The wolf padded down the streets, looking this way, and that way. Those that noticed him kept walking, unless they wished to know more about a wolf's mouth than they wanted to otherwise know. Around the wolf's neck was a collar, and an object dangled from it. The object was made of copper and bronze, with a sliver of silver for the shine, and gold for the color, meaning it was worthless, financially, but it was important to those that had it.
At the end of the street, a rookie guard watched the wolf. They wanted to cry out, but the wolf looked right at them, and any thought of calling out vanished. The wolf came right up to them, tilted their head slightly, and stepped into the shadows behind them.
A moment later, a slightly gruff voice called out. "You do have a spare pair of trousers and a shirt in your pack. I need them."
The guard gulped, as they carefully took their pack off, and set it on the ground. They watched as a hairy arm grabbed it, and dragged it back. They heard the pack being open, and things being took out. A while later, the pack was set next to them.
"You may turn around now."
The guard carefully turned, and found themself looking at their Commander, who now looked human.
"Do you smoke?" the Commander asked.
The guard gulped. "No Sir." Their voice sounded off somewhat. "Father always told me it was a filthy habit."
The Commander chuckled. "And he was right; messes with your sense of smell. Maybe an average human's nose is not as good as a werewolf's, but it can pick up things like smoke, dung, food, cologne, and of course, perfume."
The guard gulped at this last bit. "Perfume? I don't smell any."
The Commander looked right at the guard. "You haven't worn it in the last three days, you cut your hair right about then, and your socks smell like you've been missing the can in the Privy. You're a woman pretending to be a man, right?"
The guard hung their head. "Yes, Sir." Their voice sounded like it was defeated. "I was told you didn't hire human women."
The Commander chuckled. "Whoever told you that pile of hogwash is full of horse apples. I hire anyone whom I think will get the job done. I know you signed up as John Smith, but what's your real name?"
"Sally Butcher," the woman said. "Father said that he wanted me to marry a rich man, but I didn't want that."
"I hear you there," the Commander said. "Rich people are never fun. Personally, I hate mingling with them, but given my position, it's inevitable that I have to lower myself to their level." He looked at her. "Sally, I don't care what your family story is. I don't care about your race, or your species, or your status before you became a guard. All I care about is that you are a Guard, right here, right now. Understand?"
The guard smiled, and nodded. "Yes Sir."
"Good," the Commander said. "When your shift is over, I expect you get things straightened with the Quartermaster; we already have ten John Smiths, and having one of them really being a Sally Butcher would be a relief to him on Pay Day."
"I understand sir."
"Good. Mind turning around; I don't want my guards to see their Commander strip naked in front of them."
Sally turned, and she watched as first a shirt, and then the trousers landed on her pack. Then she watched as a wolf emerged from the shadows. The wolf looked at her, and she swore she saw it wink at her, before resuming walking.
Rutabaga Blackfur Copperfindersson remained in his wolf form as he patrolled the streets. Occasionally he saw a guard, who gave him some sort of sign of recognition, and sometimes he saw a thief, who would carefully pull their hands from someone else's pocket, and pretend that nothing was going on. Things were going good so far.
Now, the real question was where to go next....
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