#werecaninecryptidkin

[grimmwolf]

Here’s my werebeast playlist. The songs relate to my life as a werebeast; where I’ve been, who I’ve met, cultures I was exposed to. It’s extremely culturally inclusive, if you look hard enough 😂

Antwhos, introoooduciiiingggg…

“The Werewolf Who Loved Music”

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In this life, I believe I traveled very far and wide. Always running from something, or someone, I presume. Hunters, perhaps. They always knew my kind was out there. That I, was out there. I was well known. They knew my dark coat well. I was hated very much, always leaving claw marks on everyones’ roofs, I suppose. But I knew how to survive. Until one, fateful night, of course… I always found I belonged in these places, and considered them all my homes. Too bad I had to leave all of them behind…

Ps. This life took place in the time range of the beginning of the 1800s to mid century 1850s-1870s. Pre Industrial Revolution to Industrial Revolution ish, America time.

The most prominent places I remember being was in the south. Places like New Orleans, the Bayous, the swamps, Virginia, Tennessee, and the Carolinas, etc.. The Cajun and Zydeco music, the Cajun French language, and the seafood. The banjos, fiddles, harmonicas, and rag on pianos. It wasn’t all that happy all the time, though. It was a time of work all day or you won’t survive. In the working lands, it was very depressing, at times. The men worked all day as the wives took care of the house and children. Miners, lumberjacks, engineers, sailors. They worked tirelessly from dusk till dawn. I respected them very much. I would always visit the bars at night, singing tunes with them at happy hour. Folk songs and shanties galore. Letting them forget the work, even just for a few hours.

Arizona, Argentina, Brazil, Cuba, Guarma, Guatemala, Texas, New Mexico, and Mexico, etc.; that’s where all the Latin, Mexican, Spanish and such music in the playlist comes from. I remember listening to the Mariachi bands play at bars, pubs, saloons. On the streets, in the desert, in their home towns. They were everywhere 😂 I remember taking part in Fiestas and having such a good time with everyone. Well, I did that everywhere 😂 The trumpets, trombones, tubas, drums. The voices singing the words to each and every song. It was all so lively. Well, everywhere was 😂 Except for the occasional sad guitar. Beautiful, and full of emotion. They sang for their wives, children, families and friends. It always made tears come to my eyes. Sometimes I’d find myself wandering into the desert, coming across the occasional lone rider. We’d sit at a campfire for a time, talking, sometimes flirting, before it was time to leave again. I couldn’t give a whole lot of trust to anyone, though I’d know I could survive if someone were to attack me. I just always wished I could trust people, though.

I also remember French music. Accordions, mostly. I’ve lived in Paris, France, for a while, maybe surrounding areas as well. I remember looking out into the city, climbing and crawling on the rooftops. Well, I did that everywhere too 😂 But I distinctly remember the apartments, the lights, the open windows on balconies, and watching and listening to everyone chatting, singing, or dancing in their homes, with or without their loved ones. I roamed the streets at night, frequently, in my human form. The music was beautiful, people dancing and coupling up. I had always longed for a special someone, especially at moments like these. This is one of the places I interacted the most with others like me, I think. They would always find me on rooftops, they knew my routes, just like everywhere else. I was quite popular with them, though, I preferred to keep my distance. But, they always knew where to find me. I had my hideouts, I remember this one in Paris. It was in an old abandoned apartment, I kept to the the attic room, with an open windowed balcony, and a beautiful view of the city. Sometimes I’d keep pets, dogs and other animals I found were homeless, or in need of a mother. I couldn’t risk my babies getting eaten by a hungry male werebeast. No, sir-y.

Oh, and I can’t forget about the bagpipes, of all things. Some were in the south, migrated there from Scotland. Some fiddles I heard in the south were from Ireland, as well. New Orleans had the majority of foreigners, heard Mariachi, sad guitars and accordions there as well. But, I’m talking about bagpipes now. Gosh, I loved them. I even tried learning how to play, I was so in love with them. I failed. Hard. It was difficult af 😂 I don’t even know how I got to Ireland and Scotland at the time. Maybe I took a boat from Canada or something. I’ve always had a connection to these places though, probably from being part Irish and Scottish myself. I guess the Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Or something 😂 I remember walking out into the foggy hills in the morning mist, it was always so…serene. I ventured far and atop every mountain I could find. This was the most peaceful place I found myself in. Yet, someone still had to find me. Be it the occasional courting werewolf, following me around everywhere, or a hunter. My demise…

And I don’t remember where this was. It might have been some other place in Europe. London, maybe. Or maybe somewhere in the country, surrounded by woods and mines and railroads. I was living in this village-like place for a while, very dark, very eerie. They were much less advanced than my time elsewhere, still using torches and and oil lanterns and such devices like that. The hunters here were plentiful, unfortunately. So angry, aggressive, violent. They played dirty. I think this was the earliest place I remember being. Then, traveling to a place similar to Louisiana.

I wasn’t always alone, though. There were always a couple of other werebeasts nearby, either locals, or I was followed by courting males. I never came across any females, though. Strange. This one werebeast though, he was different. I felt a special connection to him. I don’t know if we ever became mates, but he was just always there, with me. As if he were protecting me, as if he were my guardian.

Agh, enough outta me. There’s still much more to share about my life as this werebeast, but I feel this is good for now. Ciao~

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