The Wolf of the Wilds

The Kitchen

The following day was far less eventful than the first and she left the city with a sizable amount of jewellery to sell off; killing the time on the journey back by estimating her earnings. She guessed that she would make perhaps 800 exim once it was all sold and even that was a strict estimate. It would likely be more.

Her first port of call once within Montis borders was the stables to drop off Cheval and the cart, leaving her books and furniture in the supply cupboard so she could return and pick them up later.

After that she headed to Adrian's home to alert him of her return. If her memory was correct then he was scheduled to be on a break.

His house was a stone's throw from the pack den, down a relatively pleasant street with trees either side. It had a rather quaint air to it and clearly it was where most of the more influential Montis wolves lived. The warriors, the betas and the alpha's family presumably.

As she travelled the cobbled road, she got accusing looks from the wolves that she past. One couple vaguely resembled Ed so she assumed they were somehow related. 

She clearly didn't belong here. A rogue mixing with the pack leaders? It was wrong, unsavoury and a disgrace. Not that she cared.

She reached Adrian's home and jumped the low wall that circled his front garden, not bothering to go to the gate at the far end. She slipped between the vegetable patches where he was growing beans, potatoes and carrots, soon arriving at the front door. After rapping several times, she stepped back and patiently waited for a reply. When none came she tried again, but no one answered. He wasn't in.

"Darn," she muttered to herself, scratching the side of her nose. Where could he be?

She leant against the door frame and pondered for a little while, her fingers tapping against her arm as a fresh breeze ruffled her clothes. Nothing immediately came to mind.

Oh wait.

"The kitchens," she said, pushing herself from her resting position. Once in a conversation a while back he'd mentioned that he often helped out in the community kitchens in his free time. It was certainly worth a shot.

The walk was a short one and soon the kitchens came into view. It was run by the pack and was funded by the pack budget. The elderly and the sick were kept alive on the meals made there.

That was one thing she did appreciate about the Montis. Despite their conformation to traditional werewolf hierarchy, they didn't purposefully make their members suffer. The weak were fed and homed, allowed in live in relative peace. It was incredibly at odds with the treatment of omegas she'd witnessed as a child, but she was thankful for it.

She pushed open the door and stepped into the artificially lit building.

The first wolf that saw her was a middle aged man with greying hair, donning a neat white top with rolled sleeves. He paused as he carried several loaves of bread on a tray and stared at her. A frown crossed his face and he looked around.

"Are you looking for beta Adrian?" He asked. Helena inclined her head forward in affirmation.

"Yes, is he here?" She asked, doing her best to appear polite.

The wolf backtracked several paces and stuck his head into the main kitchen.

"Ah. He's here. He's on bread duty actually. You can head in if you tie back your hair and wash your hands. It'd be great if you could help out actually. We're a little behind today. Would that be too much to ask?"

Helena once again mourned the loss of her dignity, but nodded anyway and resigned herself to an afternoon of good deeds.

"Alright. I suppose it'll kill the time," she replied, rolling up her own sleeves and pulling her hair back into a tight knot as best she could. As always her hair did as it pleased, but it'd do for the time being.