GIDEON ANSELSON

“What kind of theory is that, exactly?” the werewolf asked curiously as the man in front of him prompted himself off the tree as if he hadn’t just walked full force into the thing in the dead of night. “Just trying to clear my head. It’s usually peaceful out here.”

Ever since he had found himself displaced in time, Gideon Anselson found himself slightly out of place. It wasn’t just a new place, it’s a new world, a new existence, a new order in which things are meant to do. Everything from how they gathered food, to how they built their homes, hell, even how they talked to one and other had entirely changed. From the other side he’d watched the change, but he’d never imagined he would have to deal with it, interact with the tools of metal and glass that he didn’t underestimate. It was overwhelming, and a part of him was bitter enough to wonder what he’d done to deserve such purgatory. Regardless of the reason, he had to bare it either way, and he’d found himself inside the city, looking over some fruit that was out on display in a building, a store, he reminded himself. The price labels seemed outrageous for something that could be harvested from the forest for free, the circle of life as a whole. Shaking his head, he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath “When did simply living become so complicated...”

The last memory that he had on this plane was a monster tearing everything he loved apart, ruining the home they had fought so hard for, destroying the legacy that was meant to be his. The other side, well, that was it’s own thing entirely, and then there was nothing. Calm. Peace. It could have lasted an eternity and it wouldn’t have been long enough still. Before he knew it, he was in the woods in a world that had turned and turned and left him in the dark. It’s as confusing to see a familiar face as it is disorienting. There are so many things he wants to say to his father, but in the end he settles on the question that was stuck on his mind. “... Do you know why we’re here?”