his hands.
The next full moon came in no time at all, and Beef eyed the spear next to the back door as the sun started to sink below the horizon. He still didn’t feel confident in his plan at all. Did he even have a plan? Was he really supposed to just... go out there, wait for the wolf to show up, and stab it with the spear?
That seemed like a bad idea, and yet... that was all Beef could think of. He tried to find a way to set a trap that incorporated the weapon, somehow, but something about that felt off. What if a different animal got caught in his trap? With how much care Beef has put into raising his own animals, that just felt wrong.
So Beef waited, inside, staring out the window overlooking his fields. Normally the wolf would have been here by now, it’s dark already.
Maybe it knew what Beef was planning. Maybe it knew and it’d stay away this time, or it’d come back another night when Beef wasn’t prepared. Not to say that he felt prepared in the slightest, but still.
But when Beef was starting to suspect that the wolf wasn’t going to show up, it did.
Out of the corner of his eyes he could see it: just as white as he remembered it. He shivered, watching it pad up to the barn, not a care in the world. That creature had lived in luxury for long enough now. Killing his animals like it was an open buffet. Beef threw on his coat, grabbed the spear, and opened the back door as quietly as he could, shivering at the cold night air.
The wolf heard him. Of course it did. Its ears were perked up and its eyes reflected the light from inside the house. It was staring right at him.
Beef clutched the spear in his hands, slowly taking a step closer. The wolf stood still, observing him as he approached. Beef wondered if the person inside recognized him, if that explained the wolf’s curious behavior.
If there even was a person inside it, anyway. For all he knew it really was but a regular wolf. A wild animal, feral, afraid of humans, even.
Beef really lost it, hadn’t he? Standing eye to eye with a feral creature for no good reason at all.
He wasn’t sure what in the world he was doing. Why was he confronting a wolf like this? Why was he raising his weapon at it? Why wasn’t it running away?
When Beef slashed at the wolf, however, the creature dodged his attack and bared its teeth, growling.
Oh god, what had he done?
There was no backing out now, however. Beef slashed again, using the length of the spear to his advantage, but he hit fur instead of flesh.
This angered the creature even more, and it growled louder at him. From this close Beef could see just how big the wolf was, reaching up to about his midriff, its sharp teeth on display.
Beef lashed out again, hopelessly, but the wolf dodged his sloppy excuse for an attack. Why wasn’t it running away? Any normal wolf would, wouldn’t it?
Beef didn’t get time to think about it as the wolf snapped at his legs. Beef barely dodged its jaws, stepping back just in time to hear its teeth clashing against each other. A shiver ran down his spine. If this wolf managed to bite him, it wouldn’t let go.
Beef waved the spear at the wolf and the action prevented it from going after his ankles again immediately. It kept close, way too close for comfort. But just out of reach of the spear.
Beef briefly considered throwing the weapon at it, but if he missed, what then?
He’d be defenseless.
He’d be mauled by the creature that had been taunting him all this time.
No, that wouldn’t do.
The wolf lunged at him, and Beef barely managed to block its jaws with the spear. The sudden action and the sheer weight of the creature caused him to stumble backward. The wolf backed up and jumped at him again, toppling Beef over onto the ground.
Beef tried to get up, but the wolf was on top of him within the blink of an eye, claws threatening to dig right through his skin. The white wolf growled and huffed, sniffing at Beef’s clothes before snapping at his throat.
Beef barely managed to block its attack, the spear stuck between the wolf’s teeth again. He could hear, feel the wooden handle giving in under the pressure the wolf’s jaws put on it. And with a sudden snap the spear broke in two.
Splinters dug into his hands as he held onto the two pieces. Maybe he can still-
Beef didn’t get any time to think, as the wolf snapped at his throat again. With no weapon to rely on he blocked himself with his own arm, howling out in pain as the wolf bit into his wrist.
Fueled by nothing but adrenaline Beef pushed his arm back, the wolf keeping its jaw locked. With his right hand he raised the half of the spear that still had the sharp end attached, and he slashed at the creature latched onto him.
The wolf let go of him immediately, howling and whimpering. Beef caught a glimpse of red on the left side of its face before it ran off, back into the forest.
Beef breathed out heavily, letting the half-spear drop from his grip, clutching his wounded arm.
He briefly debated on whether he could get away with simply passing out right then and there, in the grass outside, but decided against it. He pulled himself up to his feet and stumbled back into his house, tossing the two pieces of the spear next to the back door.
Beef ran his hand under cold tap water, wrapped his arm up hastily, and dropped into bed after making sure that he wasn’t going to bleed all over the place.
If this is what it took for his animals to be safe from now on out, then so be it.
Beef went to the pub the following night, needing a good drink (or a few) to drown out everything that happened the previous night. He could still feel the excitement pumping through his veins, the adrenaline rushing through his system. Beef would have thought he’d made it all up, if it weren’t for the scar- the bite mark the wolf left in his arm. He was lucky that it didn’t sever any tendons or crush his bone, in hindsight.
Even thinking about it had Beef on edge again, but it ebbed away slightly when he entered the local pub, a feeling of familiarity washing over him.
Etho wasn’t there, however. He usually was, but not tonight, apparently. Maybe he was out fishing already, Beef did come in quite late, taking more time than usual to do his daily work at the farm with his wounded and bandaged arm.
He looked around the pub twice, but no sight of the white-haired man. Beef did spot the old store owner from a few weeks ago at the bar, a pint of his own in front of him. He’d return the spear soon, Beef thought. After he repaired it. Right now he needed to relax and forget what happened.
And forget he did, eventually, getting back into the rhythm of working at the farm. Thankfully, by his confronting the wolf right as it showed up, it prevented the creature from actually doing any damage. All the animals that Beef still had were still alive and kicking, promising and delivering him another fruitful month of labor.
Beef felt weird, facing his animals after that. Perhaps it was because he’d never hurt an animal on purpose like that before, even if it was one that was causing him such misfortune. Whenever he tried to pick the spear up to fix it he was hit with unpleasant, vivid memories, and he’d hiss and drop the broken weapon back to the ground.
All in all, Beef was starting to forget about the whole ‘werewolf’ thing. He convinced himself that what the store owner did for him must have been part of some elaborate joke. Something Etho set him up for, somehow. It seemed like something Etho would do, anyway. They use spears for fishing sometimes, right? That’s probably how Etho got a hold of one in the first place.
He hadn’t seen Etho since the last full moon, funny enough. A thought crossed Beef’s mind but he shook it away before it could dig its claws into him. The scar on his left arm itched under his bandages. He’d have to swap them for fresh ones soon.
He wouldn’t know until the next full moon, anyway. And even then, it could still be an ordinary wolf.
Nothing left but to wait, Beef sighed, and got back to work.
He went back to the pub about a week later, and he had to do a double-take when he saw the white-haired man in his usual seat at a table off to the side.
Beef quickly sat across from him, ready to greet Etho and tell him all about what happened with the strange store owner and the spear and the wolf when the sight of Etho caused his mouth to drop open before he could even utter a single sentence.
Etho’s eye was scarred.
His left eye now had an obvious, vertical slash right through the middle. The scar caused his normal, deep brown eye color to have turned into a more muted, almost grey color.
Etho looked up at him, and Beef sat down quietly.
“Hey Beefers,” Etho smiled. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Beef nodded. The events of what happened under the full moon came back to him in full force. It had felt so blurry, so surreal, but... He didn’t imagine attacking the wolf, did he? Beef actually slashed the creature’s face, he saw its blood, tasted it as it splattered all over.
Some of it was still stuck to the broken spear. Beef hadn’t had the chance to wash it off yet.
It was the left eye, too. Beef was sure of it. And now Etho... Etho, of all people-
One of the waiters, a young man with a bandana, came up to the two of them with a platter of food and drinks, setting them down in front of Etho with a smile.
“Would you like anything to drink?” The waiter asked Beef, but he shook his head, not daring to look away from Etho.
“No thank you,” he said, and the waiter left, wishing Etho a pleasant meal.
Beef had to keep his mouth from falling open at the so-very-obvious-in-hindsight realization.
Etho had a scar in the same place he hurt the wolf.
This... this couldn’t be a part of the joke, could it?
Etho quirked an eyebrow, looking at Beef as if he was the one with the new scar that ran down one side of his face.
“Are you sure everything’s okay, dude?” Etho asked. “You haven’t had too much to drink already, have you?”
“I...” Beef shook his head, desperately trying to clear his thoughts. “It was you.”
“What’d I do this time?” Etho laughed as he started digging into his food. Chicken.
“Don’t play dumb, Etho,” Beef said. “Of course you’d pretend to know nothing when I tell you about the wolf attacks on my farm every single month. Of course you’d laugh at me when I tell you that I am suspecting a were wolf being involved with it all. It was you.”
“Okay, you’ve definitely had too much to drink,” Etho said.
“Don’t-” Beef slapped Etho’s hand away. He spoke in a hushed voice, “Do you remember anything from your time under the full moon? Where were you the past week, man?”
“I was busy,” Etho said between bites. “I told you, you have to get up real early to get the best fish.”
“How’d you get that scar?” Beef asked.
“I had an accident with a piece of equipment. It’s not uncommon.”
Beef held Etho’s eyes for a moment longer, before looking away.
“You don’t believe me,” Etho remarked. Beef shook his head.
Etho shrugged, digging back into his meal. He cut off one of the chicken’s legs, holding it out to Beef.
“Want a bite?” he offered, but Beef shook his head again.
Beef honestly wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. Etho definitely didn’t have that scar before, and it looked awfully fresh, too. Was this really a coincidence? A joke? Or had the old store owner spoken the truth? Beef brushed his hands through his hair, trying to think of what to say, but no matter what he thought of, he was sure that Etho would keep denying it.
He... he had to talk to Etho alone. Later. The thought of it almost sent a shiver down Beef’s spine. If Etho really was a- then... would that even be safe?
He couldn’t think straight. Not with the culprit of his financial despair sitting across from him. Not with that... beast wearing the disguise of his best friend. Not with this many people and this much noise and all these colors and smells in the pub distracting his every thought-
Beef groaned out loud, and got up from his seat. He threw his coat over his shoulder, drawing Etho’s now mismatched eyes to him.
“Leaving already?” Etho asked.
Beef nodded curtly. “Just... stay away from my farm next full moon.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Etho said, taking another bite. Beef turned away, barely catching the glint in Etho’s eyes as he left the pub.
When Beef walked home that night the streets seemed more brightly lit than usual. It wasn't summertime yet, was it? Were the days already getting longer?
If he looked up at the sky he could see the moon peeking through the clouds. It wasn't a full moon yet, but it was close. It wouldn’t be long before Beef would have to reinforce his farm’s fences again.
Would the wolf show up again? Would Etho show up again? Would Beef have to use the spear again, and would Etho show the very same scar in his human form again as well? It was... awfully suspicious for him to show up with a scar in the same place Beef hurt the wolf, but... no, yeah, it definitely looked new. Unless Beef imagined hurting the wolf in the first place, but-
Beef’s own scar itched. He scratched through the bandages at the bite mark, easing the uncomfortable feeling.
It was real.
What Beef had done and seen that night was real.
His heart pounding in his chest, Beef hurried back home.
The full moon came sooner than Beef expected. He felt it rather than saw it; the sky was way too cloudy for him to tell what the moon actually looked like. Beef had been feeling on edge all day, anticipating more chaos to unfold that night.
He had been walking along the outer fences, inspecting it for any parts that might need repairing, just in case. Maybe if the wolf didn’t show up anymore, other creatures would.
As soon as the sun had started to set, Beef hurried back inside. He wasn’t sure what to do. Should he have prepared for another fight with the wolf? Would the wolf have given up after last time? Would it simply stay away? Beef hoped it did. He didn't want to hurt it or get hurt again. But somehow he knew, he knew that the white wolf would come back.
Beef peered outside. It was starting to get proper dark, now. He wasn’t surprised when he spotted the creature from the corner of his eyes. It was already within the farm’s fences, letting out a howl and Beef would have sworn that the wolf was staring straight back at him.
He wasn’t surprised, but that didn’t mean that Beef wasn’t scared. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, the blood rushing to his head, making everything sharper, clearer.
Beef glanced back at the still-broken spear, next to the back door. He briefly thought about bringing it with him anyway, but decided against it at the last second. Before Beef knew it he was outside. He hadn’t even put on his coat.
The clouds drifted away as if sensing Beef’s presence, revealing the soft glow of the full moon.
The white wolf let out another howl, and all breath suddenly left Beef’s lungs. He doubled over in pain, clutching his head, his middle, the ground- anything. Something was... shifting, within him. Rearranging his bones and his organs, the pain quickly being drowned out by the terrible itching that the sprouting fur caused.
Somehow, he knew what was happening, and yet his mind still didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to accept it.
He groaned, cursing at the wolf as it simply watched him writhe in pain. Watched him claw at the ground, at his own clothes. The way it felt like his spine was stretching itself out in a most excruciatingly slow way, his limbs compressed and stretched like dough, his very being molded into something new.
He knew, now.
Just when it felt like he was going to pass out from the stress, it stopped all at once. Beef whimpered, not daring to move a single muscle.
The other wolf nudged at him, causing his eyes to flicker open. He was staring right at the big, white wolf as it towered over his crumpled form.
It looked back at him with curious eyes, one deep black and the other scarred, grey.
Beef’s mind was hazy, but something told him that he knew this wolf. That this wolf knew him, too.
It urged him to get up, and Beef took to his new form with ease. The white wolf howled, and Beef gave in to the pull to howl along with it.
With him.
And then he smelled it.
Food. Animals. Prey.
Beef followed his nose, the white wolf close behind him.
The old store owner was right. What had plagued him for so long really was a werewolf. But Beef couldn’t find it in his hazy mind to care about that right now. He followed his new instincts, everything so new and exciting and promising.
The other wolf showed him where to go to get into the large building in front of him, where the smell of prey was the strongest. Once inside he was nearly overwhelmed with the smells of fear dripping from the animals as he prowled. They looked at him with fear and recognition in their eyes, and Beef drank it all in, just because he could.
The other wolf seemed to grin at him, allowing him to make the first kill. He nearly missed the glint in the other one’s eyes, turning back to the animals in front of him.
There were so many of them. It was a true feast.
And oh, was he hungry.
That night, there were two wolves in Beef’s farm.