Arthur
Naomi did not respond, but weighed her options. Werewolves did not reveal themselves in public spaces on account of being friendly or flirtatious. In fact, there exists an unspoken rule amongst them of not engaging each other in public. Baring your fangs at another werewolf, either from your pack or another, in this scenario, has more than enough grounds to initiate bereavement; a scuffle that could engulf the entire left wing of this airport in a bloodbath. Naomi kept her eyes deadly still on the man, and thought about the lounge host still swirling some concoctions behind the mini-bar.
"No reaction. I knew it." he said with his mouth still half-open. He closed it into a wide grin.
"Now this is interesting. There's a werewolf even in a washed up town like this one?" he mused.
"I could ask the same about you." she replied. Naomi picked up and began reading one magazine from a bundle that the host had placed in the left arm of the chair. "Or I would. If werewolves existed. And they don’t." she said as she flipped a page.
"Ahh. I see." the man played along, a soft twinkling in his eye. "Forgive me, then. I seem to be in error."
"Did you want something else, Mr? Or is discussing fanatical things with women only a pressing hobby of yours?" asked Naomi.
The man chuckled loudly this time. He was liking her. Of course, his mind had already wandered afar seeing the curves on her high-waisted dress, and even more so by the plump and wet, blood-red lips on her mouth. But that was only part of it. There was something else. This was not part of the plan-
"Arthur. Livingsworth." he extended his hand.
"That sounds like such a fake name." Naomi scoffed, but shook his hand anyways.
"And Vince never lets me hear the end of it" he replied.
Naomi blinked twice before she turned another page.
"Am I supposed to know who that is?" she asked calmly.
"Actually, no. Because werewolves don't exist, remember? And you are definitely not going to a werewolf wedding tomorrow where the groom's name is Vincent Moonlight. So you can just ignore me."
Naomi released her facade, and rolled her eyes.
"Come on. How did you know?" she asked.
"Who do you think is the best man." Arthur's eyes twinkled. He tapped a white cylindrical parcel with a blue bow at the top end. "Even got a gift and everything."
"I didn't know we were supposed to bring gifts" she sighed.
"Basic wedding etiquette for werewolves. You may want to sort that out. Or they might kill you." he laughed. Naomi didn't feel like it was a complete joke.
"Ms?" the man asked.
"Naomi" she replied, more co-operatively this time.
"Naomi" the man began with glee "Allow me to inundate thee with tales of grandeur and espionage, first hand from the west. But only under one condition." He shook the white package, and it made a thudding sound, like a bouncing candle or smartphone still in it's box.
"No peeking", Arthur grinned.
Naomi worked to take off the long black overcoat she had used on the plane. She cursed her misjudgement of Canadian weather as she took off her handgloves, and tried to undo the coat belt again. She relaxed soon after her body was 2 pounds lighter, and the monstrous powers of the Airport central cooling system caressed her exposed extremities.
She checked the watch on her left wrist, glanced back at the rotating contraption from which travellers would receive their luggage, and decided she would wait. Of course, she had no baggage except her carry-on, but Arthur had checked in multiple boxes, and he would no doubt soon appear to collect. And she would wait for him.
They had plenty to discuss during the flight. Arthur had approached her seating partner, and after a few introductions and banter that Naomi had managed to mentally extricate herself from , there was big laugh between both of them, and Arthur was soon sitting next to her. Smirking like a monkey that had been handed a banana. Naomi noted that he was unusually charismatic for a werewolf.
The topics were mostly centered on Secret missions. From who and when, he didn't elaborate. She didn't believe all of them, but his stories were better than anything on the in-flight infotainment system. After he winded down a bit, she was able to discuss herself and the school. The idea that she was a Professor absolutely bewildered him, and he couldn't stop laughing.
"Something funny?"she had asked with her eyebrows raised.
"Yes! You. A werewolf Professor. I can't even have dreams about such a thing." he chuckled.
Now, 30 minutes had passed from their landing, and he was nowhere to be seen. While Naomi led the flood of passengers disembarking, he had lagged behind her and disappeared. Naomi considered leaving immediately, after all, they would still meet at the Venue. But she compelled herself to wait 10 more minutes. As she had done the 10 minutes before that.
"Holt?" A girl with a full head of curly hair that stopped at her shoulders stood a few feet ahead of Naomi. She was not there a second ago, and Naomi had not sensed any soul approaching.
"Are you Naomi Holt? It would suck if you're not. That means I'd have to kill you now for even mentioning it. I try not to make mistakes, but sometimes it's like,what can you do? So..." she gestured her hands as awaiting a response.
Naomi seemed unimpressed. She didn't like that the Moonlight pack had sent an envoy so soon.
The girl snapped her fingers. She remained strangely still as she talked in that contemptuous manner , not even gesturing her hands or face or legs, as if to seal away any wasted movements. Her entire outfit so black that it was undiscernable to tell what she was wearing exactly, and it seemed to suck the brightness away from the windows outside and the overhead lights in the hall.
"Let's go, Madam Holt", the girl said, with a subtlemockery in her voice.