Of course, she had to tell him.“I wouldn’t usually think of green hair as good-looking, but yours actually works well.”A muzzle.I need to ask my parents for a muzzle for my next birthday.Then maybe I’ll keep my big trap shut.
Callon watched the newly discoveredanimus, Lola Katz, move gracefully about the dining area of the pizzeria.Tucked back in the furthest booth he could get from her section, he used the natural glamour of his kind to help eyes avoid him.The magic worked a bit like a bug-repellent.Humans naturally glanced away as soon as they caught sight of him.Though, if Lola stared for more than a minute, she’d pick up on hisotherness, the same way she had with the previous beastwalkers who’d been there.Thanks to the pouring rain outside, keeping the hood of his jacket pulled over his head, didn’t make his appearance suspicious or conspicuous.
Still, there was a part of him that wanted her to spot him, to see him for what he was.There would be shock when he told her about the beastwalkers that lived alongside humans, and he wanted to hurry and get that part over with.Callon hoped she wouldn’t be one of those females that freaked out and screamed, or cried, or worse… ran.Running would make the predator in him want to chase her.Okay, maybe that part would be fun.If he was considering chasing a pretty female as fun, perhaps it was time for him to take a break from his duties at work and go on a hunt.
It was the eighth day in a row that he’d followed Lola.No, following wasn’t what he was doing.Callon was stalking, which was different than hunting.Hunting was to take down prey you intended to keep.Stalking was merely for observation.Yet, Callon had thought of nothing else but Lola, as he tracked her from her job at the pizzeria to her apartment and back.From the minute he’d laid eyes on Lola, he’d been fascinated by her.Instant attraction?Yes.He wasn’t blind.Despite being a human, the woman was striking.
Lola was petite, with wild, untamed, light-red hair, streaked through with blonde highlights.She had dimples when she smiled, something Callon liked seeing more and more.Though he wanted those smiles for himself.She gazed at the world through bright, sparkling, peridot eyes.When she ate or drank, it was with lush, pillowy lips set below an undeniably cute nose.Callon noticed her skin was different colors– variegated with her natural light skin to a very pale flesh– a bit like some of the beastwalkers of his kingdom when they were in their animal form.Earth had breeds of cat with similar markings.This intrigued him, as he'd rarely seen the trait in humans.After a bit of research, he'd learned the two-toned anomalies came from a condition humans called vitiligo, which caused their skin to lose its pigmentation.The condition was not desirable among the humans, but Callon thought it looked wonderful on Lola, giving her a fierce and exotic appearance.When he’d finally admitted his feelings about the human to Roan, the Shaman laughed for a full minute.
“I told you that one day you’d find the one for you,” Roan told him.“But you were determined to believe there was no way Visata would give you an animus for a mate.Without the animi, our kind cannot survive.We need the females.”
“And I told you to mind your own damn business,” Callon snarled.He wasn’t mad at Roan, he just happened to be the person in front of him at the wrong minute.Callon felt the need to tell someone what was happening to him, and he knew if he went to his father, then his mother would find out.And she would have a nursery decorated by the end of the day for cubs that would likely never be born.
“It’s not a curse, Callon,” Roan said.“It’s a blessing.Deep down you know it.Your beast knows it.Without a mate, you will only be half of what you were destined to be.”
Callon sighed as he looked back at the female who’d turned his world upside down in eight days.It hadn’t taken all eight days to have him rethinking his whole outlook on humans– Well, one human.It had been a moment.A brief look into her mind he’d stolen without her knowledge and yet wouldn’t give it back.
Callon sat outside Lola’s window on the fire escape of her apartment building in what had become his nightly ritual.His inability to stop the practice annoyed him, but he couldn’t deny he looked forward to this time every evening.He particularly enjoyed listening to Lola talk to her cat.She spoke to it as if the animal could speak back and actually cared about what she had to say.The lucky little beast was privy to the inner-workings of her interesting, quizzical mind.
The first night he’d arrived, she’d been talking, and he’d thought there was a person in the room.Callon originally told himself he wouldn’t invade her privacy by watching her through her window like a complete creeper.But that quickly vanished when he’d heard her speaking.He had to know if there was someone in her room, and more importantly to his mind, he had to know if that someone was a male.He’d found Lola laying on her bed, legs swinging up and down behind her while she ran her fingers up and down her cat’s stomach.Callon would come to realize this was a common position for the pair.Dog, the ridiculous name she’d given her cat, liked to have his belly rubbed.Who wouldn’t?And Lola apparently derived some sort of enjoyment from the interaction.Was Callon jealous of a domestic feline?That was a question he refused to answer.He had to maintain some dignity.
“Tell me I’m not crazy.”Lola’s voice drifted from the window she often kept cracked enough that Dog could slip underneath and sit out on the sill.
“He can’t tell you that,” Callon muttered softly.
“The things I’ve seen, Dog…” She sighed.“They can’t be real, and yet I want them to be.At least, I think I do.I’m scared and excited at the same time.”
A deep purr filled the silence, as if the cat was responding.
“I know, I know.I should just be grateful for what I have, that I’m healthy.I have a job, two loving parents, yada, yada.You don’t have to tell me.”Lola sighed.“But just think, if there were such things as magical creatures—people who could shift into different forms—something as silly as two-toned skin would be nothing to stare at.I would be considered normal by comparison.”
She was quiet long enough Callon thought maybe she’d fallen asleep.He slipped his head around the edge of the window, staying in the shadow, and saw she was writing in a journal.This was the first time he’d seen Lola do this.His own curiosity burned to know what she wrote about.If she was so open with her pet, how much more would she be in the pages of a book she considered a safe space?Callon watched the emotions filter through her mind to her pen and onto the page.He saw the stern brow of concentration, the pinched lips of annoyance, and then the glazed-over eyes of sadness.There was nothing hidden, and Callon would give just about anything to get his hands on that book.
“Lola.”Her mother’s voice came from the other side of the closed door.“I’ve fixed dinner.Come join us.”
Lola snapped the book closed and gave Dog a final belly rub.“Coming,” she called back and headed for the door.
If he didn’t know better, Callon might’ve thought his Creator was providing him an opportunity to learn more about this female.Breaking into her room and reading something so private didn’t exactly align with Visata’s principles.Regardless, when Lola closed the door, Callon swiftly lifted the window and slipped inside without a sound.The scent of pizza, mixed with a feminine aroma, filled his nose.The beast inside of him approved of being in her space.It wanted to claim it as his own, to have the right to be there instead of being a trespasser.Callon mentally snarled at himself as he stalked to the bed and picked up the book.Dog leapt to his feet and hissed.Callon knelt down until he was eye-level with the small cat.He met his gaze and let out a low purr.A moment later, the fierce little beast rubbed his head against Callon’s shoulder.“Better,” Callon murmured and then stood up.
He opened the book and found the page where she’d left off.
Dear God,
Today has been one of those days when self-pity takes hold of me.I know it’s foolish.There are countless more significant issues in the world than how people perceive me.Yet, I can’t deny that it stings when someone points out my differences, as if I’m oblivious to them.If You weren’t already aware of everything, being God and all, You might assume it was some guy who made me feel terrible about myself.Perhaps even a typical ‘mean’ girl.Surprisingly, it was neither.
A grown woman who should have known better managed to reduce me to that timid child hiding during recess, trying to avoid prying questions and judgmental stares.She warned her daughter not to touch my skin, as if whatever I had was contagious.She didn’t mean for me to overhear, and strangely, that made it worse.When I approached their table to take their order, the woman acted kind and friendly.Had I not heard the disgust in her voice when she spoke of my skin, I might have believed the facade she wore.
I have more respect for someone who can honestly look me in the eyes and admit my vitiligo unsettles them than for someone who secretly finds it repulsive but treats me as if I’m special.The audacity of that woman!She even had the nerve to compliment my hair and claim it complimented my complexion.Was she trying to ease her own shallowness?Maybe.Or perhaps she’s so accustomed to belittling others due to her own insecurities.Not that she had anything to feel insecure about.She was beautiful.Her daughter even more so.I even complimented her because it felt empowering to show kindness to someone who treated me so poorly, though she remained oblivious to my awareness of her true feelings.
As You know, again, being God and all, there was a time when I harbored anger toward You for creating me this way.I couldn’t comprehend why I had to possess such an obvious flaw.Why couldn’t it be something concealed, like the critical woman’s judgment?But I think I’ve moved past that.
Now, I want to thank You because my condition prevents me from becoming a person who wears a mask, who pretends to lift others up, only to tear them down behind their backs.I don’t want to be that kind of person.I recognize that I still have hang-ups about my appearance, but I’m slowly beginning to see the beauty that can come from being different.I can relate to those who struggle to love themselves, even the parts of themselves that they can’t change.They aren’t flawed, at least not those parts of them.I mean, we all have flaws and areas where we can better ourselves, but not every little imperfection needs to be changed.It’s those things that make us unique.With that addressed, can we now deal with the fact I am seeing things no one else seems to be able to see?And that means I am either losing my mind, or there are greater things in the world than just the animals and humans You created?If it’s the latter, God, then I hope I can be a part of that world.Yes, there is the secret part of me that thinks, perhaps the people in that world would find my differences beautiful, instead of something to stare and point at.
Mom’s calling.Those are my inner musings for today.Perhaps I’ve grown a little since yesterday.Hopefully, there’s been a change in me from one day to the next.If so, I hope it is for the better of society and not the detriment.
~Lola
Callon scanned the words a second time and then a third.He set the book down on the bed, treating it as the precious object that it was.He felt a moment of guilt for reading it.That was quickly followed by the guilt of being the exact type of person Lola had described.
