Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the worlds associated with them.

The search for dragons always led Bill to the strangest places. Romania, he understood. Nepal, he understood. He even understood Rome, and Salt Lake City, and Istanbul. He could even understand his trek across the whole of Antarctica. All of these places were either remote enough for dragons to want to be there, or old enough for some dragons to have little other choice.

But, really, New York?

This was going to be a long trip, he thought as he took a swig of ale in the noisy pub. It didn't help that tomorrow was the full moon, and full moons made him antsy. They had ever since he'd been attacked by Greyback. Thank God he'd been attacked on a night that didn't have a full moon or he wouldn't be able to be anywhere near this city. All he really wanted at times like these was a good beer and a nice raw steak.

A couple of seats down the bar sat a stranger, who was barking at a waitress. "No, no! Rare implies dangerously cooked. When I say rare, I mean just let it look at the oven in terror, then bring it out to me." The man had wild eyes and jet black hair, and his pinstriped suit fit snugly over his frilled red shirt and leather vest. The mildly deranged smile on his face didn't fade as the waitress simply rolled her eyes and walked away.

Bill laughed as his took another sip from his mug. As the waitress walked by him, he tugged lightly on her sleeve and pointed to the crazy man two stools away. "I'll have exactly what he's having." She gave a fake smile as she jotted it down before running quickly into the kitchen.

"Spot of lycanthropy, mate?" he asked, turning to the stranger, who was scratching his ear and whimpering just a little bit as he waited for his steak to come out. "Can't say I haven't been there myself." He chuckled a little bit as the stranger furrowed his brow and moved closer.

"Are there really other half-wolves in the Tenth Kingdom?" His eyes sparkled with the prospect.

"Sort of. You get attacked by a werewolf when it isn't the full moon, and life gets a tad bit complicated. I've been this way myself for a few years now." He smiled as the other man got more and more confused.

"You turned into a half-wolf? Lucky. I was just born like this. I've got a tail to prove it and everything." His eyes suddenly glowed yellow. "Always had trouble controlling the… the wolf side. Not so easy to tap into the human bits, especially around the full moon." He struggled to suppress a howl. "My wife normally helps me through it." His face tensed up as he focused on a spot on the bar. "But… but she's visiting her grandmother." His face focused on Bill's once more. "Her grandmother doesn't like me. Probably because I tried to eat her."

"I know the feeling, mate. My wife's grandmother isn't too fond of me, either." He laughed as he stared into his ale. "I never tried to eat her, but she and everyone else in the family says Fleur's too pretty for me. Actually, though," he added, swirling the ale in his mug, "they've liked me more since the attack. Mostly because I used to eat my meat too cooked."

"Everybody who eats their meat cooked eats their meat too cooked," the stranger said, his mouth watering.

"I'll drink to that!" Bill laughed as he downed the rest of his ale. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Wolf!" the stranger answered cheerily. "Wait, no, no! I mean John! John Wolf!" He hit himself on the forehead with the palm of his hand, his eyes darting back and forth as he backpedaled. "Having two names is so confusing! I mean, I love the Tenth Kingdom... New York! New York! That's what it's called! But, huff puff, it's nothing like home, where you get imprisoned for sheep-worrying and that's that." He looked up suddenly. "Am I supposed to ask what your name is now?"

"Bill." He tipped his mug at the stranger, glad to be spending the full moon with his new friend.