@congresswolf
Since what had happened, after the first night as a skinwalker and having murdered Tom, Dustin had begun running. He’d headed West, as most people do when running away and eventually ended up back home in Texas. It had been a long lonely journey, just him and his dog Rebel. They’d stayed in hunting cabins, deer blinds, old run down places. Dustin had kept out of towns except when he needed food - or alcohol.
It was a venture in for supplies that drew his attention to the new Rep in California, just a headline that he dismissed as being something National Enquirer worthy until hearing about the guy again, and again, and then a third or fourth time. A werewolf in Congress? Really? How? How could someone be like him and not be hunted or tossed in a zoo or something? What did he know that Dustin didn’t?
He turned north, hitchhiking and sometimes reluctantly utilizing the ground-eating lope of his coywolf form to make it to California. And so eventually a travel-worn young man who had obviously cleaned up using a rest-stop sink and trailed by a large dog, was stopped by security at the California statehouse asking to please have an audience with the State Rep if he was still in town.