Moon, Blood, and Wolf's Bane: Kismet

Rex was worried. He had smelled blood and other... other of those creatures last night, as he padded his way back to his small apartment late at night after a good run. He smelled others too, not just blood but other weres. He didn't like it, not one bit. At first, he had hoped they'd pass like the last one.. but more seemed to be coming and he plain didn't like it. Maybe he should meet them, tell them they weren't welcome here in this little town, they were outsiders and they were intruding on his little haven for the past twenty or so years. Then what? Ask politely to leave to some other town? That wasn't their way- he knew from that meet so long ago when he was just a yawning pup.

"Chilisteak light with Extra Border and a side of Slaw, coming up!"

His head jerked up suddenly. Oh wait, that was his table! The male looked around for a moment and grabbed his tray, carefully placing the bowls on the scratched and worn metal. He never understood cooks, they practically spoke their own language but he never complained, none of the waiters did here. The cooks were good, especially that stranger on the burgers now. Once or twice the were had been able to smell something off on him, but in the scent of food and humans and drinks he had always assumed it was some odd cologne. He had never even gotten that stranger's name. Maybe one day he should introduce himself, but the man seemed so gruff and sometimes, he glared down at his burgers like some predator... scary... Rex surely didn't want such eyes placed on him.

Oh, right! His order!

He waited a moment with the food in one hand, glancing over at his table. He only wandered over to his table when his food was at the proper temperature to be eaten immediately, never a moment before. The two women he was serving chatted idly about this and that, probably gossip. Gossip, after all, got around quickly in such a small town. Rex tried his best to give his happiest smile to the ladies, placing down the food as softly as his nimble fingers allowed. "Hey, can we get another of those cheese fries? Do you know when the soup is coming? Oh, and can we get some more soda? Sorry, you must be swamped..."

Another charismatic, lopsided grin, showing teeth with lips curved upwards in a relaxed smile. A lifetime of practice as furry companion to an aging lady who had no one else. "No no! It's my pleasure to serve such fine girls. I'll ask the cook right away. " Rex turned and wandered to the back once more, making sure to introduce himself to a middle aged man who came here at least once a day for whatever mealtime it was. "Hello George, shall you be having the same?" The man only muttered something in reply, in which Rex's hearing picked up as an a-ok. Quickly writing down the order, he walked back with his tray tucked neatly under his arm, as professional as could be in a mid-range restaurant like this- but it was the best in the town! (Not that that meant anything, really...)

"George is ordering the usual, burger with side of slaw, extra everything! We got another order of fries with cheese top and when is that soup coming? Some ladies are getting impatient!" Rex called, as casual as he could to the man still watching the burgers cook with that violent and faraway look.
 
Suddenly Sollux stood, lifting a well-mauled bag up, obviously intending in sling it over his shoulder, then he had a spontaeneous change of heart and dropped it by Owen's chair. Blue-green eyes met with amber for an instant, before the other man looked away, as if his name had been called by the wind in the trees outside, a shadowing of sadness and duty on his face.

"Look after that for me, there's something I need to do. I'll meet you outside in ten minutes." His words were quickly spoken and to the point, almost orders and Owen felt that his nod of aquiescence was redundant - the man had no doubt his request was to be obeyed. Owen got a sudden wave of suspicion that the wolf that just exited the diner was - or certainly had been at one time or another - the Alpha in his pack. Thoughtful, Owen assumed that his more wolfish instincts were the ones that warned him to back down when he had first met Sollux, but it had also been the aggression of a beast that had arose within him in the first place. He sincerely hoped that when - if, his mind amended - he was accepted into the Glendon pack, it would give him stability over these feelings. He needed to learn his place in a pack first and act accordingly before he could ever feel truly at home there.

Humming softly to The Kooks' song he had thought of earlier, Owen remembered the bag at his feet. He glanced down at the straps, looped across the floor, and saw them both ripped and frayed - by teeth, he suddenly realised with a cold shiver. One was in a marginally better state than the other, but the whole bag was rather beaten up. Well-used, he amended. Glancing around, more out of habit when his wolf was feeling rampant than from any real suspicion. The bag obviously didn't contain anything valuable, why would Sollux have left it with him if it did? Nevertheless, Owen was mildly wary as he toed it open. He didn't quite know what to expect and briefly he wondered if the more morbid part of him was expecting a leg of moose or something, raw and ripped by wolf's teeth closing for the kill. He frowned. Was meeting a real live, active wolf disturbing him that much that he suspected Sollux of carrying around last night's dinner in a bag? The material wasn't even blood-stained. Then again, with a set of crumpled dirty clothes in it, he wasn't surprised about the lack of blood. A bag of spare clothes then. Yes, Owen had realised after his first... change that clothes didn't change with you, like they sometimes did in stories. No, it was just the flesh that changed, and Owen had lost quite a nice shirt from changing so hastily. And he had thought there was only one situation you literally ripped your clothes off to get naked for - or at least Anna had always liked it that way, he thought with a pang of memory that felt like searing rain.

Tearing him from his sudden onslaught of thoughts and sensations, a wolf's howl cut like a hot knife through the soft butter of the evening. Owen had howled himself before and he had heard howls, but he had never heard one like this. Long, low and heart-wrenchingly sad, it's rising and falling notes spoke of great struggle, despair, loneliness - Owen felt a chord strike within him at that - and then, miraculously, at the end it rose beautifully and something blossomed deep in the Irishman's chest like a young bird - hope. Then there was a pause, and it began again, the same haunting melody of the night, the moon and what had gone before to kindle the song. Owen would have been content to sit and listen - he began to detect subtle differences between each howl, as if they had all been personalised for different people - but he remembered his promise to Sollux. I'll meet you outside in ten minutes. Getting up, Owen hung the man's bag over one shoulder, grabbed his purchased cans in one hand and the chocolate and various sweets in the other and headed outside, the cold suddenly catching him unawares once more - Canada, he scolded himself again. He crunched round the gravel car park to the truck and wondered whether or not Sollux meant outside in the truck or literally just outside, but then just shrugged and got in anyway, starting up the engine and the heater. He stored the cans and snacks behind his seat, putting Sollux's back on the passenger seat then blowing hot air into his cupped hands. Eventually the heater began to kick in and the inside of the pickup thawed. Glancing out of the window beside him, past the ghostly reflection of a familiar Irishman, he could make out the edge of a dark forest, with the lighter path, then the single bright street lamp that illuminated some of the car park. Sollux hadn't yet materialised.

Listening intently, Owen still caught the tail end of a howl, and eagerly awaited the next, but it didn't come. Suddenly, the faint sound of crunching footsteps could be heard and Owen's mind fitted two and two together between blinks. It was Sollux. He had been howling. The sheer emotion in the song pierced him afresh. What had the wolf lost? He wondered absently, but didn't press it. Whatever it was, it had meant a lot to the mysterious man. It must have done to have created a melody that sharp, that affecting it was as if Owen's very soul had twisted in sympathy for the poor creature. Tearing his mind away, Owen tried his best not to dwell, it would do him no good on the road. Sighing with renewed joy that he was alive and well, he leaned back and relaxed into the seat of the pickup, patiently awaiting Sollux's eventual arrival. He would give the wolf all the time he needed.
 
Parker himself was an early riser. That was a habit left unbroken ever since his days as a farm boy. Wake up early, go to bed early; those were his preferred schedules. Some nights, he liked to stay awake longer to admire the moon. As a wolf, he couldn't help that. They were made to be creatures of the night, after all. Even though he heard Sean sneaking out, he didn't make a dash for him or let it be known he was already waking up. His lover didn't need him asking where he was going all the time! Besides, someone needed to stay with Aidyn.

With a mighty yawn, he stretched out his arms while rolling to his side, only to turn onto his back again once his muscles felt awake. Beside him, Aidyn was sleeping with his plus rabbit in his arms. He did begin to stir, probably about to wake up himself, but fought against it with a grouchy grunt and a roll over to his other side. Parker chuckled quietly at the sight.

After a gentle, affectionate squeeze to the boy's arm, he stood up from their mess of blankets to walk to the living room. Furniture would be arriving soon; he tried to picture how everything would look. Much homier, for sure. Having no clue what the furniture would look like, it wasn't easy to imagine.

"Should watch for that truck. And Sean, when he gets back," he said to himself, smiling on his way to the porch. There were no chairs yet, however he was perfectly fine with sitting on the painted wood.
 
[size=+1]From the tree line, I watch the encounter between Zack and the other werewolf. When his attacker gets Zack my the shoulder I almost step in... but I have under-estimated my companion; he turns the tables on the other werewolf and, shifting into his werewolf form, launches a furious attack upon his enemy. For a moment, my eyes fail to register precisely what I am seeing but the reality quickly sets in; Zack's form has a second mouth across it's chest, which tears into the other with terribly ferocity. My companion's foe doesn't stand a chance; he tears him apart.

As he snatches up his clothing after retrieving his blade and taking his human form again, his eyes fall upon me and narrow.
“Get inside,” he mutters, motioning to the truck, “We're leaving.”

I wander back to the vehicle meekly, not wanting to cause any more trouble. My mind is still reeling from the battle I've just witnessed, the first werewolf and werewolf fight I have seen. The speed the combatants move at, the brutality of the attacks they land on each other... it's both unnerving and exhilarating. We get into the truck in silence, Zack once again at the wheel, and drive off back towards the road that leads to Glendon.

For a good fifteen minutes we sit in silence, Zack either too hurt or too irritated to say anything. The wound on his shoulder looks painful, but if it's causing him any discomfort he doesn't show it at all. Once again I find myself impressed by my stoic travelling companion... even if I get the impression he's rather annoyed at me right now.

My mind remains abuzz; I have so many questions I'd like to ask Zack just now, but none of them seem to be appropriate given the circumstances. Finally, I decide on the one that I feel works best.

“Did he deserve it?”
[/size]
 
Sara was silent for a few moments. Jason was doing what she wished she could have done. Cold hard vengeance. Murdering every last bastard that harmed her pack, and most especially her sister. But there was a line that had to be drawn between what was wished for and what was important. Sara chose to protect the ones that were still alive.

She finally released a breath. Running a hands through her hair and shaking it in a frustrated, but not too exasperated sigh. "Just think next time. We're taking a really big risk collecting in one place like this again. We can't do anything that draws attention to us."

Sara stepped away from him, crossing the room to a table drawer. She opened it up pulling out a few sheets of paper. When she returned she handed them over to Jason. "Here. Pick one. ...They're houses. If anyone else shacks up here Grace is going to have my hide, so you'll have to stay somewhere else."

"...you look like shit, by the way. Sleep. Eat. Or something."
 
As the two stood in their brief silence he had made his way toward the nearest wall, leaning against it to reduce the effort needed to stay completely upright. Sleep was not a luxury he had allowed himself since crossing the border into Canada more than three days ago. But he sensed something in Saraliya as they continued to linger around her after saying his piece. Now it felt as though her attitude had indeed switched up a bit. Perhaps he had managed to make her a little happier in some way. Could she actually be letting him stay here in town spite of the anger he had seen just seconds ago?

Glancing at the papers, he wondered just how much influence she had in this town.

Then, as though some sort of haze had left his mind, the were looked down at himself. From the way he started to really examine himself, it was more than likely he had not given his appearance any thought for quite some time. Vengeance had outweighed vanity or even just casual hygiene for quite some time. Embarassing really. . . though it certainly showed the amount of sheer dedication that had gone into his vow. Blinding himself to everything but the trail which would lead to the next kill.

Looking over at the alpha, to him it appeared as though she had not aged a day in five years. She still looked like there was plenty of power and pride underneath that skin. Even her beauty remained despite all the tragedy their pack had endured. What was left of their pack anyway. Once he worked up the words to speak again, he tried to compliment her at least a little bit using what he saw as the truth. After all, she had been brutally honest about the way he appeared right now.

"You still look the same. Like you could kiss and kill at the same time."

A decent half a minute went by in case she said snything back before he finally said what he had been wanting to say since realizing just how bad he smelled let alone how he probably looked. That needed to change before he let it get any more unbearable. Otherwise he wouldn't fit in long enough to get any real rest or even a bite to eat.

"Could I. . . use your bathroom? Just so I can clean up and stop stinking up the place."

There's no way she'll let me stay in town if I don't clean up. If she really even wants me here. Maybe I should just leave her and this new pack be.

He paused for a moment, upon realizing that she might just want him out of the house ASAP. Willingness to put up with him did not always mean hospitality was open as well. Clothes would probably be essential too. New ones that didn't look like they belonged to a vagrant. . . or a murderer that could become a real monster. That might be too much to ask of someone who might just want this bloody remnant of her past out of her life.

". . .Unless you can't afford to have someone like me in town. I can leave town if you want, Sara. I'll understand."
 
Remmi still hadn't heard from Sara, perhaps her phone was off. It didn't matter she was still going to see her. Remmi put out her cigarette and licked her lips as she finished getting dressed. Her pants here rolled up to her knees, her red shirt only had one sleeve; which made it nice and airy while still fitting her form. She left her hair down flowing freely to her waist. It had gotten really long in the past five years.

When she stepped out of her hotel room there was a familiar smell, covered in blood. Jason.. he was alive. She didn't smell Nat so she didn't hold her hope on that. She followed the scent through the city and eventually wound up at a house, Sara's house. They had just gone inside when Remmi had gotten there and left the door open.

Shaking her head Remmi stood in the door quietly listening, for a moment, hearing what Jason had to say. "You know Jason, if she wanted you gone you wouldn't know where this place was." She looked at him and bit her lip as she guessed that he was thinking of running, something about him seemed on edge. "We belong here with this pack, Jason. We all lost people don't ruin their memories by being something that they wouldn't want you to be." His smell was offensive, but she would tell him what she wished she knew a long time ago when her family died. "You aren't alone and you aren't a one man army." She offered him a half smile but the sadness and despair was there in her eyes. She knew what he felt like but this time she was not going to let it run her life.

"Sara, I'll be outside." She said as the left closing the door behind her. Remmi hoped that Jason would understand what she told him, but she didn't think that it would really help. He would be like everyone else and do what he thought was right. Remmi sat on the porch steps and stared out at the yard full of children toys. What a nice quiet home they had here. Remmis only hope was that this one would last.
 
[size=+2]Zack[/size]

Zack was certainly angry. Angry that Alex had seen his little Evolution. Something he wanted to keep in the dark, and use a a trump card, but now that the kid knew about it... would it still be effective.

“Did he deserve it?”

Remaining silent a few minutes, Zack glanced at Alex through the corner of his eye, and lit another cigarette, then holding lighter to his shoulder to slowly cauterize the bite marks left by Daven's attack. "I think so." Zack answered bluntly, and then rested his other arm out the window. "He had a hand in that facility you, and I were at. I think that makes his death kosher in your mind, don't it?" Zack said with the idea that Alex wouldn't complain with the knowledge that the other Were had been involved with their captivity. Seeing Alex begin to ask another question, Zack cuts him off "Don't ask about it... I don't know how, or why.... just that I ain't just a Were anymore... and if you mention it to anyone..." trailing off Alex would know that Zack meant to make good on that if it happened.

"Glendon's three hours away now." Zack murmured as they buzzed by a highway sign. "Looking forward to having a new home?" The first question that Zack had really asked the other Were since their escape. The way he said 'home' seemed to have been said with a light coating of sarcasm. "Sara's not going to be an easy sell, so you're going to have to impress her, and learn the ropes real quick." Then rubbing his forehead slightly, Zack sighed heavily.

"You going to make your way alright when we get there?" The question hinted at separation.









 
Basha was the only cook in the kitchen, a hazard of faulty hiring, and was having trouble keeping up with the orders. The new influx of visitors and residents to the small town had certainly not helped, but Basha wouldn't complain. A few undercooked or overcooked burgers was nothing compared to who he'd been before, where he'd been. Service seemed the most potent therapy for his level of savagery in the before and so the more busy he was, the less time he had to dwell.

When Rex stopped by to give his order, Basha leaned out of the kitchen, corona of tangled hair framing a bright smile. "Packed to the rafters today, boy, wish I had some help in the back to keep up with demand." Rex was not neccesarily a new face, but at least as new as his own. Sometimes he thought he could smell the Wolf on him, but immersed in the kitchen, his nose was hardly required to be precise. Nevertheless, the young fellow had spirit and that in itself was admirable. In such a small town, most people might go through the motions of being a waiter. Certainly a lot of Rex's coworkers verified that theory. Rex never wilted, never did less than his best, and for Basha that was enough to hold the boy in high respect.

"Rex, mind if I ask a favor?" Retreating back into the kitchen, Basha ladled Broccoli soup into a bowel and set it on a plate. Sliding it onto the counter, he scooped some fries onto a plate and drizzled cheese across them, covering their golden backs with yellow. Pushing both to Rex and starting on George's burger, Basha caught the server's eye and winked.

"Mind staying after hours and helping me clean up a bit in here?" Ordinarily Basha would have handled it himself, not really a man to ask for assistance. Rex, however, had earned enough of the old wolf's interest to at least talk to the boy, hash out why he was here of all places...he was too young to be running.

"There's something in it for ya if you say," the wolf assured, turning his head to watch the grease sizzle on the grill, "And I could use the company."

In some ways, Rex reminded Basha of other wolves...eager pups with the world behind their back and feet still smelling of new earth. They came to the Council looking for work, for purpose, for glory. Basha liked to think he had given them that, and although bloody, that they had appreciated him while he served. Nowadays older wolves than he commanded packs to consume packs, old laws more important than the agenda of the growing packs.

Did they suspect rebellion? They must, and certainly Basha would return if such a war came to their laps. The Council was old, a dying relic of different times. Humans ruled the earth now, their metal claws digging out the forests and plowing over sacred grounds for convenience stores. It was easier, perhaps, to learn about them and perhaps even live with them...learn to coexist rather than fight a losing war for nothing more than continued blood shed.

Shaking his head, Basha flipped the burger, catching just a hint of wolf from Rex as he moved away.

Perhaps he was one of them, the new generation of pups to nip the heels of their elders.

Or eat them in their beds.

The thought only brought a grin, the idea of younger wolves challenging him still some of his fondest memories. Let the pups come, let them try to grasp the future in their fumbling paws. He may not be an acting Council member any longer, but he certainly wouldn't bare his throat to a few upstarts with visions of utopia and new orders.

He had killed too much to allow it so easily.

No, if there was to be a new era...it would only come at the price of his life. He had fought for his own, and they would fight for theirs. In the end, the oldest tradition of Wolves was violence.

And no one could overturn that.
 
"I'm sure Mr. Brown is looking around for some more help in the kitchen. There aren't many cooks around, most kids leave for the big city y'know. I don't know if having a fresh face in this kitchen would help or harm, really. "

Simple talk, really.

Rex was about to turn around and leave when the stranger called his name and asked for a favor, to clean. Well, the day was pretty busy... Though he found the request odd, he found it fit to his plans directly. Works fine for him. He was about to bark his agreement but managed to keep it down. No one must know of his secret, especially not frightening strangers. Who knows what would happen if people found out. Though he liked the people in this city, humans were unpredictable. He learned that early on in life, in his puppyhood. People who were his friends one day would turn into cruel creatures who would throw rocks and poke him with stones, things that would end up with him wimpering on the ankles of his late mistress as she yelled boys away from her property and her beloved pup. Those were such pleasant days, full of affection and sunshine. He would take the trip down memory lane later, during his nightly run on the outskirts of town. This waiter had hungry patrons to feed! "Yeah, sure, I'll meet with you when I lock up shop for the day." He flashed his smile as he lifted the food with careful precision and laid them on his tray with the care of a mother animal to her offspring. He personally disliked human food. As a pup he would eat it when he was offered it, knowing his mistress liked to 'treat' him, but he never found the enjoyment of cheese and fried anything. Neither did he understand how anyone could like broccoli and other disgusting vegetables.

"There you are, ladies. I hope you enjoy." The smile again, relaxed and open as if all was right in the world.

-----

As the last customer left, Rex allowed himself to finally relax. Sitting on a chair, he sighed and undid his tie and unbuttoned his vest. Afterwards, he went about to wipe the tables and make sure the chairs were all set up for the night. Finally, he peeked into the kitchen to see if he had some dishes to do or something similar. "So, Basha right? Odd name, where'd you get it? Anyways, what do you need me to do?"
 
Ethan was pretty pleased when he made it to the bank. It seemed that his workers had everything under control and everything was running smoothly. With a smile he headed back to his office in the back of the small branch building where he could monitor everything going on. He wondered if he would see any of the new wolves that had come into town ever step foot into his bank, maybe they'd need a loan or something of the sort. He chuckled realizing that Remmi was one of those new wolves.

His hand dipped into his pocket and he retrieved his cell phone to look for the number he had received for the girl. I think I should call her...I wonder if she would like me to call her...ah well, I guess it couldn't hurt. He nodded, reassuring himself as he dialed the number for Remmi's phone. "Eh Bonjour? Remmi? C'est moi, Ethan. I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch later today at the diner downtown? My treat?" He spoke to the phone, not knowing if he'd gotten her voicemail or actually her.


Sean had wandered about town for a little while before stumbling on one of the quiet diners. By now it was probably too late to get breakfast for him and the boys but maybe he could pick up some lunch. He looked at his watch and groaned, the moving truck was probably already there and he was hoping that he wasn't leaving Parker and Aidyn with all the hard work. He chuckled when he realized the two boys would probably be off playing with the moving truck just sitting there and the workers at a loss as to where everything was put.

Ignoring the nagging inner voice about the boys not doing anything he opened the door and stepped inside the diner and walked up to the counter where he hoped he could place his order. When the waitress stepped over and smiled meekly, "Excuse me, are you still serving breakfast and if you are, do you have donuts available? If not may I see a menu? You do have to go boxes right?" Sean was worried that he was going to come off as a pompous city man now that he had returned to a quiet country town, when the waitress went off to ask the chef or possibly to grab him a menu he pulled his phone out and texted Parker back home. Out getting breakfast, just make sure the movers put the beds in the bedroom and I'll try to be home soon. was what he typed on his phone before putting it away and waiting for the waitress. Maybe he'd run into someone from the old pack while he waited, that would be nice to see an old friend. He wondered if news about him and Parker and their new son had reached the ears of the other wolves.
 
First light was creeping over the hills, thin fingers of sun jabbing through the canopy of straggly trees. All traces of a cool, crisp dawn were smothered by the thick, rank odor of the long dead. Other creatures had already begun to feast on the remains, scattering bones that were gnawed and cracked, stripped of all meat. The buzz of the flies was kept muted, the insects kept slow and heavy with the chill air and dew. Their offspring were a little more active, the wriggling clots of white giving a sense of how long ago the living had crossed over.

The encounter had been brutal, the strips and ribbons of flesh grown hardened and black from exposure. Corpses all, so savaged and decayed that it was almost hard to believe they had ever lived. The open display of ruined flesh and bone brought to light the lack of clothing...hinting at exactly what brutal degree the deadly tussle had come down to. Deep claw marks gashed open the trunks of trees but the savaged corpses looked nothing but human in origin. He needed no further convincing.

The earth underfoot crunched as he turned on his heel, taking a shallow breath as he prepared himself for the descent back to the road and his bike. His gaze flicked off to the side, his breath stopping in his throat as something caught his eye. Carefully stepping over loose stones he made his way over to it, the little ragged scrap of cloth on the ground. Using his index finger and thumb he gently peeled it free from the mud and held it before his eyes.

Well, they were just making his job easier and easier.

Settling back onto his bike, Jimmy began his journey once more, the cold Canadian air whipping against the skin of his face as he picked up speed. His mouth pressed into a thin line as one name crossed his mind, tying his stomach into a heavy knot.

'Grace.'
 
Sollux emerged from the trees making strait for the paring lot leaving the emotions he had put into the daily ritual of mourning behind as his amber eyes cane to rest on Owen. The side of his mouth curled into a grin, so he could follow orders, it was a start.

He was still shivering from the cold air against his skin as he pulled the door of the pickup open and getting inside. They had privacy now so he felt he could talk. "You're now from a pack are you?" he asked already knowing the answer. The wanderer was nervous, socially awkward and looked like he was trying to suppress the wolf inside him, and he hadn't seemed to recognize Sollux's name. "You don't need to answer what you think I want to hear, I have no problems with loners, but I do always offer them a place in my pack."
 
Sara's eyerolling at Jason was about to be followed with a casual brush off and a point to the bathroom. Then Remmi announced her presence with one of those ridiculous feel good, movie style speeches and left just as quickly to sit outside. Sara inwardly groaned. Perhaps this was why their pack was such a mess. If it wasn't someone moaning and feeling useless when they shouldn't, it was someone being so blindly idealistic that they didn't see trouble coming.

"...anyway, yeah. Go use the bathroom. Just get out of here before Grace gets home.

Sara stepped passed him and out the front door to join Remmi on the porch. She rubbed the back of her head, casting a look out over the small patches of snow here and there. Toys littering the yard and the houses that were a good safe distance away from the house.

She was silent for a few minutes. Like Jason, Remmi lost people too after they had fled Raymond. All of them had. Now here in Glendon could be their last chance for a safe home. Sara hated the idealism and false hope. ...but she still understood that it was the only thing keeping a few people together.

"I'm glad you made it, Remmi. A lot of people could use a friendly face."
 
For some reason he seemed to barely recognize Remmi. . . or else it was simply a lack of response in his facial features. What she had to say, no doubt his ears heard but how much he listened was debatable. Perhaps he was simply so tired her presence did not even register with him at all. But the way he sniffed the air suggested otherwise. Sara had not treated her the way she treated him. To him it still felt as though his presence in the town would only be that of a nuisance to the others who seemed to want normal lives.

Right now all he still wanted was revenge.

Entering her bathroom, Jason took care to locate the door's lock. Sure if anyone really wanted to get in it wouldn't keep them out but he needed the hollow promise it gave. Privacy was important right now, as he stood before the bathroom sink and stared at himself in the mirror for a good minute. This was what he had allowed himself to become while on the path to revenge. A filthy drifter covered in the blood of others.

He took off the leather jacket which had seen better days and little care.

Turning on the sink, he started to wash the grime and dirt off the skin and out from under the fingernails. Dried blood came out as well as everything started to resemble the hands that once mixed drinks and served them in a bar. Memories of that started to come back in tiny trickles. . . how he could listen to everyone's problems and try to solve them without violence. Back then he went out of his way to avoid transforming unless it was absolutely necessary. Oh how that had all changed. Guilt used to get in the way of the true nature hidden inside that had spent the past five years clawing it's way free.

Anger briefly took hold on the outside in the form of a clenched fist. Claws started to grow from it as tremors spread throughout his entire body. Fur grew out so fast one would have thought it had always been there. Both eyes were closed as the sound of clothes starting to rip snapped him out of it. Panting from a mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline, Jason brought himself back under control. Wrecking Saraliya's bathroom would not gain him any favors.

Now he took off the eyepatch to wash his face off, using more soap than he had for his hands. Lathering up what felt like watered down dish soap on his face, the stubble bristled against the palms of his hands. Some time he might want to shave that. . . though it wouldn't matter if he transformed. Washing it all away, water that had blackened circled the drain as he now looked at himself in the mirror. Jason saw that he truly had reaped what five years of revenge and grief had sewn. Might his bloodlust be sated when the final murderer breathed their last breath?

After toweling off his face he quickly tied the eye patch back on, put on the leather jacket, left the bathroom, and slowly trudged back toward the front door.
 
The sound of the car door clunking open made Owen jump a little, but he suppressed it and smiled at the other man. He noticed the cold tremors and wondered whether to offer a jacket or not, whether the wolf might see it as a sign of weakness. Sollux licked cold-chapped lips and spoke, his voice filling the silence in the close cab.
"You're not from a pack are you?" he asked, but the cool certainty in those unusual eyes told Owen he didn't even have to answer. He opened his mouth, about to say something, though he wasn't quite sure what, but the other man spoke again. "You don't need to answer what you think I want to hear, I have no problems with loners," Owen found himself relaxing as Sollux paused, seemingly before taking the plunge to do something important. "But I do always offer them a place in my pack." Owen felt a mixture of feelings run through him at Sollux's offer. Firstly a blossoming of something light and freeing - hope or acceptance or joy to have found some sort of place - but it was short-lived as a great rumble of dominance came snarling up from somewhere deep in him. That part noticed the not-so-subtle emphasis on the my, the possession. Sollux wouldn't have any opposition. At once Owen sensed that he was on a knife edge. Say yes, and he would have to submit, submit completely to this near stranger. Say no... Owen pondered for a long moment, hyperaware of the silence filling the cabin and the steely expectant look in Sollux's eyes. Saying no would turn down a world of oppurtunities to learn... and he needed to learn. He didn't have enough knowledge, experience or fight in him right now to dominate a pack of his own, and other than Sollux, what other wolves did he know? He took in the man's wardrobe-build once more, frowning slightly. He did not want this man as an enemy, and he had a feeling that it was an enemy this man would be if Owen said no. Butterflies abruptly battering his stomach, he took a deep breath, opened his mouth and- "Yes."
He didn't know whether it was his heightened senses or the sudden adrenaline rush or what, but his suddenly smelt a great aura of satisfaction come from the man beside him. It was only after that scent that he noticed the self-satisfied half-smirk on his face. Abruptly he was a little wary. What on earth had he just agreed to? Wolf culture was different to humans, what if he had just consented to some lifelong commitment of absolute loyalty? He just didn't know. Suppressing a suddenl urge to panic, he spoke reasonably calmly.
"Your pack - how many are there?" He cursed internally when his voice caught, just a little, on the word many. It betrayed Owen's nervousness about being accepted completely. Sure, Sollux liked him, though the sense that the man had an ulteriour motive that Owen didn't know unsettled him considerably, but that couldn't be helped. The man wasn't just going to spill his life secrets just because they were sharing a ride. Pack implied more than a group of two... Owen was torn. He didn't know how to behave with other wolves... how would he cope with an entire new pack??
 
Sollux smiled. "Four. But for now just us." despite relaxing after Owen's answer he was still apprehensive about telling Owen too much and it showed in his hesitation. "You've probably guessed I'm going to Glendon for reasons other than the simple fact that theres wolves there. Theres three in particular I'm hoping to find there. My mate, my son, and the runt who took them." the flash of anger he felt thinking about Rion turned his voice into a growl as he clenched his fists and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, but that wasn't the only emotion that presented itself. He had failed his pack that night and had been the only one other than Donna and Tavos to survive simply because he hadn't been there during the attack. That was on fact Owen would remain ignorant of.

"Though you're wondering what what you just agreed to." he said turning the subject away from himself towards Owen. "Its simple, so far you've survived alone so I know you can take care of yourself well enough, but in a pack everyone watches their own, and everyone else's backs." his voice was commanding as once again he got control of his emotions. "Once I've rebuilt the pack you'll find your place easily enough."
 
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They smelled. They reeked. They smelled like Mr. Muggles and Princess. Like perfume and soaps and pretty little flowers that weren't meant to exist together. Cloying and heavy and fake. They no longer smelled like the Mother, but more like the Stranger. Some were too far gone, nothing of what they truly were remaining. Some, they were within saving. Some...some...some were even more gone than she was. The pretty smelling ones she hated the most. They smelled like greed and forgetfulness and pretending. Her nose wrinkled as she caught the scent of a group of them together. Her nose wrinkled in distaste as she picked up her pace, intent on getting away as quickly as she could.

She stalked across the yard, more a cat than a woman. Her motions were smooth and sure, her gaze zeroed ahead at some point in the distance. She cared not what boundaries she crossed or rules she broke, the only thing that mattered was the destination. That and getting away from the stink. Her skin crawled beneath her layered clothing, her breath slinking from between her full lips in a thin frosty trail. Was it really that cold? It didn't matter, she couldn't tell anyway. It wasn't really important now...the only thing that was important was...what as it again?

Her pace slowed and stuttered for a moment as her mind clouded, something interrupting her train of thought. The crawling on her skin changed into a prickly feeling. A full breath seized in her throat as a slight inkling of panic began to worry at her. Something was making her lose her focus. Her gaze flicked from left to right warily as her mind sparked to life as she tried to note her location. Her feet kept moving, although at a much slower pace. They couldn't know how she felt right now. She wouldn't let them know. All she knew right now is that something familiar was nearby...and something dangerous was coming.
 
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After standing out of sight for a while, Coco realized that to anyone who could see them, she definitely looked like a creeper. That would be really worrisome to have someone think of her so she quickly stepped forward, her brightest and friendlies smile on her face and hoped that none of them thought that she'd been there just being weird or something.

Coco also began to wave her hand wildly at the mothers and their children. She wanted to be part of this happy family scene, she realized, and if this was how she had to do it, intruding like this... so be it. She looked around the park, noting the lack of people outside of this little group. She might have been safe to just stand there, no one else was here...

"Hi! My name's Coco and I just moved here" she offered unsolicited as she approached.
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Remmi smiled as she saw the number come across her phone, but she decided to not answer it as she heard Sara approaching. "You don't need to lie. I know you aren't really that fond of me. " She had said softly with a smile on her face. "No body really knows me all that well. I was really surprised when you notified me." She was calm and just accepted the truth, as she understood it, with no hard feelings. You can't make people think any differently then they wanted to. Remmi bit her lip beofre she asked her next question. "Are we truly safe Sara, or is this as safe as we can get?"

She pursed her lips as she looked over at her. Honestly her question was irrelevant, Remmi was tired of running. They were the things that went bump in the night and they would always live on edge about the things that bumped back. She had her quite acceptance about the situation and the life they all lived, but there as still a part of her that wanted to hear it from Sara.

Remmi would do what she needed to to keep her pack as safe as she could. Remmi didn't know if it would matter to Sara or not because Sara seemed to be on a one sided war and felt that everything fell on her shoulders. But that was just how Sara was always fighting one thing or another. "So tell me what's the plan, Boss?" If things ever did turn bad Remmi knew that Sara already had a plan, it never hurt to be prepared.