Ettore | ✔️

𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

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𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒎𝒂'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚

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Syretia watched in amusement as Ettore looked at all the clothes in some men's clothing store she led him into; she hadn't bothered to look at the name since she had no plans on returning.

He disappeared into the changing room before coming back out. He sure cleaned up nice for being a man that was trapped in a wolf's body for however long. It made her curious as to how he had such a nice 5 o'clock shadow and not an unruly beard. She'd have to ask him or Welma about that later. She was brought from her thoughts as he exited the changing room.

He was dressed in a pair of dark washed jeans that fit him nicely, a light gray hoodie, and a navy blue and white flannel. And those damn sandals.

"Looks good... but what about shoes?" She asked, gesturing at the ugly sandals.

"They've kind of grown on me," he shrugged turning to look at himself in the mirror. His slightly curled dark blonde hair, nearly brown, laid messily on his head as it reached to just above his shoulders. He pulled at a tendril before sighing.

"We could get it cut if you want," Syretia offered, standing up from the bench she had been sitting on to walk up beside him.

"No, I like it like this. All my life my hair was short and had to be styled perfectly."

"Were your parents superficial?"

"They had to be," he murmured picking up a pile of clothes he had picked out and already tried on along with boxers and socks. "After all, they're the King and Queen of the royal werewolf court in Italy."

She spat out her water she had been sipping on. Literally. Her face burned bright red as a sales clerk had to come over and wipe it up off the floor.

"So you're a freaking prince?!" She whisper-shouted, looking around, undoubtedly looking like that crazy squirrel from Over The Hedge.

"Yes, I was a freaking prince," he replied with a chuckle as he carried the clothes to the register. Syretia swiped Welma's card when the cashier finished ringing up all the items. "Do your parents know where you are?" Immediately, she regretted asking as a somber look took over his features.

"Kind of."

"Do you think they'll come looking for you?" She couldn't help it as the word vomit spilled out. She was curiously nosey.

"I highly doubt it," Ettore stated as he took a step around the counter so the cashier could scan the tags on the clothes he currently had on. "It doesn't matter anymore. I have a new life now." Syretia simply nodded taking the credit card back from the cashier and sticking it into her wallet.

She then led him into her favorite shoe store and made a beeline to men's section. "You probably need a pair of sneakers and a pair of boots."

He looked down and studied my boots, "what are those?" She bit her lip containing a laugh as she remembered that dumb, overused vine.

"They're Doc Martens. Super comfy, these don't have the super thick leather so they take no time at all to break in," She rambled. "I wear these all day, and my feet never hurt. Do you want a pair? I'm sure Welma wouldn't mind if we splurged, plus these boots last a long time. We'll call it a long-term investment."

"How much are they?" He asked as he walked over to the boot section grabbing a black Doc Marten's boot off of its display shelf.

"Mine were $135," I began, "but mine are a thinner leather..." She walked over to him and took the boot he was holding. "This is the thicker leather so it'll probably cost a little more." She looked around briefly and found the yellow price tag on the shelf. "Two-hundred dollars, not too bad, honestly." He looked a little guilty.