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Post by rowanashke on Jul 12, 2008 10:00:05 GMT -5
Patrick sat on the edge of the well, brooding in the silence of the mist that swirled around his still form. A long day; a longer night. He was tired and edgy and kind of spoiling for a fight, but he was trying to keep his instincts and urgings at bay. Right now, he didn't need to look for trouble. He had an idea that trouble was well on it's way towards him.
He tipped his head back, but he couldn't see the sky, let alone the moon, through the endless mists. He hated nights like this. Paris was such a beautiful city, but when the mists rose, it became something else. Something a little dark and frightening. Nights like this belonged to vampires, stalking and hunting their unwitting prey. To monsters that hid in the shadows, growling.
Not that he wasn't a monster too, at times...
He sighed and lowered his head, his eyes half-closing. So very tired. He was close to calling it a night and heading for home, but something kept him where he was. That same restlessness that had driven him here to begin with, probably. Besides, even for him, this was an easy night to get lost in. The swirling mist covered scent; confused the nose and the eye and made navigation difficult. It would be easier to wait. The mists would fade with the coming of the sun.
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Post by keylogger on Jul 12, 2008 10:46:01 GMT -5
“Damn it! The mist f*cking sucks!” Michael said jumping from treetop to treetop. Michael loved the Paris nights, but on the other hand he hated the mist nights of Paris. He jumped clawing one other tree as he latches on. Jump! Clawing a second tree as he latched on.
He couldn’t really smell the food that he was hunting. That made him really hate the mist. But what’s that? He smelled a human up ahead. He jumped down right in front of Patrick. “Weird place to sleep now isn’t it?” Michael asked Patrick. He sniffed the air, it wasn’t a human it was a were.
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Post by rowanashke on Jul 12, 2008 12:54:28 GMT -5
Patrick was a little startled as the other were came down from the trees-stupid mist, he hadn't smelled him coming. Giving the younger man a quick glance, he raised his eyebrows, his face blandly amused.
"Not sleeping." he said quietly. "Just waiting for the mist to spin away so I can get home."
He studied the other were swiftly, probingly. "You're not from around here." he said suddenly. He wasn't pack, that much was for sure. He wasn't alpha either; Patrick's nose twitched. Something between. Something...waiting. "What brings you out on this misty night?"
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Post by keylogger on Jul 12, 2008 22:33:24 GMT -5
“Hunting. I always hunt, just about every night. Never have money for anything. So what brings you out here?” Michael said. He smelled the air again. Yep he was a werewolf. Finally not a betraying vampire. He will always hate the evils of the Vampire Coven. He will see the downfall for all of its members. And he will enjoy every moment of it. He looked around. He couldn’t smell or see any animal out here so far. What a bad nigh of hunting.
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Post by rowanashke on Jul 12, 2008 23:36:02 GMT -5
"Hmm." Patrick said, shifting a little. "Just wandering." He shrugged, his eyes resting thoughtfully on the younger man. "You hungry?" he asked suddenly.
It sounded like a rather impulsive question, and in a way it was. But Patrick wasn't the kind to let another werewolf suffer; he didn't care if the other was pack or not. He felt a duty to protect all of his brothers and sisters, wether they wanted it or not.
"My house isn't that far from here." He said, raising his eyebrows. "And if you don't have a place to crash, there's space. There's usually several strays running around." He grinned; he often offered his house up for loose werewolves. Some of them stayed and became pack; some of them took his generosity and then wandered off. He never begrudged them; they were all looking for something, after all.
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Post by keylogger3 on Jul 12, 2008 23:45:33 GMT -5
“Yeah, I could use a place to crash and have some food to eat. Thanks for offering.” Michael said. He stretched out is arms by raising them up high. Then he yawned. He was tired. He never seemed to find a good place to sleep out in the wilderness. But a couple of times he found some old mattresses to sleep on here and there. He also would like some normal food to eat here and there. He seemed to like this guy.
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Post by rowanashke on Jul 12, 2008 23:55:26 GMT -5
Patrick smiled; he liked bringing in strays. It made him feel like he was contributing something. "Alright then. I think I can get us there dispite this damn fog..." He squinted at the street sign, then nodded. "Follow me...stay close. On a night like this, it's too easy to be ambushed...we'll never smell them coming."
His voice was low and tense; that's what he hated the most about cold Londen fog. The way it masked scents; he'd not noticed the other werewolf approaching..."My name's Patrick, by the way." he said, standing. "Patrick Smith. Come, follow me."
He offered the younger were a quick smile, meant to be reassuring, and sniffed the air with a sigh. Smells like dirt, water and smog.
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Post by keylogger on Jul 13, 2008 11:47:05 GMT -5
“My name is Michael, Michael Lee.” Michael said. He followed Patrick threw the thick fog. It was a nice night, if it wasn’t for the god damn forsaken fog. He always hated how the fog clouded up his senses. He could never really tell what was waiting around the corner. And for a guy like Michael, that sucked in the highest levels. But he kept up the past with Patrick anyway.
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Post by rowanashke on Jul 14, 2008 1:20:35 GMT -5
Patrick led the way through the fog, relying on purely human senses to keep them both safe. When he reached his house, he pushed the door open, sniffing cautiously at the scents in the house. "Good...it's clear. And there's no one here right now..."
He frowned, a bit concerned about that. Stepping inside, he kicked his shoes off, then stretched, glancing around at his immaculately clean living room. "There's rooms upstairs; I usually have between one and four visitors, plus the few that live here permanently. You said you were hungry...let me see what the hooligans left in my fridge."
He grinned and padded over, pulling the refridgerator open. "You thirsty? I've got water, milk and juice. I can make tea. I dont' keep alchohol in the house; sorry. Some of the pack and the strays are underage and rather stupid."
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