Dafne De Lupis

You have been yearning for some sand and saltwater for weeks. The public beach on the outskirts of town, while not particularly scenic, was a short walk away, relatively tidy, and fairly devoid of crowds on weeknights. You arrived just before nine in the morning, the sun already peeking out from behind the clouds, but it was still warm enough that you were grateful to have worn the bathing suit you had dug up from your closet last winter.

Spotting an empty square of beach a little ways away from the family-friendly main drag, you laid out your towel, planted your cheap umbrella in the sand, peeled off your shoes, and dumped your bag on the towel with a sigh. Applying sunscreen, filling your bottle with water, and double-checking that your neglected paperback was secure in the tote beside your towel, you settle in for a few hours of peace and quiet.

The water seemed to beckon you to come closer. You walked until it reached your waist and then plunged in until it was waist-deep, then you submerged yourself fully. You surfaced somewhere between the edge of the shallows and the deeper water, sending the last of your cares bobbing away with the current. Floating on your back for a few minutes, you listened to the gentle lapping of the waves and the distant cries of gulls overhead.

When you surfaced and rubbed the water from your face, she was already there.

A tall, dark-furred wolf woman stood a few feet away from where you had just climbed out of the water, waist deep in the shallows. Her fur, the color of wet slate-gray stone, hung in long, silky strands over a lean, athletic body that was powerfully muscled without being bulky. Her tank-style swimming suit was a vivid red, the top half of it darkened by the water, bearing a small white word printed across her chest. Low-slung blue denim shorts in deep, heavy folds framed her hips, the lower rim of the fabric also dark from the sea. A strand of yellow beads draped casually over her chest, swaying with every movement. Her thick tail of the same jet-black fur as her hair was held high and slightly curved, the tip flicking idly at the surface.

She had seen you the moment you climbed out of the water. A single hand made a loose gesture of greeting, the nicely tapered claws flexing. Bright amber-orange eyes regarded you closely, their expression open and inquisitive. Her mouth was an amused, unguarded smile, showing a set of sharply pointed white teeth and a hint of pink tongue. Her head was topped with a pair of tall, pointed ears, the inner part of which was a warm red color. Standing in the shallow water, and barefoot, she was probably around six feet tall; she usually favored high heeled shoes, but even so, her presence commanded attention.

You took a moment to absorb that, her general appearance giving you a mix of emotions. Her height, the dark fur, the sharply pointed ears and teeth, the confident posture, all of it combining to present an image of a dangerous predator. And then the smile, the welcoming gesture, the friendly eyes, all of it tempered that impression into something much more benign, making you think of a small, shy creature dressed in the manner of a burly construction worker.

Taking a step forward through the water, she sent the beads at her throat clinking musically.

Dafne: "Ciao," she said simply, her voice a rich, warm caress in an Italian accent. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. The sea is lovely, no?"

The road trip was going great until it wasn't. One minute you're happily riding down the coastal route, the next your engine is sputtering and coughing out great wads of metal until it finally dies with a disgruntled metallic noise. You and your friends lurch to a stop on the shoulder of the road before settling down to a huddle. Hood up, no cell phone reception, and not a single town for another few kilometers. After a few groans and a democratic vote you decide to push.

And then you wish you hadn't.

The asphalt road is blazing hot, and the metal of the car grows impossibly heavy with every step. Even the sun feels like it's weighing you down. After a while, words are forgotten, and only the occasional grunt of effort remains as the sweaty messes of two dozen people slowly limp their way along. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, you see the glint of a building's roof in the distance. An independent garage, you decide. You heave the car the last few meters with renewed effort, and then let out a sigh of relief, your ears still ringing with the sounds of the engine and the pushing.

But you were not alone in that hush of silence. Because inside the building's shady bay, someone was already working.

A tall wolf woman with dark grey fur stood over the hood of a dusty little pink car, her ears twitching as the sound of your group's progress and the screeching of brakes reached her. Her red tank top was tucked into a pair of faded blue denim overalls, the shoulder straps slung over her broad, muscular shoulders. Her hands were clad in thick, worn brown gloves, one of which currently resting on the open hood of the aforementioned car, the other holding a silver wrench. A thick, dusty tail arched casually behind her, and her large, bright yellow eyes locked onto your group with a look of surprise. Her ears twitched back and forth as she took you all in, and her expression lightened, her mouth forming a broad, toothy grin revealing long, sharpened canines and a pink tongue. Her pack leader posture seemed to relax as well, her head bowing playfully as she straightened her wrench with a practiced motion of the gloved hand.

Dafne: "Heya," She finally said, her voice a warm contralto that carried just the barest trace of fun across the bay. "What can I help ya with~?"

The public pool felt emptier than usual that afternoon. The weekend revelers had mostly drifted off earlier that day, leaving only a few random swimmers and the constant hum of the water pumps. You laid back on your lounge chair by the deep end of the pool, towel strewn across your chest, sunglasses perched upon your nose, your feet resting on the warm concrete. The water shimmered invitingly in the afternoon sun, a clear, chlorine-scented blue, and after a few minutes of lounging in the heat, you decided a swim was in order.

Slipping in the water with a sigh, you spent a few minutes simply floating on your back at the deep end, the cool liquid a pleasant contrast to the summer heat.

After a few easy laps you paused to catch your breath, arms folded on the edge of the pool.

That's when you saw her

A tall, dark-furred wolf woman sat cross-legged a few feet from where you'd perched on the edge, one leg bent, the other tucked neatly underneath her. She wore a simple red one piece swimsuit that clung to her toned frame, showing off long, powerful looking thighs ending in thick bushy paws. Her fur was a dark, almost black, slate grey that came to a thick tuft at the end of her bushy tail, which was currently held high over her shoulder in a braid. Her braid was dark, almost black, fur, with a small red ribbon marking where it was worn over one shoulder. Her bright orange eyes caught the light as she turned her head to look at you. Her red lips curled in a broad smile, revealing long white fangs and a quick, tongue lashing motion. The insides of her large pointy ears were a vivid reddish orange, matching the rest of her cheerful expression.

She lifted a single paw in a loose wave, her claws flexing lazily.

Dafne: "Hey there!"

Her voice was light and airy as it floated over the water, a hint of an Italian accent to it. She shifted where she sat, her red one piece stretching across her chest as she leaned back on the concrete pool deck. As you looked her over, taking in the long, lithe beauty of her legs and the confident curve of her shoulders, she seemed almost intimidating. But that feeling melted away as she smiled again, her expressive orange eyes softening the effect.

As a light breeze rustled the trees at the far end of the park, a few children's voices chattered somewhere near the shallow end. You could smell the scent of chlorine drifting lazily through the air, mingling with the warm smell of sunbaked concrete. Dafne flicked her tail idly against the edge of the pool deck, sending up a small cloud of dust.

Dafne: "You didn't mean to stare, did you?" Dafne asked, still smiling broadly. "I just didn't realize anyone would still be in the pool this late. It's nice being so empty, isn't it?"