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Azalla's home stood on the edge of a shadowy grove, its silhouette looming against the backdrop of a moonlit sky. Twisted, gnarled trees surrounded the worn path leading to her doorstep, their branches clawing at the night like skeletal fingers. The old Victorian house, with its peeling paint and creaking boards, seemed to breathe a ghostly sigh as the wind rustled through its numerous panes. Jack-o'-lanterns flickered menacingly on the porch, their carved faces flickering with a mischievous glow that danced over the old wood. Cobwebs adorned the corners of the porch and nearly every surface, giving off an aura of eerie elegance that suggested both a welcoming spirit and an ominous warning to those who might dare approach.

Inside, the ambiance was just as chilling, with dim candlelight casting elongated shadows that flickered ominously across the walls. Azalla had adorned her living room with an eclectic mix of costumes, skeletons, and bats that dangled from the ceiling. The air was thick with the scent of spiced cider, mingling with a hint of something more mysterious, perhaps a waft of old books or whispered secrets that lingered between the pages. Her faithful black cat, Shadow, watched from his perch on the windowsill, his yellow eyes glinting like twin moons as he surveyed the darkness outside.

As night deepened, Azalla settled into her favorite chair by the window, clutching a bowl of candy, the sweet morsels shimmering in the low light. The wait stretched on, filled with the rustle of leaves and distant echoes of laughter from children donning costumes in search of candy treasures. With each creak of the old house and every gust of wind, anticipation simmered in the air. Azalla couldn't help but smile, knowing the true spirit of Halloween would soon come alive at her doorstep, where the darkness of the night held promises of joyful trick-or-treaters and the exciting thrill of the unknown.

Vince loved Halloween.

People who knew him had assumed it was, because it was the one night where he didn't have to mask his true nature.
That was of course wrong. He had tried to go out in his werewolf form once, and let's just say… the local news had a field day with the story, and it had taken months for the heat to die down and for the hunters to find a new target.
And Vince still hadn't got any candy. He still was more sore about that part than about people hunting him with silver weaponry.

Vince loved Halloween because it was a silly holiday. He had his own traditions: getting dressed up in a costume, search for a place that looked like it hosted a big party, see how long it took for people to figure out he wasn't the cousin of a cousin and he was asked to leave.
And, the important part, score free food in the progress. It was almost like trick or treating for grown ups.

And thus, he arrived at the Victorian house, hoping for yet another party to infiltrate. He had went for a classic, an eye-patch, an simple shirt, grey urban-cargo-pants, his usual leather jacket and the hope of meeting someone who liked retro-cyberpunk movies.

"Am I early?" he asked, sending out his best i'm-supposed-to-be-here vibes as he approached the doorstep, spending a side-glace at the cat.
Cats often recognized Vince for what he was, but luckily for him, they hardly cared enough to make a scene because of it.

Azella stood up and smiled at him, her cheerful demeanor lighting up the room. “Oh no, you’re not early,” she laughed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The cat, sensing the stirring anticipation in the air, leaped gracefully under her rocking chair, seeking refuge from the bustling atmosphere. Azella was in the midst of her favorite Halloween tradition—passing out candy to eager trick-or-treaters, an event that always filled her with joy. “I’m passing out candy to kids for a few hours, then the party starts,” she explained, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. The scent of chocolate wafted through the air as she picked up another bowl filled to the brim with colorful wrappers. “Want to help?” she offered, her inviting smile suggesting that the evening was going to be filled with laughter and sweet treats. The thought of joining her in spreading joy made the idea of a simple Halloween turn into something truly special.

Vince countered Azella's happy eyes wit a smile. As he heard that the party was hours out, he shoved the eye-patch up onto his forehead,.
Usually that was the part where they'd exchange names, but Vince acting as if he was invited usually involved not to initiate that social ceremony. For the moment, 'You' would do.

"Fair warning, when you give me candy, for whatever reason, 10% will vanish, due to my personal tax-policy." he added. His eyes darted after the cat for a moment, then Azalla had his undivided attention once more.

Vince extended his hands towards the candy bowl, ready to take it on. "So… are there a lot kids around?" he was curious

Azella settled back into the comforting embrace of her rocking chair, letting out a soft sigh of relief as her cat leaped onto her lap, finding the perfect sunny spot. With a playful grin, she glanced down at her furry companion. “I’m so sorry. I’m Azella,” she exclaimed, slapping her forehead in mild frustration. It was unlike her to forget the basics of hosting, yet in the flurry of excitement and anticipation, she had overlooked the introductions. Surely, everyone she invited should know her name, but perhaps it was true that the more, the merrier; maybe some guests had come through other invitations. Her heart raced with the prospect of meeting new faces and exchanging stories.

As she chuckled at the witty comment about a 'candy tax,' reassuring her guest that there was no shortage of sugary treats this Halloween, she heard footsteps approaching. Her grin widened as she glanced up, only to be greeted by two delightful characters straight out of a fairytale—Dorothy and the Tin Man, adorned in their festive costumes. “Trick or Treat!” they chorused in unison, their faces lighting up with the joy of the evening. Azella's laughter bubbled forth as she shifted her cat to the side, eager to embrace the candid spirit of the night and share in the joy of treats and playful revelry.

"Vince. Just Vince. If you call me Vincent, I'm going to assume you're an undercover cop." The very same answered with a clumsy hint of a bow.
His eyes wandered to the cat, searching a sunny spot. "And who are you?" he asked Shadow, as if he expected him to answer directly.

For all of Vince's power, speaking in the tongue of animals wasn't something he was, or ever could be capable of. Didn't stop him from trying, though.

Vince leaned against the next wall. He would've properly cultivated his tough guy image, but it was impossible to be cool while noming on sweets and being infected by his sunny host with a goofy smile.
Ah, well, Vince would survive.

He even unstuck from the wall, and went on his knees to be roughly at eye level with the children, handing out some of his ill-gotten candy. "Where did you left the lion?" he was curious, rising to a standing position once again.

"Nice to meet you, Vince," she said, bowing back awkwardly as she tried to shake off her nerves. Her hands were slightly clammy as she turned to the children nearby, their eyes wide with anticipation. One by one, she distributed the candy she’d brought, each treat met with delighted squeals and giggles. It was moments like these that made her smile, the innocence of childhood a refreshing escape from the complexities of adult life.

Across the room, the tin man chuckled heartily at a quip made, his metal frame glinting in the soft light. With a playful grin, he pointed to a stroller where a baby, bundled in a fluffy lion costume, napped peacefully, a small tuft of faux mane peeking out. The scene was heartwarming, a perfect reflection of the whimsical environment they were in—a place where fantasy and reality blurred into a colorful tapestry of laughter and joy.

As she observed, Azella couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest watching Vince interact with the children. There was something undeniably charming about the way he carried himself, a blend of confidence and playful spirit that made him both approachable and intriguing. She found herself stifling a giggle as she buried her face into her cat's fur, her imagination running wild at the thought of him acting tough. The juxtaposition of his rugged demeanor alongside the innocent thrill of the occasion only added to his allure.

In that moment, surrounded by laughter and warmth, Azella felt a spark of connection. Maybe it was the shared smile over the candy or their mutual delight in the antics of the tin man, but she sensed an unspoken bond forming. As she glanced back at Vince, who was now jesting with another child about the baby lion in the stroller, she realized that sometimes the most genuine moments come from the simplest interactions—a shared laugh, a kind gesture, and an unexpected connection that warms the heart.

Vince laughed. "I bet it is the real deal, both crying like a coward and screaming like a roaring lion when awake." he said with a smile.
It wasn't that bad, giving away candy when you at least brightened up someone's day.

Children were easy. They roughly had Vince's level of maturity, after all. The big guy fully rose and returned to Azella's side. He still hasn't caught the cat's name.
Maybe, he thought, he was able to talk to cats after all. Maybe it wasn't even a werewolf, but a human power, but cats, being cats, just decided to never react anyways.
It would make a lot of sense.
"I hope you have reserves." Vince told Azalla. "When the word that you've got the good stuff hits the street, we'll be drowning in clients."

Azella smiled with an infectious joy that seemed to light up the dusky evening. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow on her porch as she gestured for him to follow her to a secluded corner shrouded in shadows. There, nestled against the wooden beams, was a small chest overflowing with an assortment of colorful candies—glistening wrappers reflecting the faint glow of the porch light. "I think I have plenty," she said, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. Halloween was her favorite time of year, a magical occasion filled with laughter, mischief, and an endless supply of sweets.

With just one more hour to go before the festivities began, Azella felt a thrill of excitement course through her. Soon, her home would be buzzing with friends in elaborate costumes, the air filled with laughter and the scent of caramel apples. For now, though, she savored this quiet moment, bending down to the chest and holding out her arms, inviting the playful spirit of the night to come alive. “Come, Shadow,” she called gently, a name befitting the black cat that wound around her legs. As he approached, she knew that together they would embark on a night filled with enchantment and joy, one that would linger in her memory long after the last trick-or-treater had come and gone.

Vince had no problem with being infected by joy. There was a spring to his steps as he followed her into the dark shadow.
"Plenty? Not since you showed me where you store it, you don't." Vince joked, returning her smirk. Then again, he only took a fistful of chocolate - for now.
He would get more later, when she would've forgotten all about his devious plan, when there were other people to distract her!

"Can I pet you?" Vince asked Shadow, before filling his mouth with a chocolate bar. It almost looked like some sort of cigarette, helping his own costume along.

The two would see a young mother and her two children walking towards Azella's home. The little boy dressed as a black cat with his pumpkin bucket and the slightly older girl dressed as a princess with a skull bucket... oddly not matching her outfit, but the rattle of treats inside said she was doing fine for snacks.. The second house for the night. With an excited squeal, the princess grabbed her brothers hand and pulled him towards the house.

"Look James! Its so big and scary lookin!" Their mother followed at a distance with a wistful smile. She didn't exactly have an outfit, just a blue dress. that looked a few decades out of date.

The boy, dubbed James, stayed behind his sister who very confidently and excitedly bounded up to the woman and the large man.

"Trick or Treat!" She glanced to her quiet brother and her voice lowered. "Youre supposed to say it too, James."

The boys eyes held gaze with the tall and supposedly imposing man. "Oh... uh.. Uh. Trick or Treat..."

The little girl sighed whislt her mother mused from several paces behind them.

Vince spent a moment being large, imposing and not doing much else. Well, not much else other than eating a chocolate bar, but did that count?

He looked at the boy for a moment, then he gave his best smile. There probably was a valuable lesson about prejudices in there, although Vince might be the wrong guy for it, being neither the best member of society, nor undangerous, being a werewolf and all.

Although the worst thing the three had to fear from him was diabetes, because, well, Azalla had provided him with a lot of candy to hand out.
"I think I'd rather not take the threat. Black cats are an omen of bad luck, after all." he said good natured, before kneeing down to eye level the children again. He filled both of his fists with candy, and extended them to one of each kids.
"Buckets please, your highness, your… catiness?" He blinked. "…your pawiness?"
Not better. He shot the mother a quick look, hoping she could help him out here.

Their mother chuckled as the girl held her bucket out. She had to nudge her brother again to do the same. “Catness would probably suffice.”

The girl squinted at the man for a brief moment. “You smell kinda like mom… but dog…”

Before he could ask further, she tugged her brother away with the candy now acquired.

Azella couldn’t help but chuckle at the playful jab about Vince’s odor. "You kind of do smell like a dog," she admitted with a teasing smile, but the laughter was tinged with an unexpected pang of nostalgia. The scent had sparked memories of her beloved dog, who had passed away not long ago. She quickly pushed those thoughts aside, not wanting the sorrow to seep into the light-hearted atmosphere surrounding them. Instead, she redirected her focus, lifting her bowl and offering it to the small child nearby. “Take as much as you want,” she encouraged, her voice warm and inviting, happy to share what she had.

As she shared her generosity, her cat Shadow padded over, his green eyes wide with affection. The feline settled at the child's feet, purring and leaning in, begging for gentle scratches. Azella smiled at the wholesome scene before her, feeling a small flicker of joy.

But unbeknownst to the humans, Shadow had his own thoughts swirling through his feline mind. “Mr. Wolf,” he whispered audibly only to Vince, tilting his head with a mischievous glint in his eye, “you may pet me if you don’t eat me later.” It was a playful challenge, encapsulating the weird, whimsical world they all inhabited—both the light-hearted and the serious lingering beneath the surface of their day-to-day lives.

The little boy knelt down to pet the cat, gently running a hand over the soft fur. His sister looked a little exasperated that he wasn’t leaving with her, even after the extra sweets that the woman handed out.

“Come on, James. We need to visit other houses if we want to get more candy.”The boy looked up at his sister with what could only be described as sad puppy eyes.

“But the cat is letting me pet it. They never let me pet them normally.” He lowered his voice so only the cat would hear the pouty tone. “I wish I could be a cat like my sister. I only get to be a pony like mom…”

Vince lifted his head, sniffing. He tried to do it in a subtle way, curious what the "mom"-scent would be.
Someone that sensed his true nature by smell, that could mean interesting parentage.

"So people keep telling me. Maybe I should change my shampoo." Vince quipped back at the dog-smell. He raised a brow at Azalla's laugh, but had the social awareness not to instantly talk about it.
It was one of Vince's rare moments.

He sat down on the floor next to the door so he could wait for his turn to pet Shadow. He wasn't planning on eating that cat later, after all.
It wasn't that cats weren't tasty, but the effort to actually catch one far outweighed the one or two bites you got out of it. Also, Vince liked cats, and that went double for talking ones.

While undetectable to humans, anyone with a heightened sense of smell would be able to sense… water…. From both the children and the mother. The mother smelled more of marshy, shallow waters like the boy, whilst the girl had more of a river or creek about her with maybe a hint of cat. As they looked on, the children’s mother, as pleasant as she was being, had the careful gaze of a predator. One that was, thankfully, playing nice.

“James. Lin. Thank them for the candy and let’s go. We can’t keep bothering them for much longer. They’ll have other guests soon.” The way she said it was in a way that the children knew not to refuse. That potential danger was near and that they should stay close to safety.

Vince lifted his head. Using his sense of tact and all of his politeness, he carefully worded his next question.
"Are you a bog witch?" he asked the mother of the two. In his defense, the question was asked with honest curiosity rather than being an accusation.

In this very localized moment, he was mainly a danger for the candy that went around. Well, and Shadow was in danger of being petted.

“My husband thought the same when we first met. I mean no harm to you should you give the same courtesy to myself and my children.” The woman’s eyes narrowed, fully aware that they hadn’t actually given any proper answer. Something their husband taught them.

It had taken them years to settle their inherit anger towards males and the general human population. Their husband had been a major part of getting them and their children more socialised. That’s why they were out tonight. To let the children enjoy a human tradition whilst getting to see how other children and people acted. It would make blending in much easier and flawless.

"I don't mean you no harm if you don't mean me no harm." Vince answered, his eyes becoming slits as well. "…which means, we're in a deadlock of circular logic, because if either of us means the other harm, both of us are, but if none of us is, none of us are."
Was that a prisoner's dilemma? Would pulling a lever or renaming a ship get him out of there?
Vince seemed to be honestly confused by this.