Insha'Allah ::Sombra Delgadillo::

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

The rush of dusk's light, caused a yellowish sheen to appear over oculars that gave the passing glance to the sound of a birds fluttering wings. The birds knew he was around, it was not as though he was attempting to hide yet none of the bulging city pigeons seemed to care. They knew Josef was no threat. Laying in a semi circle, his nose tucked under his rear leg his ears flicked about to each new sound that dared intrude on the sensitive extremities. Perked up, the whipped side to side picking picking up the passing conversations of people who passed close by, the obvious sounds of the birds and even the heaving panting of other canines that were brought through the park by their handlers, the domesticated version of what Abad was. These mutts knew there was something around, a dangerous entity that threw them into a chaotic whimpering hysteria. Most dogs jerked on their chains and leashes, refusing to come near the area Abad lay.

Sunset in Central Park was the perfect time of night. The day was winding down, most people were heading home and the majority of the park would darken. New York City was dangerous, especially at night. It was this specific time of day in which the drones of tourists kept to the more well lit, more well known aspects of the city. There were some areas of the park that were well lit, that offered some sense of security but for the most, Central Park was not a place to be at night. He felt the temperature cooling gradually, his muscles tensing slightly to warm the skin and force the majority of his coat down. It had been... peaceful for the most part. Days such as this. He'd arrived some time earlier, shifted into his wolvin form and quietly found a place to rest.

This was also a subtle way of leaving his scent, his wolvin markings behind to tell all who trespassed through the city that New York was his territory. He was the Alpha here. With a harsh snort of his hidden nose, Abad let out a slight tension. His pack was vanishing. He had... two wolves left. Himself and Enda Aherin. There were other wolves in New York City, wolves who's presence he tolerated and knew the rules. His rules. Yet his former Mate, her buddy and Melanie Mercer all vanished. They were not the only ones though. Mike had vanished along with his sister. Mercer had been Abads Beta. His pack had been the target of systematic Vampire attacks over recent months and odds were the others bolted for safety. Josef, however, held an old school mentality. He would not roll over, for anyone. He held no ill regard to those who abandoned him, well maybe just a little, but just as they had their reasons for leaving... he had his reasons for staying.

Unlike most Were's who seemed to have solid colored coats of all white, all black, all gray or all brown, Josef was more... recognizable. His coat came off as a symbol of being a mutt. the bottom of his body from his chin to his underbelly and to the underside of his tail was white while his sides, legs, back, head, and top half of his tail were mixtures or grey, silver and brown. He was not as... beautiful... as other wolves but he was proud of who he was. Still he was stronger than most, he knew it and those within New York recognized it. The Syrian was raised to be a survivor, to accomplish his own goals at any and all costs.

His pack was vanishing, he held no Mate. What was an wolf suppose to do? What was a Syrian suppose to do? What was an Alpha suppose to do? The same thing he did every time life messed with him.

Start over.

Slowly the wolf pulled his nose free, yawned while letting out a relieved, stretching yelp. The muscles throughout his face relaxed and his eyes, as brown as oak, took in the darkened scenery. His mouth was slightly open, allowing for part of his tongue to hang out. He heard nothing, smelled nothing out of place. It looked as though the coast would be clear. Standing on all fours, he stretched, lowering the top half of his body to the ground and pulling back and another relaxed yelp escaped his lips.

[*sombra delgadillo]

New York was a strange place to have woken up in, and Sombra had woken up in strange scenarios. Cairo had taken some getting used to but now she was well adjusted to waking up practically drowning in sand and heat. However, the wailing of car horns and screeching of tires was not something she would likely become accustomed to. Not ever. It was one of those mornings, the ones that almost made her sad to have survived the obvious mayhem she had brought on herself the night before. No, it was never a question of drinking. Sombra’s wolf was a beast.

A monster whose rage and feral nature was the dominating force in the otherwise quite tolerable woman. Granted, her past had made her human mistrustful, callused and a bit disillusioned as far as the world was concerned. Sometimes she liked to euphemize the things that had happened to her, wishing that she could justify their occurrence with some sort of reason or divine purpose but she could never quite get to the point of believing that any God would allow such a thing to happen. Yet there was always that quiet knowledge that this universe would not exist without the help of some overseer. The Big Bang Theory was the concoction of a few scientists experimenting with something called crack.

Stretching amidst the fallen leaves and undergrowth she had doubtlessly collapsed in sometime in the early morning, a wince manifested itself – okay…something was broken. She wasn’t surprised, in fact she would have been more surprised if all was well in her body. Tentatively now, she flexed first on leg, then the next until she had tested each pillar. The right forepaw was tender to the touch, and there was some irritation in her hindquarters – just pulled muscles. As usual it was her rib cage that had suffered. They were bruised or broken, she didn’t care to know which of the two. And, unbeknownst to her, her right lobe was torn at the tip…marred forever.

It was unlikely that she would care, luckily for her the mutilation would only carry so far into her human form – a barely visible scar on her lobe, paler than her skin and smoother but still well hidden. Her other wounds would heal. It was almost alarming how placid she was about the whole ordeal, one she did not recall but one that the blood on her coat signified as a violent encounter. It always was. She was resigned to this, her silent curse. Though Ms. Delgadillo would never admit the grief it caused her – physically that is. Mentally she was hardened by the wolf so things like this no longer mattered.

She did, however, recall her last waking thought the night before. Sombra had been thinking about her sister, which inevitably lead to thoughts of the Mercers. There was never anything romantic about she and Mike’s relationship, they were childhood friends and he was a reminder of a time when she had been…somewhat…sane. The fact that he had albeit vanished hurt her and she had gone to sleep upset and vulnerable to transformation because of it. The wolf turned and then the festivities had begun.

And now I’m in New York. Frowning, she hauled herself upright with a groan as her muscles protested, and she breathed shallowly, attempting not to upset the already frail injuries in her chest. But in that shallow breath there was the scent of another wolf. It was out of pure morbid curiosity that she thought to approach, the sound of his…whatever that sound was he was making…enough to invoke the idea that perhaps he was the one she had set to brawling the night before. Though the absence of blood on his scent suggested otherwise. Still there was the small possibility that she hadn’t drawn blood…

No there wasn’t.

Her padfalls made little noise, but were much clumsier than usual granted the strained muscles that would not perform as they generally would, lobes upright and prying into the space – listening to the shift of the turf as it seemed his weight had landed altogether. As he came into view, Sombra was taken aback by his appearance. A wolf, obviously, but that was not your everyday canvas. His pelt was jumbled, very much like a child would decorate their coloring book but Sombra withheld the humor in her train of thought. She seated herself, hiding the wince of discomfort as her ribs arced with the act. She did not speak or move otherwise, simply stared with those dark, calculative sapphire irises shadowed

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

His ears perked, the left turning sideways at the sounds of the approaching steps. The body of the wolf tensed as the scent was the next thing to befall him. The forest like musk which gave him memories of shrubs and oak mixed with a wolf's well known natural scent filled his nose. Scents were interesting, each and every wolf, human and vampire had a specific one, a scent that was unique to just them. Abad knew the Wolves of New York and with another whiff of the air, this one was not of his territory. Interesting. He spotted her as she emerged into view. He caught her scent, heard her steps but she had caught sight of him. Turning his position, Ibn-Abad took his side from her line of sight. The most dangerous position a wolf could be in was to have their rear or sides exposed, at least in a face to face meeting, there was less chance of the opposite getting an advantage. His nostrils flared slightly, letting off a huff as it became apparent the Alpha continued to take sniffs of the air, getting as much detail of this wolf as he could. Female but there were traces of another substance, a substance he had not personally tasted in months. Blood. Wild animals could become frenzied with the immediate scent of blood and it was a common issue with many newer wolves. They could not control themselves. Vampires were not the only creatures with a natural blood lust. Whether it was her own or someone elses, Abad could not tell.

Then they both seated... at the same time.

She kept her stare locked on him. He returned it. She was new to his territory and the wolf, normally one to ensure places were known immediately off the bat, held off. Typically he would have approached and expected any new comers in his presence to submit, this one... was different. She was injured. The smell of blood, her limited movement, her demeanor gave it off. Wolves simply could not hide when they were injured, other were's picked it up immediately. Why had he not picked up her scent sooner? Why had he not known a Wolf had been in a fight in his territory? What did this wolf get herself into? Dozens of questions raced through his mind, though no answers came. He didn't care. Whatever happened, it was resolved now. She survived, obviously. It was a testament to her stamina, most importantly though, her skill. She was a survivor and a gutsy one to approach him in her state. Ibn-Abad was the first to stand, rising from his seated position. One paw went forward, though he waited several moments. If she lashed out at his approach, he'd be prepared. Taking several steps he shot his head around, glancing to see if there were any possible threats before closing the distance between them. With a lowered head, he came along her right side, the scent of the blood growing stronger. Some of the blood was not her own, he picked up the scent of another wolf. His nose neared her right shoulder and he took in several rapid sniffs down to her right rear leg.

It had been a while sense he had smelled a female wolf. He learned one thing, scents often told of the beauty of the human form. 'It's been too long sense I smelled radiance.' the thought filled his mind. Her coat, with the exception of the blood was primarily white. Beautiful. Her scent was strong, overpowering and on par with his own. Still she did not submit on his approach. He was impressed. It was here that the Syrian within stepped forth. Too control the more... biological of urges. He was not one who was devout in religious convictions, he just held the majority of moral beliefs. It was an interesting balancing act, the moral beliefs of a Syrian and the natural instincts of a wolf. More often than not, the wolf won out.

Except this time.

He rounded her once, flicking her tail playfully with his snout, his tail momentarily waging. His eyes scanned her body, as if trying to see through her fur and flesh and at the injuries. It shouldn't be much longer until she fully healed, still she was an injured wolf in his domain. Letting out a whimper, he nudged just under her snout, a subtle hint that she should be taking better care of herself. His tail again picked up in excitement, yet still he had to wait to see her interaction with him. He trotted back several steps and took a seating position and waited. Abad approached her first. Josef accepted her in his domain. The least he could do was allow her the opportunity to investigate him.

It was the polite thing to do after all.

[*sombra delgadillo]

If Sombra expected a hostile reception she was about to be surprised. Of course the skeptical wolf was inquisitive, it was both obvious in his gaze and his actions. It was somewhat amusing that they both sat in unison, though her stare was level, unaccommodating and not particularly pleasant, it did not shout dominance…no her posture did that for her. There was no escaping the feral attitude of her wolf, no matter how beaten down Sombra was it simply did not submit to a state that an inferior being would assume. He, obviously, had some claim over this area – his own dominant nature worn openly on his sleeve, so to speak.

She was not surprised as he approached, and did a fair job at remaining composed during his brief inspection, despite the ascendance of the fur aloft her spine which manifested discomfort and partial hostility to the close quarters. At that point he made another turn about her, just in time to connect with the wispy tail at her hind end. This antic induced a click of her incisors as her lobes descended. To be frank, the she-wolf was exhausted, up for most of the night before had taken its toll on her body and now she was in a pressing social situation. Welcome to hell, Ms. Delgadillo.

It didn’t help that she was in a foreign city. The noise was overpowering, obnoxious…irritating. There were seconds of silence where she could get that crawling sensation of being watched, her stare glazed over as she allowed this to continue, much longer than she generally would have. As her jawline was bumped, a quiet snort sounded, an indignant glance slapping to his countenance. It was Josef’s first encounter with the fierce individual. And yes, there were many adjectives for Sombra Delgadillo – fierce included.

He was obviously glad to have someone to interact with, what other reason would he be acting like…such a whelp. Still, there were worse things, she reasoned. And a dominant who didn’t take himself too seriously was an absolute contrast to her own being though…her somber attitude was more for the sake of survival than to denote her superiority. Finally it appeared that his little escapade was finished and Sombra breathed a weathered sigh, lobes descending to press to her skull as her head tipped and she stared down her nostrils at him for a moment. Not exactly the friendliest of faces.

It appeared to be her turn as he sat on his hindquarters once again, though she was inclined not to abandon her state of silent repose she assumed it was best in this instance. Rising with a small sigh, gshe guarded her countenance despite the tightening in her jaw as pain shot through her thorax and her pinions wailed for rest. Moving slowly towards him, wariness was obvious in her gaze though it seemed to hold pedestrian calm at the same time, as if she knew she was prepared to fly at the announcing of danger.

Her pupils had grown narrow, as slits despite the dark they were shrewd, calculative and distrustful. The sweeping ministration of her nostrils first touching his cheek, to the broad width of his neck – deciphering the fibers littered in the thick fur at his nape somewhat inquisitively. Her sniffing meandered down his rib cage, occasionally prodding in curiosity at a particular scent in that area and finished at the lower half of his flank. Her perusal was by far more restrained and almost dutiful. The human in Sombra regarded the whole situation as somewhat awkward and would rather have skipped it, but her wolf was having none of that.

More than anything it quested for some sort of balance. And that started with being ballsy enough to step out of her box. The “expression” on the wolf’s face as she stepped back and resumed her seated position was something akin to a thoughtful frown, far more serious and discerning than the excitable male’s demeanor. Her ribs ached from the exertion already but her shoulders were dead set – absolutely unwilling to show more weakness than was obvious. Though it was quite human of her to be absolutely intrigued by the almost friendly wolf, it was the wolf’s nature to be absolutely rigid in its formality.

Then again, the human was the one who had spent tears on loneliness while the wolf hunted down contestants to spend its angst on – brawling away the emotion left over from the human. Sombra was if anything a difficult case to crack and at this point…one must beg the question, is it even worth cracking?

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

His eyes watched her own, as they had grown to near slits as she approached. He felt the tension illuminating from her like light from a post on Wall Street. His own body became slightly rigid, though he held back restraint. He had not become the Alpha of the New York Territory by coming off as a stony asshole who seemingly bounced off the walls. If anything, Josef Ibn-Abad was cool, calm, and collected. The only times he broke this presence of himself was when his hand was forced. Right now, this wolf had done nothing to draw his ire. She started at his cheek, each exhaled sniff warming the his fur slightly. From the neck and down his rib cage. She prodded areas of other regions as she became familiar with his scent. Just as quickly as she had started, it had ended and she retook her seated position. The ball was once again in his court.

It was time.

As he continued in his seating position, the shift began. Everything seemed to occur at once. His ears began to shrink then round out. His snout sunk into his face, the black nose pointing slightly while the whiskers vanished. His jar line sharpened, his face smoothed out all while his arms and legs expanded and bulged, his back stretched, his ribs reformed and his tail disappeared. The sound of bones popping, becoming displaced and refitting themselves filled his ears. The change could be an extremelly painful experience, especially for new wolves. Abad felt little to none, the only pain that came was when he had been shot and attempted a change in the hospital. It had failed and hurt like nothing before. The last things to change were his toes, which lengthened, the nails thinning and rounding out atop the extremities and finally the fure vanished, all except for a five o'clock shadow that remained upon his face.

Modesty immediately befell Abad, who averted his gaze of the Wolf's glance and went to fetch his clothes. Regardless if she was still in a wolvin form, she was still a female and deserved the same respect that he would have shown any woman. He felt no ill regard momentarily turning his back on an injured wolf, he still deemed her no threat. He slid his dress pants on, followed up by his white t-shirt, then white dress shirt. Sliding on his socks, then black shoes, Josef straitened himself out before finally putting on his white and gray checkered kaffiyeh. Unlike most Syrian men who also used an Igal, otherwise known as cloth cord to hold it into place, Abad wrapped wrapped it around his forehead once, then let it drape down to his shoulders, covering the sides of his face in the process.

Finally he reemerged from the area he had been sleeping, though his clothes were undoubtedly wrinkled. He hated wrinkled clothes on him, it made him look very unprofessional. He re approached the Wolf, and gave her another glance over with his now almond colored eyes. "As-Salamu Alaykum," he has to assume she did not speak Arabic. Most people didn't, "it means Peace be upon you. I am Josef Ibn-Abad. Alpha of this territory." The formalities had to come first, to show respect to her and his own rank. It would have been insulting to the Pack if he did not establish his rank first. He already had ideas on who... really now... had ideas on what she was. Her scent was dominating, she showed no fear and if anything was as gutsy as him in approaching people. She was a dominate but if she was an Alpha herself, that remained to be seen. If she was... was she here to try and claim his territory for her own? Ok so obviously if she wanted to challenge him, she would have done it already. One could not blame Abad for his momentary concerns.

"Hungry?" Abad asked. He gave another glance around. He was not going to expect her to shift yet. She had no reason to trust him and werewolves were tougher in their shifted states. He would not be insulted if she remained in her own. "I can get us some food, if you'd like? Pizza, hotdogs, asian cuisine, Indian... well pretty much anything. I'm sure we both could use a decent bite to eat?"

Hospitality was his weapon. A lot of wolves came off as hostile and yet Abad could not. Upon first interactions, if he was shown respect, he gave it. He acted with kindness first and only lashed out when needed. That's what always set his pack apart from others. Any and all were welcome within his territory so long as they did not force his hand.

[*sombra delgadillo]

The finality of her inspection granted the next action to her counterpart, whose stare was somewhat disconcerting in the effect of its calm. However, his choice of moves was more disconcerting than even that placid gaze. He was changing. They don’t ever speak of it in novels, unless they’re meant to be dirty, or even movies but when werewolves change there aren’t clothes magically upon their human bodies. They’re stark naked. And despite the confidence that radiated from the she-wolf, Sombra was a modest human and would not have born her naked self so brazenly if she had been paid all the money on earth.

An irritated huff sounded from the lupine as she was suddenly confronted with an indecent Syrian. Pointedly turning away, she reseated herself and waiting – lobes pricked back in his general direction as he made himself decent for even her feral gaze. The prickle of her right lobe as it turned alerted her to its…changed state. The tip was gone. She would probably never notice it on her own – wolves don’t normally look in the mirror. Then he spoke. In a foreign tongue at which point she turned to eye him once down, then up in a fashion that stated quite plainly – “translate.”

Finally sitting back facing him, she continued to eye him as he introduced himself with such formality, nostrils quivering distractedly. And then he was offering food. If a wolf could master the “are you insane?” look, Sombra would have disclosed that. Instead she facilitated a snort – she depended on no one to feed her. Her pride was an impressive thing, often tripping her up but never worth giving up. She treated herself with dignity despite harsh beginnings to her life. Hardened and callused. That was Delgadillo.

Shadow, her name meant, though she had never quite understood why her parents had decided on that particular epithet – she was unaware that even as a tyke she was quiet, silent and fairly reserved. A happy child but not particularly flamboyant. Thus “Shadow”. What to make of this Alpha, Josef as he had named himself, was beyond her at present. She was simply sizing him up. Not interested in becoming human – when she did decide to do that the pain would be..agony. Her damaged ribs would see to her discomfort no doubt. Then again this form made communication quite difficult. She found herself investigating his head dress, inhaling inquisitively for some telltale fiber.

There were stale scents about his wrinkled attire, more wolves – that much was obvious – but who? She was not too familiar with other ferals. But the Mercers were there and that was enough to pique her interest. Sighing almost regrettably she turned and mimicked him – though she saved her transformation until she was certain she was well hidden. As her bones mutated and the fur dissipated she silenced a gasp at the searing pain her ribs delivered in protest.


Biting her lip until it nearly bled, she dressed quickly – pulling on a pair of jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of laced boots ; casual clothing. Drawing her crimson locks back into a loose, low ponytail, allowing for several shorter wisps to hang free, framing her features. The newly added scar was somewhat pink on her right lobe and the scar over her left eye…invisible. As per the usual, her gaze was blazing with the intensity of either curiosity or aggression. Perhaps both. Again, that was Sombra. Born to be wild. As she stepped out of the shroud of the foliage, her thumbs hooked through her belt loops, a brow ascended slowly.

Stopping, she cocked her sore ankle slightly, her hips gaining a mild angle to facilitate this comfortable shifting of weight. ”Well, Josef Abad, I’m Sombra Delgadillo. Alpha of a long vanished pack, which may undermine my position but nevertheless – it’s an earned rank. And no thank you. I’ve eaten recently.” She couldn’t recall what she’d eaten, but she was certain the lupine had gorged itself on some innocent. ”You know Mike Mercer.” She stated, though the tick of her brow suggested she wished to him to add to her offer of information.



_____________________________________

outfit?!

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

The change was a beautiful thing, something that Allah himself granted upon a chosen few. Some viewed it as a curse, others did not. It was still a gift, a very important gift that gave those chosen few advantages over the other. Josef loved to watch the change of other wolves, more so for protective reasons. The weakest state a wolf was ever in was during a change, when they held no control over the body and could not stop mid change willingly. Some claimed it was sleep yet Abad knew a good wolf would naturally feel encroaching danger and waken. Still, as Sombra began her change, her view slightly obstructed, the Syrian turned away. Woman deserve their modesty. She did not stare at him when he changed, impressive to say the least and he would never upon her. This wolf deserved her privacy just like any other.

”Well, Josef Abad, I’m Sombra Delgadillo. Alpha of a long vanished pack, which may undermine my position but nevertheless – it’s an earned rank. And no thank you. I’ve eaten recently.” Her voice pulled his attention back in her direction. She was clothed in casual dress. Not a real fan for denim he could appreciate its appeal, especially when worn on the right body. ”You know Mike Mercer.” His eyes locked with her own as his own subtle sniffs took to the air. She wanted to know about Mike. Was she his mate? No, she couldn't be. Mike did not come off the type to declare a mate. He wanted to assimilate in his position as Beta first, as Josefs second. He didn't smell Mike nor Melanie upon Sombra. What history did she have of them. Was the woman, an born fighter, as it appeared after him for something? Did Mike piss her off in some passing conversation? Know that was never Mercer. Respect was first and foremost. It always had been.

"It is an honor to meet another Alpha, Miss Delgadillo. An Alpha is an Alpha and always will be, regardless as to whether your pack remains or has gone." His statement started off blunt unsure of how to continue. Still he had to get more formalities out of the way, "I know Mike and his sister too." Obviously she could pick up their scents. They may have been away for some time but their scents remained almost everywhere he went, especially at his home, his backyard, and the car. At this point, most other Alphas would have gone into twenty questions, trying to fish out information on someone but the Syrian would not waste his time. Delgadillo was strong, she would know what he was trying to do and shut down immediately.

Josef would not waste his time with those meaningless questions, he would show this alphess the utmost respect.

"We are much," Josef paused momentarily, "in our own state of peril. For reasons of their own, most members of my pack of fled New York... my second being one of them. I have remained, hoping they will one day return. My territory is their own after all." Mike was a nobleman, if it had not been for the lightness of his skin, Mercer could have easily assimilated into a Syrian lifestyle. Peaceful, mindful and thoughtful. That was Mike.

"I pray he is doing well." Josef whispered the next part, "Insha' Allah." Essentially meaning 'God Willing'. Abad cared for those of his pack and should they ever ask, he would come running. It was simply what an Alpha did. Unlike most wolves, Josef did not demand the utmost loyalty. When they were in his territory, they showed the respect he gave them. In return he was always there.

The threats were there but lifting. The Vampiric Coven of New York had not been behind the hit attempts of the New York Wolves and by all accounts, Abad had dealt with those who had been behind the assault. Still, peril existed as he reestablished the Packs Authority in New Yorks supernatural world. A Vampire came at them, the wolve's would respond with ten times the aggression. Still many wolves left, not wanting to be drawn into what they fear would be become a never ending battle.

"Are you family? Friend?" Josef asked. Even though he looked at Sombra, he did not make eye contact, he kept his gaze slightly ascew from her own. Again, all dealing with the respect of modesty between a man and a woman whom were new acquaintances.

[*sombra delgadillo]

Not often did Sombra meet someone who thwarted her wolf’s aggression. Of course, she was a maddening person – one who provoked hostility even from the calmest of souls. Though in her weakened state she was tad less abrasive than usual, mostly for the sake of self preservation. Which the wolf itself had no sense of, but the human Sombra was well aware of. Why she wanted to keep living the way she did was…well beyond the wolf’s senses to decipher and even Sombra had her doubts on bleaker days. The answer was never truly deep, in fact it rarely went beyond Because I can.

Almost a pitiful excuse to keep on taking up oxygen but Sombra was apathetic as far as that went. Truly she was focused on Abad’s gaze as it grew more intense at the mention of Mercer – prepared to call him out on any claims that were to the effect that he didn’t know Mercer. Obviously he and Mike had some sort of connection. Mike Mercer was one of the few people she’d ever grown attached to, and Melanie was as close to a sister as Sombra would ever have again. So the passion to which she addressed the issue was not exactly uncalled for.

The niceties she could have done without, Sombra was to the point – one could do that without being offensive, and the she-wolf could manage the feat…if she’d wanted to. As it was she allowed him to speak uninterrupted, and was pleased when he didn’t deny that he knew the Mercers. There was no hint of her satisfaction, save for the twitch of her brow which was really more of a flick of emotion less so than pleasure. It was a processing movement, thoughtful and absent minded all at once. She was to be disappointed though…

For all of his words, all Sombra drew from them was He isn’t here. Frankly she wasn’t surprised. It was never that easy to find comfort. She doubted she would ever locate her friend, but the human in all of her childish naivety hoped nonetheless. And then of course she caught the dull murmur that passively escaped the Syrian’s lips, despite the foreign language which was presented once again. Another brow twitch was earned by that particular statement but she did not inquire. There was not enough interest. If it was of any importance she would learn soon enough, if not it was just another piece of useless information she wouldn’t have to discard later.

The conversation was about to the point of being stale, already, which wasn’t new – she was accustomed to growing bored quickly. His interrogative words invoked a sigh, her palm rubbing the back of her neck thoughtfully as her gaze twitched away, to the background as she thought. ”Adopted family…” She muttered absent mindedly, her lips pursing as she thought. The wolf clamored for her to give up on them, and sadly Sombra was growing nearer and nearer to admitting that defeat. Stubborn girl.

She was just a bit tired, just a bit sore and just a little cranky. Despite her poor mood she was vulnerable at present and so being hostile was not the more intelligent choice she could make. Breathing a sigh, she coaxed her attention back to the Alpha of the New York pack, leveling her placid gaze with his averted one in an almost predatory manner. Then again, she constantly appeared ready to maul someone. Perhaps it was the feral, unstable expression in those fierce pupils. Whatever it was, Sombra had a nasty habit of not looking friendly. Another sad thing – she didn’t care.

She’d never found a reason to alter who she was. It was against whatever it was she believed. She didn’t change so other people would feel comfortable. Changing to fit others was cliché, foolish and just..well..wrong. She didn’t care what others said about love trumping all rules. It didn’t. Love had limitations. And all this without knowing too much about love. Odd, isn’t it? ”Josef, we should either sit or find somewhere to speak where we can be at ease. Just standing here is not an option.” It was said simply, despite the screaming in Sombra’s limbs and ribcage. Yay for control?

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

She was tired, as much was obvious already. Her body looked as though it wanted to give out and Abad wanting to do nothing more than ensure her safety and well being. Funny how easily the leader of a territory took to protecting another when they chose. "I'm in the mood for pancakes." Josef explained with a grin. He was not one for pancakes, usually preferring specific foods at specific times but this could be an exception. It had been awhile since he had eaten and it had been even longer since he had tasted the fluffy dough delicacies. "Denny's is just down the street." He said. There was one thing about Abad, when he ate with someone, anyone, he expected only their company. He would pay. That was Josef's thing. He had to be the one to pay. "If you wish to come?"

Some Minutes Later

New York was just as it was represented in movies. Jam packed with traffic, mixed with the incessant sounds of car horns drowning out the drones of tourists whom flocked to the over publicized sites that the City was known all too well for. Denny's had not been too far from Central Park. A two block walk east ensured both arrived within ten or so minutes and once inside were ushered quietly to their seats. There was one disadvantage Josef Abad had living in New York. He was Arab and wearing his head scarf only drew attention as he quietly slid onto his side of the red leather booth. was is racism that caused people to often give the Syrian a second glance? Possibly but Abad could not blame them. Even he would admit that his people did little to diffuse the suspicions Americans held about them and the attacks of New York nearly a decade earlier certainly did not help matters. He'd been called names, some people had refused to work with him but again, ignorance was rampant in every society.

As too not embarrass his guest for this evening, Josef removed his kaffiyeh, folding it neatly and setting it beside him. His black hair hung slightly, even as he slid his fingers through it to comb it out slightly. He made no outward notice of why he removed the scarf, instead he would just forget about it. A man of habit, he felt uncomfortable without it on in public but... meh... he would get over it. His eyes glanced through the laminated menu. Most meals had meat within it, all of which Abad had to avoid. Halal meat was regular meat but the means of how the animal was slaughtered was different. The weightress approached, setting a couple cups of black coffee on the table a bowl of half-in-half coffee creamer and immediately pulled out her pad.

'I don't think we ordered coffee yet?' Abad asked, though he knew when to pick battles.

"Are you two ready to order?"

"Do you have Halal meat?" Josef decided to ask.

"Not at this one, the Denny's of the 71st does though." She replied. She was being sincere and honest, the Wolf could tell.

"Ah, alright then. Four pancakes and three eggs, scrambled for me." Josef explained. He glanced at Sombra, a signal for her to order. He had not meant to order first, typically he was second.

"Miss Delgadillo, how long do you plan to be in New York?" Mike was not here, which meant she probably would not be staying long. "In all honesty and if I may be as blunt as humanly possible, the sites suck." he laughed. "Traffic, crowds, noise, overpriced souvenirs and nothing but junk food around. Eugh." He gave a slight smiled as he pulled one of the two cups of coffee towards him. He took one of the half-in-halfs and two pouches of sugars. Mixing the lot into the cup, the fluid went from black to a dark brown. Quietly he took his first sip. Small talk was not usually what Josef enjoyed. Small talk meant simple answers. Josef appreciated deep intellectual converse on any subject, it just had to keep his attention.

Sombra had an aura about her. Syrians were known for their beliefs of personal aura that could be sensed by any other living thing. For wolves, Josef could sense her dominance. He took this as her aura. "If I may ask, what happened to your pack? Something... eventful or more like my case, people just went on their own paths?" Perhaps getting that personal was not the wisest thing but he was curious. No harm in asking a simple question, right?

[*sombra delgadillo]

Honestly, Sombra had locked the joints in her knees and the rest was accomplished through balance despite the appearance of a relaxed stance. She was not relaxed, she was prepared to pass out. Her brow quirked slowly at his enthusiasm…for pancakes. Was he truly psychotic? Her brows flattened as she listened to him but followed regardless. Perhaps it was the exhaustion that made her tolerate this bore, but whatever the case was she was following him down the street so he could eat his damn pancakes. Seriously? Pancakes. There were too many people here. The crowd was a mass that didn’t seem to ever clear and she found herself sidestepping person after person in an effort not to be jostled.

Entering, she observed the concerned expressions directed at Abad with a skeptical eye, her pupils narrowing in calculation. What, exactly, were they afraid of? She had not been too involved in the hustle and bustle following September 11, and so it did not come to her immediately. Arching a brow as he removed the checked scarf wordlessly, uncertain as to whether that was a practice before eating or if there was an outward cause. Having slid into the opposite side of the booth, she held in her sigh of relief as she leant heavily into the back.

Her legs hung slack, somewhat jumbled beneath the table – folded in awkward positions but being as they were nearly numb she couldn’t coax herself to reposition. She noted the slight crease in his brows as he toyed with the ebony locks at his skull and frowned herself. Her glanced ticked back over the employees who still seemed to be eyeing him with apprehension. It was then that it dawned on her. Her brows ascended, and her lips curled up in an amused expression as a couple chuckles managed to slip out.

”Well aren’t you a scary terrorist.” She muttered rhetorically, glancing around the matrons as they served others and even their own as she scampered up. If they were going to generalize, their waitress was a Jane Doe visiting from her double wide in Podunk, Texas…and the rumor was true – people tended to look like their trailers. Smirking at her own sarcasm, she breathed in the cleansing scent of the coffee that steamed before her though the she tasted it with skepticism. Most people didn’t know how to make coffee the way she liked it.

Probably because the coffee she made for herself was so strong it might classify as mud. Taking a sip, she observed that she preferred him without the scarf but pondered as to whether that was her profiling or was it just a partiality to fashion. Either way, ”You don’t have to keep that off. It’s interesting to watch them.” She murmured, smirking over her mug at the wide eyed women. The exchange between he and their waitress wasn’t paid too much attention to. But as it came to be her turn she glanced up at the woman.


”I’ll have two pancakes, an egg over easy and if you have any hanging around, bacon would be nice. OH! And bring some peanut butter when you bring the syrup?” Directing her attention back to her coffee, she took another sip – silently wishing she’d made it and cursing its weakness – but was distracted by his prying words. Arching a brow at his observation of his own city, she smirked, lazily at this point. ”New York is much like Hollywood portrays it. A day or two maybe.” Long enough to heal. That’s usually what her travel plans hinged on.

And Sombra did a great deal of healing. So much so that sometimes she thought that she probably healed a little faster than most because her body was so accustomed to doing so. The validity of that had never been tested though, and frankly it only mattered to her so investigation seemed…pointless. And again with the questions…”More the second than the first. It was created solely for their benefit.” It was murmured with something of a closed mouth. It was in poor taste to speak down to them when they weren’t here to taste the bitterness in her words. Domestics.

”Though I would wager that you were closer to yours than I to mine. It was more like a babysitting job in my experience. Not that they didn’t have endearing quirks. But I do not mourn their absence.” It was stated frankly, and she went back to sipping her coffee, her gaze growing cold as it was honed on the curious eyes of the manager as he stared over the cash register. Stifling a snarl, she thought to herself but acted on her aggression, no. Would you like me to come over that counter and give you a taste of American scary so you can stop worrying about the foreigners?

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

He could not help but chuckle at her comment of babysitting. Funny as it was, he could not truly relate. The closest thing he had to babysitting was some teen wolf that liked to break into his car on some nights to find a place to sleep. Makena had made herself at home in New York and was a member of Abads pack, well one of the ones that had ventured off. Having to keep her out of trouble with local authorities was the only bit of babysitting he had to do for his pack. Otherwise, all had been able minded enough to go about their buisness in civility and respect. "I was close to them yes. Mike was always there. It's odd. I had them around for so long, yet now that they are gone I feel nothing truly... unnerving about it. We were brothers in many sense but..." Abads eyes trailed the invisible line Sombra's look made through the air as she stared down a man at the register. Most probably a manager.

"like I've always told them. They need me, they can call. If they ever come back, their spots are always open." It's not how he wanted to finish his line of thought but the few stares he occasionally got were, more than anything irritating. "Their habits are interesting," Abad began while referring to an earlier comment that Delgadillo made. "I can't really remember if I was like them when I was in Syria, staring at those who looked different. Again, I can't really blame them - it's human nature to be wary of that which someone does not truly understand. This actually is not so bad. You should have been here when I went to ground zero, when it was reopened to the public. Not that was not fun." Though it was a joke, he didn't laugh. It was time to change the subject. As long as Ibn-Abad sat at the table with a radiant Caucasian woman, the duo would get stares. At least he could make the encounter a little less tense filled by not drawing attention to the glances of those around.

"Have you heard from your pack mates lately? How they have been doing and such?" He said before taking a couple of gulps from his mug before wiping his mouth and facial stubble with the napkin. "No matter what we do, you and I, we will always hold concern for them on some level. Though Mike..." Abad began to chuckle, "He was one wolf whom could talk himself into any situation and then talk himself right out of it. If there was anyone you wanted at your side when a problem arose, it was Mercer. He had a skill with words that could calm even the angriest person." The idea was simple, speaking of something they both had in common. Abad knew of three things off the top of his head. They were both Alpha's, both were leading vanishing packs and both knew Mike, he still could not help but wonder if they had anything else in common. Perhaps speaking on a safe topic would open up others.

"Miss Delgadillo," Ibn-Abad said, breaking a momentary silence, "where are you staying exactly?" Josef cared. She was an Alpha and a woman, if she was roaming the streets, he would step in. "If you plan to go back to the Park, I can not allow that. As a fellow... equal... I will place you in a hotel for the remainder of your stay here." Nothing in his voice rang of a cheap come on simply because Abad was not trying too. He'd pay for her room then leave, well as soon as dinner was over. "I can bring you some of Mikes things in the morning. He left a couple of pairs of clothes and other belongings at my place, in the event of emergencies. In case you run into him." Even Josef was surprised at how he was acting. Here he had a injured and tired Alpha, who if healthy would have been a viable threat to him if she wanted and yet all he could do was show absolute respect. It seemed the habits of a Syrian would truly never vanish, regardless if they were were or not.

"Ah food's here." Josef said, spotting the waitress approaching with the plates.

[*sombra delgadillo]

It was becoming more and more obvious that despite their similarities in situation they handled the dilemma quite differently. Josef’s comment discussing the fact that he was not concerned about the practical disband of his pack was intriguing but unsurprising. It was much easier to be nonchalant than to panic, was it not? And how would he have proposed to track down that “family” of his? It would be so much time squandered for no particular reason. The tirade where he spoke entirely of his availability to his members and their place in his pack was somewhat amusing to Sombra.

Though at that point she was rather engaged by those around her and did not process the speech enough to do a response justice. By the time her gaze swung back to the Syrian he had turned to a separate topic entirely and she found herself with her palms clasped and holding up her chin – her elbows propped on the table directly before her. Those strangely colored eyes gazed back at him in an almost skeptical fashion – calculating as per the usual. ”It would have been a bold venture, to say the very least.” It was a dry observation, a faint twitch of her lips disclosing her lazy amusement.

The problem with such discussions was that there was clear bitterness in them – racism was a touchy topic and therefore it rarely induced laughter unless one was poking fun at it. Glancing down at her quickly emptying cup, the mention of her pack coaxed a quiet chuckle ”No, I’ve heard nothing but my own breathing lately.” It was murmured haphazardly. Sombra wasn’t concerned about them. Quite the opposite. She thought a bit of the wilderness the world had left to offer would do them good. They were all softies, even Conall. Frankly she wasn’t too fond of domestics.

That is, wolves that lived like caged beasts and apologized for their nature. Wolves that lived as humans. Sombra was a wolf. It was who she had become. No more and no less. The mention of Mike stung – he was one last connection she had to the human world and even he had turned wolf and vanished. Biting her tongue mechanically, she nodded, a smile admitting that she agreed with Josef. Mike could take care of himself, and Melanie. Staring at her counterpart as he seemed to ponder something within his own mind, it appeared to be the last thing she would have guessed a moment later.

Where was she staying? Really?! Sombra had never stayed in a hotel, motel or otherwise. She had used the outdoors to sleep in. Internally the wolf snarled at the intrusion of privacy. The human was threatened by the idea that someone else planned to pay for her stay in New York. She flinched away from the idea. Still, her outward appearance was unchanging. ”I’ll find adequate accommodations, thank you. But I would appreciate whatever you have of Mike’s, I do hope to see him soon.” It was said in a slow, thoughtful tone as she stared out the glass window for a moment.

Josef was an interesting fellow. He did not provoke her as most did, though the wolf was still feeling a bit wounded from the idea of having him pay for a room for her. That had not been a blow meant to hurt. At the scent of her bacon though, the wolf was otherwise employed. The next several minutes were spent hastening to spread peanut butter over her pancakes and then cutting them. After cutting both she poured syrup over them – wordlessly. Clearly she was engaged by her portions. The wolf was hungrier than she had previously guessed.

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

Lines were being drawn in the sand, territories being marked. Sombra wanted no help, wanted to be left alone for the night. She wanted no assistance in finding sleep for the eve, an admirable trait which showed exactly why she was an Alpha herself, it was still a handicap. Josef would need to know where she was sleeping... no; Josef would know. Ibn-Abad made it a point to know where all wolves were most of the time in the city. Some worked on Wall Street, others dotted about. He had to keep track. When it came to the city territory, he was judge, jury and executioner. Was this a threat to Sombra? No. It was just how Josef handled himself. Wolves knew the rules when it came to New York City, though Sombra did not. She would have a separate set of rules to follow. Technically it was only one and at the moment it appeared she would not be breaking it... setting up a pack of her own, here. Abad treated fellow Alpha's differently.

He treated them with respect.

The food had been slid in front of him, yet he found himself only nibbling from the plate. People said he ate like a bird, taking small, polite bites over gorging. Never knowing why he ate like he did, he just never second thought it, until now. Before him sat another Alpha and the aura she exhibited rivaled his own. Even Adela was not on Josefs level on dominance, she was just one rung down. Sombra was at his level and each time her eyes fell to him... he felt it. In the arab world, it was insulting for a male to glance at a woman directly in the eyes. Some Muslims believed the eyes were the window of the soul and by peering into them, one could essentially see the soul of the other individual. Was Ibn-Abad a Muslim? People could make the arguments both ways, he did not pray but he followed custom. Each time he gave Sombra a glance it was always to another part of her face around the eyes, whether it be her eyelashes, her eyebrows or the surrounding flesh but never specifically dead on.

"If it's ok, I'll also be giving you Melanie's belongings as well. Nothing major, mind you, just a pair of clothes, a tooth brush and their personal toothpaste." Abad was not a pack rat for keeping their belongings. They had left them at his place, he looked after them but now... it was time to reform. Wolves often got a sense about them, that change was at hand. Josef's change was already occurring. Was he an Alpha or the overseer of a territory? Where they the same role or completely different? Enda Aherin was still around but did it mean he should rule over a specific pack of look after a territory and keep order. Many wolves still acted uncivil when an authoritative figure was not around.

Abad used this time too take subtle sniffs of the air, which was relatively like normal breathing but he scanned the scent the Sombra gave off. No other wolves could be picked up off her, sure he tried it earlier in the Park but the parks own natural scents could have drowned something out. He smelled no male, no female. Interesting. "What do you do for a living Miss Delgadillo?" Abad continued with formalities. "I guess I should not assume you will answer questions first all the time, so to even the playing field... I work for the Bank of Luzon as the Chief Executive Officer and temporarily acting as the Chief Financial Officer." The memories of the attempted murder of him flashed back, more specifically the attack against him in the hospital. Trying to change with bullets lodged in your body was a painful and excruciating experience. How he managed to change as far as he did was a testament to his abilities and control. "Pretty boring life." He lied. It had become eventful as of late, simply too eventful. "Now how about yourself?"

In his pack, all of his wolves had held jobs. One was a gas station attendant, another worked at Saks Fifth Avenue so the careers and jobs ranged and he did not think ill of anyone for what they did. An honest days pay was a admirable. People have different skill sets, Abad knew this. He did not care what wolves did, as long as they applied themselves to something. Surely Sombra had to have a job for all the running around she did, even if it was a small job here and there... didn't she?

[*sombra delgadillo]

Abad had not argued with her clear and definite statement that she would not necessitate aid. After all, the refusal was fairly plain. If he had persisted she would have been more than happy to spell out the futility of his attempts. Sombra, even before the wolf, had been an independent soul. When her parents were gone and it was just she and her younger sibling, it had been Sombra who had made certain they survived. And they didn’t. Emily had succumbed to the elements. Even as a young werewolf Sombra had been unable to care for her. Not enough.

Perhaps that was why she was so emotionally removed. How she missed Amber. More than that, her failure had been like a blade to the heart, it still took a bit to stomach her loss. It had been some time since she had thought about her sister, and as Sombra did she realized her features had twisted into a quiet frown. It was no more distorted than one would perceive someone thinking but she was given to wanting to control all aspects of herself at all times…except the wolf. Frankly, that was a whole different can of worms.

Sombra’s wolf was a rebel. An alpha. How she had managed to pull one of those genes out of the hat she wasn’t certain but as she had matured it became more and more obvious. Her aggression, flighty and feral nature proved to her over and over again that the female was ballsier than plenty of males. Of course…her scars put it bluntly – just because she got into the fight didn’t mean she won it. It meant she fought it. When the odds were stacked against her that wolf would still rear her head and dive in…Why? Because a life lived as a house pet was not worth living.

Ms. Delgadillo was one of the few people whose nature as a human had been so under-developed that when the change happened the wolf had been given quite a bit of rein to do as it pleased. And in turn it had become far more like a wolf than most others did. As with Abad she carried a dominant gene. But he was governed by higher set morals, the human was capable of taming the beast. Sombra…no longer wanted to. It was who she had become and fighting that was not in her lines.

Josef was talking again, about Melanie’s things. Another sister figure to Sombra but more reserved. She doubted she would care for anyone as much as she had cared for Amber. And then Jerome. Jerome was a different kind of caring. She had loved him. Let him in. A human. Not a vampire but a human, weak and frail as they came. And he’d vanished. Poofed. And then came back just in time to open up old wounds and douse them in salt. Now? He was missing in action again. Sombra was not surprised, neither was she saddened about it. Jerome had lost her trust, and the wolf would no longer allow her to grow emotionally close. It denied her the hope of his return.

It fueled its wants with anger, whispered thoughts of betrayal and abandon. That was enough to keep her thoughts at bay. Shaking her head slightly to get her back in the now, she breathed a sigh slowly and watched Josef the changes in his gaze as he mulled things over. Naturally she had noticed by now her stare was never returned, and that was somewhat disconcerting. How to get that wolf to stare back at her…Probably wouldn’t even as a beast.

[/b] It was bitterly realized. He was a domestic at its finest. But then Sombra had begun to realize…no one was like her, and perhaps that was good for the breed. She was beaten far too much to be healthy. Wolves with level heads would probably live better…not better…more average lives.

At the mention of her profession she smirked. It was always so shocking when she told people what she did for a living. But he just kept talking. She arched a brow – she could very easily see him overseeing a bunch of stiffs in their favorite Armani suits. Chuckling to herself, she arched a brow – life for anyone was not boring, unless you were human and daft. But she didn’t call him out on that. Taking a bite of pancake and peanut butter, she chewed thoughtfully as he repeated his question. By the time she’d swallowed he’d finished. ”I’m a mechanic, I was working for Blackwell Industries for a time, but since have been doing some independent work.

My clientele varies from rednecks who can’t seem to get their ’59 mustang running to business tycoons who’ve broken down on the side of the rode with their flashy red Audi.” She had given more than he had asked, for once, very honestly explaining the flow of her business though she was internally preparing for the face he made at the idea of her drenched in gasoline and grease. It was actually very attractive. She adored the scent. So…what was the word…industrial. It was a hands on job, and she enjoyed it. She loved playing with the various automotives. She was a car person…and like everything about her personality, she didn’t know how it happened…[/blockquote]

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

She was a wrench monkey? The idea was intriguing. Honestly she did not carry herself as one, though what did Josef know of female mechanics? Nothing. He only knew males, those at Pepboys and the Valvoline Quick Stop centers that dotted the outskirts of the city. Things were starting to grow tense once again. An awkward silence set in. Most men would have probably been turned on by her profession; who did not like a woman whom could handle herself around a vehicle. Josef could not care less about cars. In fact, he found them to be more of a nuisance than anything. Sure they got him from point a to point b but depending on the car, people did not get what they paid for. If a car broke down, he simply sold it as junk and got a new one. He wouldn't waste his time on expensive repairs. People who did were suckers. Abad waved his hand, a flashing signal for the waitress to return. He would not address Sombras profession. It was honest work, she did what she had to do to survive.

Good for her.

"Since you wish for no assistance in acquiring accommodations," Josef spoke as the Waitress approach. Immediately the woman placed the black leather booklet which held the bill onto the table, allowing the Syrian to slip a debit card within. "I shall leave you be for the evening." The waitress walked away for a moment, to charge the card. "I'll gather their possessions tonight and hand them to you in the morning." Within seconds the waitress returned and set the receipt on the table and a pen.

Abad's handwriting was just that. An elegant cursive, a type of writing that seemed to be going extinct as more and more people refused to write in such a fashion. Josef Ibn-Abad, a name that made the Syrian proud of his heritage. Names said it all and he carried his with absolute pride, regardless of what people thought of his ethnicity. Once again, Josef wrapped he scarf around his head, still careful to not catch a direct eye glance with Sombra. "Peace of God be upon you, Miss Delgadillo." This time he spoke in plain english, though his accent seemed stronger than normal this one time.

He left the restaurant not even bothering to ask Sombra where she would be staying. He did not care simply because he would find her. This was his territory, he had eyes and ears everywhere. If she was a woman of her word and would stay in New York until tomorrow morning, he would find her to hand her Mike and Melanies possessions. The air was colder in the time they had been within Denny's. Tucking the scarf around the base of his neck he let out a whistle. A cab came to a screeching halt, its warm rubber tires screeching against the cooler street. 'Tell tomorrow, Sombra.' Josef mumbled. Turning to the driver of the cab, "1929 Salva St, Bolland Heights." Josef explained. A more... attractive neighborhood on the outskirts of the city, it was the area of his home. All wolves knew it, all wolves stayed away unless invited.

Still the Syrian could not help but be curious as to where he would be finding Delgadillo in the morning. People thought what they want of Josef, especially outside Wolves who probably assumed he was some self-righteous rich loon who had no idea what it meant to be a wolf. Those wolves were the ones who were shown just what kind of Animals roamed in the depths of the Arab. He was just as unpredictable and dangerous and any wild counterpart and if people were not careful, if people pushed the right buttons, that wolf would be unleashed.

The difference between Josef and most other wolves... he had not just tasted the blood of another individual, he had not just been in fights; he had taken lives. It gave one a different outlook when they tore fingers of an idividual who pointed a gun at them clean off. Rubbing the stubble of his face, Abad sank into the chair of the cab and cleared his mind.

The night was over.