General Colton

I was having my breakfast tea when I got the call from the Officer on Duty. At first I wondered who was the idiot trying to pull my leg – but their serious tone kept me from bawling them out. I had written down the number to call, and via channels it verified to be the customs office at Folkestone. So I gave a call and a very frantic young chap identified himself as a security guard and that they had in their custody a “God damd Real Live Werewolf!!”. 
I managed to calm him down a bit and told him I’d be down ASAP with a squad of men to see this “Weird Beastie”
Ordering a truck from the pool I grabbed four privates and a driver and we were on our way. I really hoped that this was not a joke else some civilian fools would be hoisted off the cliffs of Dover by their tallywackers by nightfall. Her Majesties Army does not take kindly to Fools!.

Took about 45 min to get there and we went on to the base which was all lit up with every spotlight on. We were directed to one of the buildings there and met with some very nervous security blokes.
So we went in down to the cell block and my first reaction was “Jesus Fucking Christ!!”  - It was indeed a werewolf and a big beastie at that.

Keeping an eye on it – it had to be over 2 meters tall. Could not guess the weight under all that fur but I was already worried how we could subdue it if things got nasty.
“Ok – It’s a Werewolf!..  Has it bitten anyone? Been aggressive? Where did it come from?” I asked sternly – hoping my tone would cut through the young man’s nervousness.
“It came out of a container with about 30 or more others, they went over the fence. This one stayed back. No – no sign of aggression, in fact very docile. No bites or scratches to anyone. Oh it can write too” he replied – a little relieved to at last have some responsibility for the situation lifted off his shoulders. He reached over and grabbed some paper with some writing on it.
I took the paper and read it – neat almost cursive script. Letters well formed – sentences.  So it was intelligent. This made it a lot easier for me though I still had 30 or more of it’s ilk now loose in the countryside.
I went up to the bars “Taris.. Right?”  It looked back – the deep golden gaze of it eyes told me there was indeed a mind there.. It nodded. “Why are you here?” I asked handing back the paper and pencil. I watched as it carefully and it neatly wrote “Refugees.. We were to wait for Servy but Servy not here for us”. Well bugger me – it did write but who is this Servy they were talking about?
“Who is Servy?” and it wrote back “Friend, protector, caretaker to our people. He has our papers”
I checked the manifest and saw it came from Romania – not sure if one of the local councils there registered werewolves like we register dogs but still!
“Why did the others run when you got here?”  Taris wrote on the remaining paper “They scared, pups, females, mate, other males. I am Alpha. Leader – I wait, explain – No Harm”
“What will they do out there?” “Hide, no contact. Eat rabbits - not livestock.. Wait for me or Servy to call”
“Can you change back to your human form?” I finally asked and that got a reaction.  It shook it head and made a sort of chuffing chuckling sound. Laughter? Then it patted it’s chest and actually spoke “No Change.. I’m Vargyr”. It’s words although distinct were accented differently – almost growls and coughs, but I guess with it’s muzzle it had to compensate.

So I made a few phone calls.  First to Polston Downs – they’d have facilities better to handle it. Then contacted the police and immigrations asking for anyone called ‘Servy’ to be contacted ASAP. I would guess that this Servy would be equally frantic to find this container and it’s cargo.

I turned back to Taris who was watching me carefully. “Taris – I need to move you somewhere safer. To people who can help you better than here. Do you understand?” It nodded.
“Can I trust you not to escape?”. I was surprised when it answered “Can I trust you to keep me and my pack safe?”. “I cannot help your pack out there but You will be safe” I told it.
And then it made a strange gesture – crossing it’s arms over it’s chest and bowing it’s head down – I took that a promise or assent. Next it moved its hands in front of it – wrists together. Shit – it wanted us to secure it. I looked at the size of it’s wrists, plus the snapped ties on the floor indicating the normal means of restraint would not work. “Don’t have anything to fit you.. nor any I think would work. I guess I’ll have to trust you anyway”
The security guard unlocked the cell door and pulled it open. Taris just stood there. Then it extended a hand – palm up and waited – Bugger – it wanted me to take its hand – still I had my men there in case it tried anything. I reached out and gripped its hand. I noted the warmth, the calloused pads, and the fur – and with only a small tug Taris followed me out to the truck.
We did have one problem when we got there. It stopped and looked around. Seeing an old oak about 4 meters away it pointed and said “Please.. Now!!”
Cautiously we took it over there incase this was a ruse – but it put a paw in to the thick fur of it’s groin and angled it’s Dick!! out and pointed it at the trunk. I had a Lab in my younger days and so was well aware of what its ‘rocket’ looked like and so this Taris was about the same in structure. I heard one of the men give a chuckle as  Taris gave a very relieved groan and pissed on to the tree. Poor bugger – the number of times I had been on parade with a full bloody bladder, and I had no idea how long he’d been holding this in. Still – score points for being civilized and not pissing on the floor. After he’s finished he clambered back in to the back of the truck and we were off.

 MI6

When the papers first passed my desk I though this was a fraud.. But seeing the photo’s of the old writings, the story, the pictures of beautifully crafted artifacts, and finally the desperate plea for asylum made it all too real.  Fortunately I had contacts in the Home Office so I made them aware of the situations – carefully leaving out the more ‘fanciful’ aspects of the case and received a tentative approval based on my own standing in the Government.
Next a phone call to Customs and the phrase they were to speak when opening the container. Sadly that moment had past and this ‘pack’ had fled. However, one remained – and had communicated!! At least they now knew they were not dealing with a dumb animal. The military had been notified through a different channel and so the subject had been processed and was on its way to the military biological labs. Praying that cooler heads will prevail I at once arranged transport to get me there fast.

A copter was ready for me by the time I got to the roof. It was still early hours of the morning and the sun had not yet had a chance to break through the fog when we took off. On the flight I had a chance to reminisce.  Romania indeed. All those legends and one of them just Might!! be true. I wonder how many more folk laws were similarly true. In my younger more active years I was stationed near there observing the Russians, before the old USSR had collapsed, and again I am glad to have learned Romani. The Romani’s I had stayed with were kind people dedicated to keeping the Russians at bay lest they suffer the same fate their ancestor had with the Nazi’s.

The sun was finally up when we landed, and I spoke to the general in charge. Yes the beast was placid, nor it did not cause any trouble. I asked that it be brought to a meeting room and treated with respect. Fortunately, the very fact that it had written something and it’s docile nature had prevented any unpleasantries.

And so now I was sitting in a room. Two chairs, a table, and awaiting what could be the one of greatest legends that we had. A real living werewolf.. No. Vargyr – they could not change to human form.

The door opening and it was led in - no restraints I observed. I gestured to the chair to which it looked at – picking it up and turning it around so it.. No – quite obviously He – could sit down with his tail hanging behind it.
He looked at me – deep golden eyes wary but curious as to my intensions. So I spoke in Romani “I am very sorry Servy was not here to greet you Taris – so I will act for him. Welcome to England. You are safe and welcome here.”
His eyes lit up and he rumbled – a low growling sound from deep within his chest “Servy. Is he…”
“He was in a car accident, he is well and will be joining us as soon as he is able. He made sure to get the documents to us so we could welcome you”
The response was unexpected – He sighed, closed his eyes and wept. Tears rolling down the lighter fur around his eyes. “We.. are safe now?” he asked. “Yes.. one moment though” Moving away I made some quick phone calls – letting various authorities know the situation and passing information to the various local police force that these beings were friendly and to avoid interacting with them. Just to let us know if they have been spotted.
Turning back to him I told him “I have sent word that your people will not be harmed, only to let me know where they have been seen.”

And so the interrogation began. Fortunately Taris was very open and was able to point to area’s of the maps that he knew and explain why they had fled their home land. I offered him a section of the New Forrest for his people to live in, but he said that he would prefer to set up smaller packs so that they would not be strangers to his new country. And that his people would be free to travel between these packs and ‘share stories and mates’.

As we talked I ordered endless cups of tea and sandwiches (Something we British are known for). Taris seemed especially taken with the ham ones, and I could forgive him for poring his tea in to the saucer and lapping it as delicately as he could. I got the canteen to package some supplies including the rest of the ham and arranged transport for the both of us back to Folkestone. I hoped his pack had not strayed too far.

It was dusk when we arrived there and Taris leapt from the back of the van and looked to me. “Call them “ I said, and so he did. A Vargyr’s howl is an impressive thing to hear up close. He kept the notes going for more than a minute – like a wolves but there were different harmonies and inflections embedded in them. More than a simple howl – but a symphony of communication.

We waited and then there was a responding howl in the distance, then another nearby. Some came from behind us and slowly through the twilight and the trees tall furred forms moved towards us.

Taris move quickly to one pair – a female I think, and her cub and they embraced. Hugging, nuzzling, and licking each other in a joyous greeting. Then the female separated and walked over to me. Looking me in the eyes she bowed her head and rested her forehead against mine “Thank you for keeping my mate safe for me” she intoned..

The next few days were frantic. Fortunately the pack had not moved to far and they were all reunited. I had made tents and provisions available to them – sides of beef, lamb, plus various fruits as they seemed to be omnivores more than carnivores. Servy was released from hospital in France and brought over as fast as possible, and it warmed my heart to see the tearful greetings between him and the pack.  I had arranged that Servy’s funds be made available to him so he could start to set up things for his ‘Pack’  who decided just to use their name as Vargyr to identify it.

And that was ten years ago. There were some misgivings at first from those fearful of what these people were. But I also found an undercurrent in society of fans of Werewolves and some others called ‘Furries’ who campaigned strongly for acceptance. Nowadays at least 10 villages proudly claim their own small Packs – who live in harmony crafting various wares for sale.

I was broken from my memories by a phone call from my secretary letting me know the next applicant was here.. the Position of Vargyr Affairs..
The door opened and a young man walked in. I rose to greet him however his gaze did not fall on me – but rather the small statue on my desk. A man with a mustache, wearing a raincoat and carrying a briefcase shaking hands with a much taller furred Vargyr  - both looking in to each other’s faces. A symbolism of our first meeting, and a gift from my friend Taris.