Changeling's Fealty

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MY INTRODUCTION to the wonderful people of Canada was literally running into a large, leather clad, blond man who stopped unexpectedly as I crossed the parking lot of the bus station.

The man turned to face me, sniffing exaggeratedly, and bared a canine smile. “Well, lookie here; I think I smell something...faerie.”

I raised my hands placatingly, wanting anything but a fight within an hour of my arriving in the city of Calgary. “Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to run into you,” I drawled quickly, only to see his grin expand. Somehow, the man knew what I was.

“I would think your kind would be more careful, little faerie,” the man told me, and with a sinking feeling I realized the canine impression was more than just a passing fancy. A wolf shifter had decided to pick a fight with me, in a parking lot.

“I just got into town,” I said as quickly as I could. “I didn’t know this was your pack’s territory.”

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