Henry’s day had started off... okay. He had woken up, had his breakfast, played with his kids for a little bit before heading off to work. The good, old Fosters Mechanics, his workplace since he was just nineteen years old. Rather than moving on to bigger career prospects, Henry happily remained in the family owned business instead, a family that he considered his own, and had no intentions to move on. But some days at that place were just... awful. Customers yelling at him for things he had done, filing complaints and demanding to speak to the manger, to which Henry had to remind them that he was in fact the manager (well, he’d had some career movement over the years). Much calmer than his past self, the werewolf had done his best to remain relaxed, and simply wait to let off steam when he got home.
Maia’s magic, much more advanced these days, had provided Henry with a place to let out his anger without her having to deal with it. Perfect, really. He’d head down into the basement, shut the door, and... well, smash things. In his wolf form, of course, but his other wolf form; he was going all out today, and things were going well... except they weren’t; he’d forgotten to shut the door completely. His only son, Rocco, aged just two, was a little too curious and strong-willed for his own good, even at this age, and had wandered down to the basement even tho his parents had always said -- “Never go into the basement. Daddy’s got all his sharp work tools down there and you’ll get hurt.” Rocco, like always, never listened.
So that’s what had happened. The boy had made his way downstairs, heard strange noises coming from the basement door, and peered around to see... well, the most terrifying thing he’d ever witnessed in his life. Some sort of terrifying wolf monster. And no Henry to be found. Whilst he was confident even at such a young age, Rocco had let out a horrified scream before running back up the stairs as fast as his tiny legs could take him, bursting into tears as he rushed around the house to find his mother, yelling “Mommy!” as loud as she could. Henry had instantly noticed himself, and was quick to shift back just moments after he saw his son disappear.
“Rocco?” He called in slight worry, beginning to rush up the stairs himself, “Rocco, no, come back! Buddy, no! Where’d you go?”
