[just need a little time to wake up] josef

[*sombra delgadillo]

It was difficult to calculate just how many times Sombra had been incapacitated by her opponents. She wasn’t some magical boxer who never took a hit. No Sombra had lost a few fights, and frankly she was unashamed of that fact. There was nothing about her that shouted “pride” so much as it shouted…”dignity”. She could lose and still be absolutely as solid in herself as she ever was. Frankly because the point wasn’t to win but to survive. If you’ve learned anything about the she-wolf it’s that the world “survival” is comically overused. It’s all about keeping her heart beating.

Though she never stopped to wonder just what kind of shape her heart was in or the rest of her. There were countless injuries she’d pushed herself through just to keep going, to keep functioning. But it was all so difficult to heal when she wouldn’t let herself rest. And in light of that fact she healed well and remarkably quickly. The immaculate wolf was lying, quite unconscious, on the cold asphalt on the side of some dark alleyway. There was a dead woman lying some fifteen feet away from her, dead in a puddle of her own blood. Though a quick whiff would clear Sombra of any blame.

There was no trace of the dead one’s blood on the she-wolf. Her coat was free of any blood…except her own. One of the broken ribs had cut through the skin, utterly dislodged from its place. It was probably a good thing that she was out like a light – the pain would have been excruciating, and in that pain it would have been difficult to breathe slowly. At least unconscious her breaths were slow and regular. Then again, if she stayed there with it exposed too long it risked infection so really…how much time was exactly the right amount?

If it was allowed to heal that way she would perpetually have breathing problems and a small bump where the skin and fur had healed over. And that…would carry over to the human who would sport a scar and an obvious bump as well. The human was a bit more self conscious than the wolf, who considered itself a tank and not something to be concerned with the decoration and ceremony of looking beautiful. As such there wasn’t really anything to be said, Sombra wasn’t bleeding so much that she could die.

The rib was plugging the wound it had caused. How convenient was it not? Still, infection wasn’t something to be toyed with. As usual she’d gotten herself in a difficult situation, one that alone she would perhaps survive but it would forever plague her life. The wound wasn’t something she could just ignore. Actually…she probably would try her damnedest to ignore it, no matter how foolish that course of action was. It was just a bit chilly this evening, but classic to the New York style, the hustle and bustle hadn’t stopped. Car horns blared nearby and tires screeched. So tell me…how long does a big white, bleeding wolf go unnoticed?

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

"Stop!"

Even with the windows to the Lincoln Town Car completely rolled up, his voice could be heard some distance outside the vehicle as clear as if they had been down. The accent of his voice was dominate as the native Syrian returned from within. The scent was on the air. The scent had been picked up. Her scent had brought about the sudden outburst that Josef Ibn-Abad directed at his driver. It had been a couple of months since the hits on his pack, still though, the Federal Government had Ibn-Abad under surveillance and he had protective escorts when he went to public events and fundraisers. Tonight, having gone to a dinner at the Mayors Condominium was such an event which awarded the protective entourage. The suit in the front seat was a veteran driver, knowing the streets of New York better than the most highly trained of taxi drivers. Occasionally a phone next to the driver would ring, the Bureau ensuring everything was ok. Americans were sure overprotective at times. Still, after the sudden stopping of the vehicle, the driver snapping his aged face back to the Syrian in a glance of surprise, Josef's eyes darted from left to right, looking out every window.

"Is something wrong?" The driver asked, taking note of Josef's nostril flaring.

The Alpha kept taking in the scent. It was strong but did it mean that she was close? "Stay here. Keep the engine running." Ibn-Abad ordered as he opened the door and stepped out. Then a more powerful scent overtook him. The scent of fresh blood. He followed his nose which guided him down the street, ahead of the Town Car; which remained where it stopped. There were other scents in the area, average people, foods, distinct New York smells but another new smell dared linger past his flaring nostrils... blood. He'd met her in Central Park, the Alphess who treaded on his territory. Sombra Delgadillo had earned his respect and as such she could move freely within his territory. He ran through his mind, focusing on the smell of the blood. It was so mangled with other scents he could not decipher who's it was. The Streets were packed, typical of New York. Horns flaring, artificial lights, people chatting, people yelling... so much noise but still all of it seemed to fade as Ibn-Abad gave everything he had to full focus of one sense... smell.

Then there was the alleyway. The scents wrapped around Josef, guiding him like a Trout following a predetermined path by instinct and senses alone. He spotted her first. The Wolf that lay on the ground, barely breathing... not moving. Then those almond eyes traveled to the female body which lay near her. It was now apparent why he could not decipher who's blood was on the air. The blood scent was a combination of many. Sombra's and this womans. His eyes glanced around, looking for any possible threat. No one could be seen in the alleyway; he heard nothing out of the ordinary. He approached Sombra cautiously, taking the upwind approach so that she could catch his scent and know that the New York Alpha was approaching, yet when she made no gesture concern grew. As he steps neared, she refused to move, refuse to acknowledge his presence. Then it was as clear as the early morning sun as to why Sombra was so defiant in acknowledging the Alpha of the Territory.

She simply could not.

The Alphess was out cold. Her eyes lazily shut, the rub sticking out of her side, her breathing shallow. Josef Ibn-Abad ruled New York with absolute ferocity. He demanded the utmost respect of any wolf who called the city his home or whom wanted to pass through. He had established rules and regulations; some of which were specifically set in place to deal with issues involving fights as well as other Alphas. No one was to attack any Alpha in New York and fights were simply not allowed. Someone attacked an Alpha. Somoene broke his golden rules. Someone would be paying a hefty price. Knealing down next to Sombra, he opened her lids, testing the pupil dihilation. They retracted... but slightly. Removing the Kafiyah from around his head, the Syrian glanced at the exposed rib. He knew what needed to be done. Taking a wolf to a Vet in new York would result in Animal control being called, investigations, and the whole nine yards. Were's had to deal with their own wounds and exposed ribs needed to be put back into place. That was the simple fact. There would be no specially trained medical attention coming this night. At the angle it was at, Josef would need to pull slightly and push down. If he could get it back into the body and turned slightly, it should heal right. With both hands, he pushed down; the alleyway filling with the sound of popping as the rib slid against the others and back beneath the flesh before being turned back inwards. Very few sounds got to Josef but the sound of bone cracking and moving was irritating. He wrapped the Kafiyah around the wolfs torso before securing it with his Igal cord.

His attention turned to the woman, who's massive amount of blood loss was the first sign that she was lifeless. He stood, taking in a glance of the face. Unrecognizable. Her scent seemed vaguely familiar, something he thought he remembered fromthe BonFire get together the wolves had upstate awhile back but still, the Alpha could not be 100% certain. A dead wolf. Another law of his broken. The Feds would be all over this in minutes once they were alerted so there was no need for Josef to dispose of a body. His eyes caught the shimmer of a silver ring on her right middle finger. Though the Syrian was borderline Muslim and did not believe in it, he knew in events such as this; Karma had a way of becoming a bitch and exacting revenge. Pulling the ring off the woman, he slid it into his pocket. This woman died in his territory, it simply meant Josef would be the one who exacted her vengeance. She would have retribution and when Josef found her killer, he would simply hurt them. No special threats needed. Pain was a Syrian speciality. The ring would offer a rememberance of his task.

He made his way back to Sombra and lifted the Alphess, who still remained in her wolf state in both arms and quickly made haste to the street. With a loud whistle, he signaled for his driver who brought the vehicle. His eyes widened as he spotted Josef holding the Animals but did not say anything as he leapt out and opened Abads door. The Syrian slid in, the door slammed shut and the driver returned to his seat. "Call speed dial one. Tell then NHI and this location. End the call at that point." His voice was riggid, yet not shaken. Hardly anything shook the Syrian to his core though an injured Alphess was testing his nerve. Sombra held his respect. One of a very select few who did. As the driver made the call and the car moved off, Josef gently rubbed her ear.

Some time later... The Ibn-Abad Home

He sat on his sofa, Sombras face resting on his thigh. He continued to rub her ear, just as he had done in the car ride home. It was dangerous, what he was doing. At any point she could wake up and the Alpha already knew one important fact about his counterpart. She was just as wild as he in her wolvin state. He'd seen hints of it when he approached her in Central Park and when he had found her in the woods. When she woke up, she was liable to have a natural gut instinct and attack him. Not because he was a threat but because she was injured. Still, he was confident in himself. H If she tried to snap at him, he'd move. Hopefully it would not come to that. He would defend himself if push came to shove. There was not much else he could do for her. On the coffee table he had pain killers, water, wraps, heat pads, and essentially every necessity needed to properlly treat wounds and help her on her path towards recovery. With the beating she apparently took, it'd be awhile. He had been in the same boat and if her ego was like his; she would probably have trouble accepting that fact. Still, he sat, his eyes locked on his television which was set too The Simpsons. A grin escaping his lips as Homer got a plundger stuck to his bald head, all the while his hand gently rubbing her left ear as he face and muzzle remained laid across his thigh.

[*sombra delgadillo]

Commonality; it’s something that nature was created to seek. Birds seek birds of the same kind and when they find that beloved flock they cling to that link to the familiar, the secure. Penguins in particular find mates that they decide upon for the rest of their lives, as well as otters and even…wolves. Modern society however has broken down this potential for greatness, this meek try at stability in a dynamic universe. Society and the people that compose it have melted down even the vaguest hint of anything that may grant hope in the darkness. The fundamentals of life now? Why obviously they’re sex, drugs and alcohol. That is so clearly the norm that it’s difficult to be a deviant in a social ring…or at least it’s difficult to deviate for any fixed length of time. Sure we all enter the world with the best of intentions but by the time we’ve become adults we’ve grown calloused, we’ve grown hard in an effort to shield ourselves away from the hurt that this new social order brings to the tender ones. Do you know what you read about very rarely in ancient tales? Suicide or at least suicide for the sake of one’s own comfort. In the olden days taking one’s life was usually an attempt to take a secret with you. Today? Today suicide is an escape…an escape from the drugs, sex and alcohol.

So do tell me, what is so great about what society has created? If you come to a conclusion even similar to my own then your answer is a flat “Nothing”. If that isn’t the case then I challenge you, no I beg you to give a substantial response that tells of the worthiness of today’s order. In a reality that no longer bothers to comfort its needy, its young or its elderly what is there but self sufficiency? And doesn’t that self interest make us all just a bit more selfish? Not only that but we’re so fixated on instant self gratification that we make everyone else miserable in the process and we land at the same terminal; suicide. I would submit that it’s an ongoing war, a frantic struggle to hold onto the sanity we lay claim to at birth. It’s a fight for the liberties of our basic existence – we just want to live. These newly introduced standards are not only killing society’s morals but its draining the population of the will to change the rotting meat of the world’s body. It’s a vortex of confusion, pain and desperation. Throw a couple souls who are just a wee bit frustrated, a wee bit violent and a lot feral and, honey, we have a problem.

A Ms. Sombra Delgadillo had hit that wall some years back. She had found that today’s world was tiresome, and living in it according to the ideals of someone else was an exercise in futility. How could one win against odds set by someone else when those odds hinged on the trend of the second? There was regality in rebellion, and divinity in the knowledge that one is going against the wind, turning ones back to the familiar and taking the beast by the horns. And perhaps her efforts were in vain as well…but at least they were a decision, not a “go with the flow” politically correct bottle fed bullshit idea that someone else thought up. The she-wolf was practically a vagabond, and as far as her heart concerned she was for all intensive purposes homeless. There was nowhere she was comfortable staying for more than a day. Not even her own home since Goetschl invaded it. It made her painfully aware of her vulnerability when she kept a permanent address. She’d cast herself out of social circles, out of the human world, and now out of her own home. Would it ever be enough?

Being unconscious is a funny sort of twilight zone feeling. It’s a bit like floating on clouds but with the awareness of pain and motion without the will to do much about it. It reminded Sombra very much of vertigo. Where motion could cause sickness in the blink of an eye. After the Asian had so unceremoniously flung her into an adjacent wall she had only known the black of nothingness. And even as Josef approached she could only manage to stay aware long enough to recognize his scent at which point she allowed herself to fall back into sweet oblivion. Perhaps Josef would harm her – exert his wrath because she’d been fighting on his turf, but there were two facts that stopped her from much concern. One being that he seemed the sort to actually “fight” his battles, not just shoot an unconscious werewolf like a common dog. And two being even if she wanted to get up and give it a go there was no moving with the injury she had sustained. She had always had a very keen sense of knowing how bad it was, now whether she listened to that gut feeling was another matter entirely…

As she was jostled around she remained limp, though the excruciating pain of having her rib snapped back into place did cause her to stir, it was only just enough to crack an eye at the Syrian. It was both a grateful and resentful look, and a hoarse snarl bubbled raggedly in her throat – an act that took more effort than she expected it to. That final wrench would have caused a frenzy of desperation in an effort to escape had she had the ability to move but the only reaction was for her to tumble back into the black again. Her next coherent thought came in an enclosed space with limited lighting – from what she could sense from beneath her eyelids – that smelt mostly of Josef. Her body was limp but her fur was obviously on end from tension and that feral distrust. She didn’t open her eyes just then…she didn’t care where she was or where she was going. Apathy and patience found in her weakness and the will to let herself heal so that she could fight another day.

The next chapter of her little excursion found her in a place with dim lighting, warmth and again that scent of Josef. The Syrian’s smell was not unpleasant but it was distinct – reminding her of Moroccan spices. Again, she encountered that twilight feeling where her each and every thought processed more slowly than it generally might have. At the sensation of a few digits stroking her lobe she stirred, yet another slightly pathetic snarl hissing past clenched jowls. It was a notification – “Okay I’m waking up you can stop treating me like a puppy that got hit by a car now.” Going to move her skull all went well until her shoulders demanding her lower half move, at that point a sharp inhale of air – similar to a gasp – sounded and her shoulders slumped though she had resolved to prop herself upright. Locking her elbows she remained frozen in that half laying down, half sitting up position for a good minute before she tried it again. This time the pain seared just the same but she would not topple pitifully into his lap. Her pride would burn far worse than any physical wound.

Managing to sit up, she blinked groggily – dizzy from the work, exertion and that “just woke up” feeling. Her glazed cobalt stare ticked cautiously over her surroundings – not bothering to touch on Josef just yet. She investigated the beginning of a hall that promised to lead to the outdoors, towards a side wall then to the television. Of course it was a program that the she-wolf did not recognize – she’d never stayed indoors long enough to take interest in TV. Finally her steady gaze took in the features of her “rescuer”, though that pride of hers said she would have healed just fine on her own. The logical human snapped a commanding Would have healed wrong. The wolf was humbled briefly though her gaze did not convey any such sentiment, it was placid – her fur ruffled and seemed just as wild as she. She stared at him long and hard, as if deciphering long and hard what he was all about. Not that she expected any sort of answer by just looking at his face. Not that it was difficult to stare. Men were not generally something she took notice of, but as he’d taken time out of his day to show concern she may as well give him a passing glance. After about two minutes of shameless staring Sombra hoisted her hindquarters up, the effort inducing a labored grunt and then a whine that was cut short as the pain got the best of her.

Padding somewhat clumsily towards the other end of the couch, she managed to circle once, twice and a third time before she gingerly laid down against the arm with her skull upon it. Breathing slowly, she stewed in the situation silently, staring at the TV in that way that denotes “zoning out”. Of course she wasn’t really watching it. But she was in no shape to change, which limited conversation to him speaking to her and her listening. Moreover a change meant being naked…she had no clothes here and believe it or not the alpha female had modesty. Once or twice as a youth she had changed without thinking it over before hand – surfacing stark naked in front of people she would have rather not seen her in the nude. So to be frank there’s something to be said about thought before action. And also chivalry. The human in Sombra growled at the wolf – ensuring that Josef Abad would receive a thank you as soon as she was able. Lucky Syrian. Except for one tiny detail – he’d housed a wolf who stayed in a place for three days before she got restless enough to kill. And this healing job? Could take a week or more because of the complexity of the damage. If you were looking for a bit of danger, you found it.



_______________________________

EHEM. So the paragraphs in all italics are sort of something to do with the post...and sort of me ranting. I was pissed off when I started. Also my post is 1,704 words. But from now on lets try to stay around the 800 range so we don't get bogged down? Lol. That is all.

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

She moved herself quietly, instinct alerting Josef to not make a sudden movement. Her half stance, half sitting posture meant she was still groggy yet highly unpredictable. This was the moment, the minute in which would be determined how Sombra Delgadillo would respond to Josef Ibn-Abad. The tension was mount on the Syrians part, though he made no real physical gestures to acknowledge such. He was simply on the ready. Her glances around went unnoticed, until it turned towards him. A minute, possibly two, passed as the wolf sat on the couch; her gaze locked upon the Arab. As the tension mounted, the climax building, Ibn-Abad was at the ready. When most would have assumed that excitement would follow next, that Sombra would lash out... they would have been greatly disappointed. Just as quickly as the tension built, it dissipated. Sombra turned, make herself comfortable on the sofa and laid back down. She may have been laying down but she was awake now.

The Son of Abad now housed another dominate in his home. Josef was not one for pep talks and felt no need to 'talk himself up' by wishing himself good luck in dealing with another injured Alpha. It was his home. His rules. Yes, even Josef followed his own rules. He expected his wolves to show other Alphas the same respect they showed him, he would show Sombra that respect as well. He turned his head, eyeing her quietly. She was in pain, it did not take a astrophysicist to see that. She would need food, fluids, rest, and medications. He had water, sodas, teas, and juices in the fridge. He had the medications on the table, and obviously she was free to sleep as much as she pleased but food was a different story. Wolves were known to eat raw meat, in fact Josef had done such in the past when hunting in his wolvin state but in his human form he had some... moral obligations to uphold. Hilal meat needed to be cooked. Again, it did not really matter but it was a habit. The human side of Josef had to have cooked meat but what about Sombra.

He turned his attention back to the television, The Simpsons beginning to come to an end as at this point in the episode, Homer was regaining his job at the nuclear power plant after a previously stupid stunt he pulled with the plunger. In the Arab culture, Wolves and their domestic counterparts were unclean animals. Seen religiously as souls of Satan, they were deemed unworthy of religious sanctity and meant they were unpure. Any Arab seen petting or housing a wolf or dog was considered taboo. Still, being a wolf opened the Syrians eyes. He had always been different and frankly... was quite proud of being what he was. Having Sombra on his sofa and being a wolf himself allotted himself an unbiased opinion of the ignorance of his own culture. Quietly he stood, yet before passing Sombra, he adjusted the scarf covering her wound. The bleeding stopped but the flesh was raw and would be for awhile. Either she could not shift or did not want too. Either way was fine with Josef. She could do as she wished.

Passing Delgadillo, he vanished into the dining hall and right into his kitchen. He worked fast, Abad always had when he cooked. The pork (yet another taboo thing he ate) was pulled from the fridge, as was the cream cheese. Next he grabbed dried crunchy onions from the cupboard, then a pan and tinfoil. Laying the tinfoil across the pan, he slapped the four decent sized pork chops on the foil, then covered their top sides with cream cheese and then dried onion. An absolutely delicious recipe that Ibn-Abad loved. If Sombra did not like cream cheese or onion, she could simply removed the top coverings. He turned the gas stove and disappeared into other realms of his home.

The alpha reemerged into the living room, after having gone to his room, carrying a robe, one of his black night shirts, grey sweat pants as well as a blanket. He set the clothes on his side of the couch, laid the blanket over Sombra and went back to the kitchen where he stuck the meat into the oven and came back, yet again, into the living room. "As Salaamu Alaykum. It is a pleasure to meet you again, Miss Delgadillo." Josef said, finally speaking. The exact same greeting he had always given Sombra. "I see you've had an eventful night." He knew she could not talk back except for any snarls or growls, some of which she had already let slip earlier. Quietly he pulled the ring from his pocket and set it a top the television. "When you are able, I wish to know what happened but for now... I have pork in the oven. It will take about an hour too cook. Until then... how about..." his eyes glanced at the television as they came to a Jim Carrey flick, "Bruce Almighty?"

[*sombra delgadillo]

Hospitality was a foreign concept to Sombra, mostly because like many others she had grown up without a family to use as role models. There was an awkwardness about that whole topic would probably never dissipate. It was her great failure after all, her sister’s death. Her parents had not been Sombra’s concern, but the child was…and the child had died. There were not many days that Sombra didn’t think of that thin, frozen face as the girl faded away, and there were even less days that she spent without pondering what would have happened if she hadn’t been a wolf. That usually ended with the conclusion that they would have both died and much sooner. Still…the world may have been a better place in her absence? But they’d have to deal with her until someone finally succeeded in killing the she-wolf. Returning to the here and now was sometimes difficult though but with some effort Sombra did. The steady gaze she had fixated upon his profile was the equivalent to having captured him in a sense. He could not turn his face to stare back, or more appropriately, he wouldn’t. Though Sombra knew the difference between being stared down and looked at she had not made any comment prior to this encounter.

As she stiffly made her way to the other end and brought her worn body to the cushions of the sofa, managing to stifle the groan that threatened to escape her muzzle. Of course each movement was like agony but that pride she nursed required that she not enunciate any such pain. She settled with a slow exhale as she finally did come to rest on the plush surface. Restricting her urge to stretch as it was probably a bad idea – enough to make her yelp anyway, she stared blankly at the television screen, the light flickering across the she wolf’s immaculate features. Vaguely aware of his inquisitive glance, she made herself face forward long enough for him to get his eyeful. He then ascended, rising to his feet to go God knows where but before he departed his palms moved to her side, and she instinctually snapped her head around as if to bite his hands but stopped short. Yes the action had induced some fairly impressive pain. Her eyes glazed over though she managed to watch him leave before collapsing back to the sofa.

As it seemed he was gone, she allowed herself to appear as drained as she felt. Her eyelids hung halfway over her dazed stare and she dozed – painfully still in the action, but the throbbing in her ribs was enough to keep her from sleeping soundly at this point. She was hoping that it would subside long enough for her to get an hour or two of rest. Though the scent of pork was enough to coax her from her hopeful musings, her nostrils quivering unabashedly as she began to salivate. Luckily for her she had the state of mind set to allow her to swallow when she felt she would begin to drool. She was aware of his moving around, the sound of his footsteps which made her lobes twitch thoughtfully with each motion he made and then silence….Sombra waited, a decade or so of hunting had taught her patience usually yielded the best results. Ah and there it was. He was moving again, towards her this time and so she made herself open her eyes fully and watch as the clothing and bedding was placed in front of her. Contemplating changing, she decided she’d wait until after the master of the house had gone to bed. It probably would not be a pretty sight, and would hurt bad enough to make her face contort in pain. Not to mention how slow and careful she would have to be getting dressed.

The warmth of the blanket was welcomed, even through her fur Sombra had that chill that stuck in her bones from being outside too long in the cold. Yes, the human was something of a pansy but she was especially aware of cold since she’d braved elements without shelter many times before. The chivalrous words of the Syrian reached her lobes and in response she simply stared at the wall – finding it a bit unsettling when she stared and he looked away. It was irritating and tiresome and her nerves were too tired to be tested. As he explained that he would want a summary of the night’s events she nodded once, a slow deliberate motion, and then digested as he told her how long the food would take and then suggested a movie. Sombra didn’t know what Bruce Almighty was but it would seem distasteful to reject it without something better in mind so she nodded and shifted as if to get more comfortable and prepare to lay there for another hour.

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

Bruce Almighty was not Jim Carreys best movie, Ace Ventura would always be his break through and all time great but Bruce was one of his better films these days. A Romantic comedy alongside Jennifer Anistan, the film was not spectacular though it had its moments. The smell of the pork though constricted Josef's senses to focus mainly on that. Most people needed timers to keep track of food. Were’s could smell when food was ready, an added benefit for their gift. Some could claim the Syrian abused his ability with how much he depended on it, Abad would reply that he was simply accepting what he had become. Relative silence had conquered the eve between Josef and Sombra. She needed rest and he was not truly in a talkative mood and normally when Josef talked, it was small strait to the point comments. He was a quiet person, when compared to other people though he had his moments where he seemed chatty. Standing, Josef passed Sombra and made his way back into the kitchen.

It had been awhile since he had any woman besides Enda in his home. Adela bolted from their pack, Melanie left with Mike and the teen was gone. Even when Adela had been around, the home remained strictly of Syrian distinction. Wooden furniture, incense, plants were present and the home was spacious. It was not crowded, not enclosed. In fact there were parts where it seemed empty and barren. Still it allotted enough room for a wolf to walk through without having to bump into anything. Wolves were after all large animals. Was it odd having a female in his home again? One much unfamiliar to himself though one who was undoubtedly stronger than Adela had been? Not at all. It was refreshing having an equal, someone who could, when she was 100%, stand toe to toe Josef on nearly every level. He could be himself. Pulling open the oven, he pulled the pork out, the onions nicely toasted, the cream cheese melted and slightly browned and the pork fully cooked. Did Sombra want a side dish? Mash potatoes, a vegetable? Probably not. So why bother making a side dish if it would go to waste. Honestly, he would not eat it either.

Pulling two plates, he set the meat on, grabbed a fork and knife for himself and walked back into the living room. He set his plate on the coffee table, yet set Sombras next to her. “It’s hot.” Josef warned. He was not concerned about her eating on his sofa, any mess could be cleaned up later. Though he did wonder if she would find it acceptable, he ultimately knew it would be. Meat was meat. Pulling his own plate onto his lap, he stuck the fork into the succulent meat and began to quietly eat. Even the Alpha was salivating within with each passing bite of the pork. Setting the fork and knife down, it had not been long since he finished. He had fed her, gave her some company but now she probably just wanted to rest. Too injured to go anywhere really, Abad took the empty plates into the kitchen, washed them quietly before coming into the living room one final time for the eve. “Take the Tylenol if you shift. Please drink something. Water, juice, soda, coffee, tea… I have it all. Help yourself to the fridge food, drink, anything you want. If you need me don’t hesitate to call. “

He left one final time, again adjusting the blanket up to Sombra's shoulders. Making his way up the stairs in the hall, he vanished into his room, declothed and quickly showered. Usually one for long showers, this one was quick. Enough to wash and then get out. Getting dressed in his blue night pants, made of Egyptian Silk, he flopped onto his bed with an 'ooof 'and stared up at his ceiling. Things were changing. Times were changing. Wolves were fighting on his turf. An Alpha had been attacked. He sneered at the thought of someone breaking his laws. Abad was instinctual but he was not foolish. He would find out who this rogue wolf was, plan and then deal with them. Right now, his concern was Sombra. To get her well first and foremost.

[*sombra delgadillo]

Even while Sombra did not glance at Abad she could tell from near rigid position that he was not paying much attention to the comic flick that was being presented on the silver screen. Naturally she couldn’t blame him; not one for the cinema herself she found her thoughts wandering. Her nostrils deciphering the ghostly scents that wafted about the room even beneath the cipher of the pork that continued to cook passively in the oven. Pushed aside the thoughts of hunger and food, she combed through each scent enough to recognize it should she ever encounter it again. Perhaps that was an odd practice but it was one she could no longer help. She was becoming not paranoid but more and more watchful when it came to all others. There were very few she felt were worthy of her trust though Josef Abad was growing on that list. After all he had not harmed her even in her vulnerability, not even in a verbal sense. He was maddeningly cordial and business like. Something she assumed he had gained through years of raining in temper and initial response. Her features were much less schooled – having a tendency to risk expression though what they expressed was up to her discretion.

It was simply not an option to be devoid of fervor. There was always something rattling around in the she-wolf’s brain. Always and who was she to deny her thoughts their right of passage around? She was only as much as she thought of herself. And that in essence was limiting – she was nothing and everything. The liberty and the cage. And that was both problematic and soothing to the individual. Sombra was a complex soul with a simple way of looking outwards. Her dependence on herself was absolute while she asked little of the world around her. In fact she depended so little on others that she could count on one hand how many people she could call in a scrape. Perhaps this was why she was unconcerned with her demise. There would be no one affected by it except herself and frankly she’d be dead so it wouldn’t matter. Her beliefs were not particularly developed – she believed in a divine creator but beyond that she was unsure. She was the sort that required proof, the kind that said “Trust is earned” and stuck by that concept.

Josef had fled the scene of the television, undoubtedly to wander back to the kitchen to check on dinner. That was such an odd thought for her to process – checking on dinner. Absolutely ridiculous. Dinner was a scavenger hunt in her experience, she provided what she required and nothing more. Sometimes there was nothing to be had and so her stomach had grown accustomed to being denied. She could forget to eat without any notice beyond an inevitable crash in her mood – something about blood and chemicals. Finally he returned and set the meal before her. For a long moment Sombra stared at her host, both with lethargy and gratitude as before. But of course she would eat. Directing her attention to the steaming plank of carnage she mechanically licked her chops and bit it – experimentally as her lobes twitched before she placed her paws on the plate – holding either side of the filet down before she tore away some. It was a feat for a wolf to eat politely but Sombra seemed to do it with grace – she was silent. On occasion there would be a clicking of teeth or nails on the plate as she shuffled them around to hold down the remnants but otherwise…flawless.

This skill had been developed not out of worry for mannerisms but for the sake of not being found while she was in mid meal. She liked her privacy when she was eating, and despised being interrupted. She must have been fairly glued to her meal because it was Josef’s voice that broke her from her trance. Glancing slowly up at him, her lobe ticked in response – one that said she was listening. He took her empty plate and now was speaking. At the extension of hospitality, her tail flicked with appreciation – something akin to a wag though with the obvious wolf discipline. He retired then, and Sombra listened to his receding footfalls carefully though she did not turn her head to watch him depart. When she heard his door shut she seemed to move the most she had since waking up. Gingerly sliding off the couch, she hobbled in a circle on the carpet, stretching out her sore, tense muscles for a few minutes and stretching – however painful the exercise was. An occasional whine or abrupt exhale denoted any such discomfort but beyond that the she-wolf worked out the issues and kinks in her muscles.

Turning, she stared long and hard at the doorway…nostrils quivering and her pupils slits as she waited for any sign of life that would witness her transformation. None. Good. It was a slow, painful process – the usual pops and snaps far more agonizing than they had been in a long time. Finally a naked redhead sat on the floor, her shoulders hunched – spent with the effort. Her hair fell in loose ringlets down her spine where goosebumps collected. Taking the clothing, she slipped it on all rather quickly for fear of being discovered exposed. Frowning – she realized that nature called…But Josef had never mentioned a bathroom. Surely he had one…Scowling, she plodded down the hall, nasal cavities searching for the most unwelcome of scents – stale urine. And there it was. Turning into the restroom, she emptied her bladder and washed her face before returning to the living room. Breathing a sigh, she took the suggested medication with a skeptical look crossing her exquisite countenance and moved to the kitchen, at which point she obtained a water, down the pills and returned to her “quarters”. Placing the bottle on the coffee table, she gathered the blanket left and then carefully laid back down. It was only when she was settled that she allowed her eyelids to droop as they so desired…It would be nearly twelve hours before the she wolf would reawaken…

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Tags: Josef
Tally: No idea
Comments: Sorry but the new pic gave me muse...

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

The night had gone by, uneventful though not completely restless. Abad had gotten some sleep, four to five hours before stirring awake around four. The night still controlled the sky, the moon was crescent and gave off very little light. The stars, which twinkled in the night sky were, much as they were every other night, drowned out by the glow of downtown New York. Ibn-Abads home on the outskirts told the tale of two lives. The first was living the life of a typical man. A business man who's incessant need to encroach on nature had caused its natural beauty to be put on a defensive stance yet the other half of the story was the tale of nature fighting back. The beast within Abad being one with nature and nature bringing the expansion of man to a halt. In all intensive purposes, the Beast always won. Nature was the primal force which would never be denied. When nothing was forever, there was no doubt that the natural order of things would always topple anything man created. Josef had not left his room throughout the night, instead giving Sombra full roam of the home should she want it. She deserved privacy. She got it. For this eve, he lay in his bed, the Syrians head nestled on his pillow while staring out of the window quietly. Boring, truly, the human seemed at peace with it but the wolf within was restless. The beast always wanted to play, always wanted to do something if he was not sleeping. After an hour or of quiet contemplation which was truly nothing more than his mind trying to still enough for slumber to return, the Arab stood, grabbed his laptop from his shoulder case and logged onto to the Bank of Luzons server.

The Bank had been running smoothly as of late. Out of the twelve people on the Board of Directors, most had been replaced along with nearly every financial manager. He had been able to pull of votes of no confidence in his counterparts while surviving two himself. Now the bank was filled with his business allies, allies who truly understood how dangerous it was to double cross Abad. His bank was a large portion of his life and its financial stability meant the stability of his personal income. An income which helped to ensure he could live a bit better than most individuals. No new transactions through the night, though a few clients were using their atm's. Nothing out of the ordinary; even his employees were inactive. Typically a bank had consistent activity or pending charges throughout the night, waiting for the next day to arrive when the systems would update and reflect but there was nothing in limbo. Inactivity was good in the banking world, it meant no one was trying to screw around. Bored, really, he shut off the laptop then glanced at the clock. It read six-thirty. He'd been on longer than he expected and a light grumbling from his stomach alerted him that the time for breakfast was coming. Listening quietly, he heard nothing which meant Sombra was probably still asleep. He knew she was still within his home, he could smell her.

Brushing his teeth, washing his face and using the restroom, Abad left his room and quietly made his way downstairs. He avoided the living room, a taboo issue would occur if he snuck in while Sombra was sleeping. Another Arab issue, men were not to be in the same room as a woman in slumber if they were not family. Decency and modesty were key after all and at the heart of almost every Arab mannerism. Taking the long route to the the kitchen, the tiles were cold against the soles of his feet yet the thought of a decent breakfast cast those momentary thoughts aside. Abad already decided what he wanted; chocolate chip pancakes, pomegranate juice and beef sausage. He made the dough first, it was quiet. Dumping in half a bad of hersheys chocolate chips, he pulled a frying pan out and got to work. The sizzling was light, quiet and quick work was made getting through half a dozen seven inch pancakes. The next bit was what really sent off smells and sounds the erupted in a euphoria of splendor against his senses.

Meat.

The sausage sizzled and scream as bits of it popped from the heat of the pan. The smell of cooking meat filled his nostrils while he could do little to nullify it or quiet it. He wanted Sombra to get her rest but depending on when she had gone to sleep, she probably got a good ten to twelve hours. For an injured wolf, that was a good amount but she could probably use more. Had she shifted? He didn't know but it did not matter. His eyes remained focused on the meat in the pan, watching it turn a light brown from the raw pink it had been. His jaw clenched as he eyes the cooking flesh, while his thoughts traveled to the Alphess. What mood would she specifically be in? If his cooking woke her, would she be irritated? An angry injured Alphess would not be the best way to start the morning and to say his nerves were not a slight on edge would have been an understatement.

[*sombra delgadillo]

Dreams are funny things, they can grant wisdom and bring about epiphanies, they can be frightening…and they can bring about the absolutely strangest topics. Sombra was no stranger to dreams, most ties they were rather peaceful unless she was hurt or upset. The good dreams involved quiet meadows on spring mornings where she was absolutely alone, and dozing beneath a large tree while birds chirped and deer frolicked nearby. The less gratifying dreams were filled with the cold, the soft, pitiful moans of her younger sister and a mass of enemies who multiplied as she defeated them…all while her sister whimpered to be fed. They were an impossible to have to process. There was no hope of ever overcoming those odds. She was afraid of losing her sister but if she could not fend off all of those monsters they would both be killed. And the result? Her sister died. Sombra? She lives on but is still fighting it – fighting off the anger, confusion and the hunger…And this is the bit where we get into metaphors. What is the hunger? Could it be her quest to find warmth? To fill her heart? What was the one thing that would complete the she-wolf…?

Sombra did not always sleep as well as she did that night. Laying on her spine with a blanket gingerly clutched to her chest which covered her all the way to her feet thanks to her bent legs. The crimson of her hair spilled over her shoulder and hung limp off the couch. Her mouth slightly agape but not wide enough to omit noise – Sombra didn’t snore, nor did she drool. Her sleep was almost what one would describe as systematic – it served its purpose and that was all. To be honest she slept very little, presenting symptoms not unlike an insomniac. The she-wolf was a strange creature but in this state she looked almost harmless…if not a little intimidating. It was probably the eyes – her gaze even when passively onlooking was fierce and calculative, raw and predatory. Though someone who knew Sombra for any extended period of time could tell that her nostrils flared when she was angry, and she had a habit of clenching her jaw when she was working to withhold frustration. Other than that she was like a duck on the water – pristine on the front but paddling like mad beneath the surface.

She was having one of her nightmares, and in fact she knew she was going to – but sleep was vitality and rest. So to be honest…it was a weighing of two evils. She was about to the portion where her sister screamed for her and then...Ssssss. In wolf form Sombra glanced up within the haze, the monsters too paused in their steps and glanced in the general direction of that foreign sound. It vanished or was drowned out by the youth’s wails and so they got back to brawling. And then again Sssss. This time the woman jerked awake with a soft grunt, nearly falling off the furniture in the process. The movement it took to save herself from certain peril however was enough to jerk her ribs. She groaned audibly and lay very still for several long moments as she breathed slowly as she listened to the sound of him cooking and the scent of the meat in the pan. Rubbing her eyes, her mouth split in a wide yawn which probably would lead to a form of stretching but she’d thought that over beforehand. Stretching would mean a lot of pain. Glancing to the side as she gathered inspiration to rise and confront her rescuer she inhaled the aromas that were wafting through the air.

Hey at least he can cook. Rolling her eyes at her own dry, sarcastic humor she placed her palms flat on the sofa and pushed herself up rather than using her abdominals. She was avoiding breathing deeply and much stretching. Another yawn denoted her sleepiness but she stood nonetheless. Running her articulations through her auburn locks in a habitual motion, wincing as the action induced the stretching of her diaphragm. Blinking drowsily, she wandered towards where she assumed the kitchen was and arched a brow as he came into view. Leaning against the door jam, she very carefully folded her arms and sighed. She didn’t speak however, no to be honest she was not a morning person and even on a bright and shiny day she didn’t talk incessantly. The Alpha female was eyeing him thoughtfully but wasn’t looking for words so much as time to speak. There was nothing for her to say at this moment…though as she thought of it she reasoned that a thank you would be in order. How she despised such niceties. Still – best pretend she was gracious; ”Thanks.”



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Tags: Josef
Tally: 800
Comments: outfit! ...

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

“Thanks.”

He heard her voice before he sensed his presence. She walked lightly though he should have been able to hear her slightly labored breathing. He gave a passing glance over his shoulder to see her leaning against the doorframe, her eyes locked on him as he cooked. So his cooking did wake her. ‘Damn.’ He thought quietly as he turned his attention back to the sausage. “Not a problem. Did you take the medicine?” Josef asked a loud. “After breakfast, Ill warm up the heating pads to help relax the muscles through your body. You’ll be sore for a long while it appears.” He did not mean to come off as a know it all, or in that matter a lecturer. Obviously Sombra understood what happened to her body . She was an alphess and could have deciphered that for herself. Pulling the pan from the stove, he put the sausage on their plates, next to their pancakes. The smell continued to fill the immediate area, still drowning out most other scents – still there was no problem. Even if another wolf appeared at Josef’s front door, and they were known to do so, it would be foolish to try anything with two Alpha’s around. Even an Injured Alpha could fend for themselves better than some wolves. It was in their blood.

Having washed the pan, he grabbed two glasses filling them with juice. He left the room, passing Sombra quietly and set them on the coffee table before returning to the kitchen, grabbing their utensils and plates then heading back into the living room. “How did you sleep? Well?” he asked as he took a seat on the same part of the sofa he had earlier. Flipping the television on, he turned it to the local news station which was showing exit polling of voting going on. Ibn-Abad had forgotten today was election day for most New Yorkers in the off year election though it did not truly matter. He was a conservative but did not vote. No Matter who was put into office, they would probably be a screw ball. From his many years of observation the Syrian learned that when it came to American Politics, political office corrupted nearly every man and the whole red and blue simply ran together making everyone in every office purple. There was no difference, no morality when money was flaunted into peoples faces. Still, politics was not what he wanted to talk about.

“What happened last night? Well first things first, the Bureau cleaned up the mess in the alleyway.” Josef could not know for certain but given their track record, after a call was made they would have been on scene immediately. “Who was the woman I found you with?” His eyes glanced up at the ring which rested on the table. “A friend of yours? Acquaintance? Someone you stumbled across? And what in Allah’s name happened to you? Who took you on? Vampire? Human?... wolf?” Josefs accent flared with the word of wolf. He had a strong suspicion and if it were true, it meant this Alpha would be out for blood. He still needed Sombra to say it, to admit to it. He was not dealing with a lower ranking wolf, Delgadillo was an Alpha so the entire issue took a whole new twist. “Lets start over. What happened last night? And why?”

It was here that he pulled his plate onto his lap and began to cut up the pancake. "Forgot the syrup. Be right back." Ten seconds, perhaps less passed before Josef returned, setting the tube on the table and turning his attention back to Delgadillo.

[*sombra delgadillo]

It was not news to Sombra that she had a nasty habit of catching people by surprise. It was a learned skill – one that she had brought into practice years upon years ago and that had turned into a habit rather than a practice. She used to have to focus to turn that particular thing on – the stalking, feather-light steps. Now? Now there was no turning it off. If Sombra could hear her own steps then she wasn’t treading softly enough; it genuinely bothered her to be able to be heard. In that right she had lived up to her name. Yes indeed, lived up to it more than her parents could have dreamed. Though it was somewhat ironic that her wolf was white rather than black. White with blue eyes of all things. That’s supposedly impossible for purebred wolves. Perhaps it was the human gene responding to the wolf…But there was no science that could say why her eyes were blue and not some other organic color.

Her brows were high aloft her forehead as she observed his antics, though it seemed he had noticed her even though her word had been hushed as it often was in the mornings. Something about having slept all night always made her voice rusty or hoarse. Some women would be irritated by this…Sombra couldn’t care less. The flippant way he dismissed her appreciation was something of a relief – it was an awkward exchange in any approach; theirs had minimized the length of time they spoke of her salvation. Which is a funny way to put it. In Sombra’s mind there was no salvation – no one was coming to save her. When she was fifteen or so she would dream of some strong captivating man coming to her rescue. And when nineteen came around and she’d had her taste of reality she realized those fairy tales were lies. Lies to comfort children so they might not shoot themselves in the mouth in junior high when life turned out to be hellish.

Almost visibly shaking herself of the dark musings, she realized he’d posed a question and she nodded quietly though she realized he would not see the affirmative indication. ”I took them.” It was an informative statement neither wordy or sentimental. At the mention of administering heating pads the she-wolf inwardly flinched ; pressure on her body right now seemed out of the question, she was sore everywhere. It was a cliché – for her to be so frail following such a pedestrian fight only to be snatched out of death’s door by some handsome knight in shining armor. So cliché, in fact that she was certain there was a catch. She was on the lookout for that…Though staying in tune to his words was keeping her somewhat busy as well, and it was when answering that she began to realize how much of a recluse she had become. Josef spoke very little and she spoke even less.

”I slept for much longer than I have in the past, thank you.” It was said again with casual, almost dismissive thanks. These questions were ones that a grocer might ask a customer as it was being checked out, questions that held no real sincerity or care for the answer but they seemed polite to ask regardless. She followed him to the living room lazily, biting her tongue to hold back the words of protest as he carried her food and drink – she was perfectly capable. Seating herself on the floor this time, she silently began to cut her pancakes absent-mindedly. Sombra was odd; she had to cut all of her pancakes up before pouring syrup on them only because she hated them soggy. She did not become distracted with the buzzing sound of the television as he turned it on – though she sensed a trend of constantly having the electronic on…for no apparent reason. Again she didn’t comment. It was his next question that made her turn her attention from her food to him. She blinked slowly as he fired off question after question, glancing to her food and then him again. Breathing a sigh, she sat back – glad she hadn’t gotten a chance to pour her syrup – and winced; balancing herself on her palms.

”There were two there when I arrived. The dead one was still alive at the time but mortally wounded. The other was a bit older – both older than I – and they’d been involved in an altercation. Didn’t like the look of the one standing with the knives so we fought and I obviously lost.” It was a haphazard description of the events; she had no thoughts of retribution or a rematch on her mind; she didn’t care. Vicious meant nothing to her and had failed in even scraping the surface of the Alpha’s ego. She very calmly brought her attention back to her meal and devoured the first sausage; chewing thoughtfully and soundlessly as she did most things. Good morning Shadow.


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Tags: Josef
Tally: 831
Comments: MUSE...^_^

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

"When will our species learn?" Abad began while he continued to eat. There were some things that irritated the Syrian more than anything when it came to the perception of his species. Modern media portrayed Werewolves and Vampires as deeply gothic creatures who ran around with swords and guns, lurking in the shadows and ready too strike. It did not help when movies like Underworld and Twilight smashed and butchered the reputation of what Wolves were; though the creators of such novels, games and movies had no real idea that what they thought was simply fiction was in fact true. Odds were if they truly met a Wolf, they would piss themselves. So learning that a wolf was running around like some psychotic emo lunative with knives. So cliche'! "When can we begin to be original. Why are there people running around with knives? How.... dull.... boring... and unoriginal."

Still, the wolf knew how to use them as another wolf lay dead and Sombra was severely injured. Still, there was an emo wolf running about with Knives - being everything they should not and causing problems on Josefs turf? Even Adela had learned to respect the rules that Ibn-Abad had set up for New York. He put her in her place quick, fast and in a hurry when she overstepped her bounds. This new wolf would be no different. Knives or not, Ibn-Abad would handle her. Nice and easy like. "What's next? A wolf thinking they can turn into a monsterous beast like in Underworld? Just what I need, fanboy wolves wanting to live up to cliche means." The news never showed anything about mysterious murders in New Yorks. In all honesty there were so many murders and muggings daily that a woman in an alleyway was nothing new. There was no doubt though that the Bureau was probably canvacing the scene. They would soon learn there where other wolves involved though Ibn-Abad had no intention of telling them it was Sombra.

Known Alpha's had special files with the government. Considering they were the strongest, wisest and obviously most influential in the wolvin community it was only natural that the FBI keep an eye on them. From his understanding, each Alpha had a special surveillance team tracking their movements, keeping an eye out and watching over them. Josef typically lost his tail and these days they seemed to only follow him when they were board. They could find him at his home or his work if they needed him. Today though, on this morning, they where not near his home. It would have been stupid; being so close when he was int he company of another Alphess. They would not know but Josef would have lashed out. Whether Sombra wanted it or not; she had a protector until she was able bodied enough to carry herself. This was where he decided to try and liven the mood.

"Please do not tell me you had packmates that ran around as though they stepped out of a science fiction movie?" He laughed. "It's bad enough when stray wolves fill that role but I think I'd have to actually kill anyone who ran around like that in my pack. Hell, if I ever crossed a Vampire with the name Lestat, I'd have to hold myself back from taking the precious time in torturing them." Obviously Abad was not one for small talk but he could not continue to beat a dead horse by constantly asking about the prior night. He had picked up the various scents; so if he met this rogue wolf again, Abad would have no problem deciphering who they were. "It is nice to see you again though, however, I wish it were under better circumstances." he laughed. "So tell me, besides the fight last night. How have you been?"

[*sombra delgadillo]

Wouldn’t it be nice if things were always as simple as they appeared? What if, for example, if a rock was just a rock? Could the human race accept this or would they try to place greater value on said rock? If you guessed option B you would be correct – they’d probably try to say that some guy named Smith found God’s word under the rock in the form of a book. Can you even put a book under a rock without it being utterly obvious? Though Sombra had no qualms with the religious. It was all about what was plausible. And overcomplicating life just wasn’t in the cards for her. She genuinely had no interest in making things more difficult than they were. Then again she was a highly complex creature herself so the state of mind probably seemed more than a little hypocritical. It was plain to see that she was in fact difficult to figure out, not some smiling face whose exterior was far more interesting than her interior. I suppose to speak shallowly she was quite attractive…but as most women she liked to think that there was something of more substance going on in her head. Of course….the wolf was there. And who could take an interest in such a beast?

Beyond a circus, anyway. Somewhere inside she genuinely believed there was too much brokenness to ever have a hope of anyone but herself being a constant. Even Mercer had become absent. Then again she didn’t blame that particular wolf. He was absent of all things beyond the endearing childhood memoirs. Positively maddening tidbit about him – Mike was impossible not to like. Except perhaps for his predisposition to tolerating vampires. Sombra didn’t care either way, it was his business except when they were around each other and he smelled of them. Rumor had it he was in a relationship with one…Every time she smelled it her nose wrinkled. Smelled like utter crap and frankly she’d rather not be caught in the presence of any such smell. The blood on their breath she didn’t mind…it was the whole decaying flesh thing that bugged her. They smelled of corpses and no one really enjoyed staying with a rotting corpse. Unless you were a vampire. It really was an interesting lifestyle, she mused. Then again that was neither here nor there.

The here and now as yet another stupid adventure that happened when the wolf controlled her. The wolf was her, she knew this, but it had not even the vaguest similarity to the human. The human was quiet, unassuming and preciously compassionate. The wolf? Exactly the opposite. Like fire and ice they clashed but…took care of eachother. Breathing a sigh, the she-wolf gazed out, dismissing her dull thoughts disinterestedly, as he spoke rhetorically. They were speaking calmly as they ate their breakfast – a completely lazy situation that held really no promise of danger which was probably why she still felt peaked and a bit dispassionate. She was exhausted. Consuming her meal in itself was something to tire her out despite the fact that he was trying to be mannerly and make small talk. Smirking at the mention of knives being unoriginal, ”Blow torches are always more fun.” It was stated with morbid amusement. She was eating silently now, certain he was thinking to himself while she simply tried to rest. Even her eyelids were drooping at this point…To be honest, Delgadillo was put out by exactly how exhausted she found herself so quickly. The lack in stamina was a testament to how long she’d been going already…

It was clear that if she had given herself more time to rest in the past she would be healing more quickly now. But she was ragged and the insomnia made her body a bit reluctant to rush difficult healing processes. The fact that the bone had had to be put back inside of her was probably part of the complication. And there we were again; back at the issue with complicating things. Frustrating idea that. At the mention of her pack having been science fiction freaks she paused and glanced up at him for a moment. Shrugging dismissively, her response was quietly murmured. ”They were all a bit dysfunctional but not fiction enthusiasts by any means.” It was dryly spoken and clear that she’d made absolutely no emotional connection to them. They were gone and that was all. He was a conversational wolf though, Josef, and he was talking again. Arching a brow at the question, she smirked again. ”I have been average. And yourself?” She stood then, taking her plate and empty glass and moving back to the kitchen – her steps measured. She was probably pushing herself but the wolf despised being cooped up…and if she had to stand still while being cooped up the heads would roll.

Rinsing off her dirty dishes, she returned a few moments later and gingerly lay on the couch with a ragged sigh, staring at him through slits of half opened eyelids. While sleeping would probably be necessary sooner than later staying awake was obviously more entertaining. Her body wasn’t so keen on remaining conscious but Sombra rarely listened to what her form wanted. Stubborn woman that she was. In my opinion it was probably a good thing – her body was a bit worn out…and may have very well wanted to just call it quits in that alley.



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Tags: Josef
Tally: 905
Comments: ^_^

[Josef Ibn-Abad]

He did not have enough time to reply to her question before she stood and walked out of the room, taking her dishes. Abad would have objected yet he held back. If she wanted help, she would have told him. That was all there was too it. He watched her steps, anticipating that there would be problems... and he was right. Sombra was slower with her right step, or so it appeared. The muscles in her ribs were slowly reforming but the tension mixed with the agonizing pain that came with healing would cause every other muscle group through that side of the body to stiffen. She was exhausted though had he not noticed a particular area of her body in which he allowed his eyes to glance, he may have kept the gaze upon her as she left. Even Abad was caught a tad offguard by his actions. He was one who very rarely believed in the subconscious or specifically natural actions caused by the subconscious. He believed in the primal nature of a wolf, the wolf that he was and every action he performed had a specific reason behind it; even the passing glance at Sombra Delgadillo's... rear. The morality of the issue got a brief internal scolding of himself but it did not consume him. She was a female. A tough one at that, one whom in her prime could stand toe to toe with the Syrian. She was dominate and strong and the fact that she was severelly injured did nothing to quell that aura. People took their licks. Sombra took hers and Josef occassionally got his.

He listened as she washed the dishes while flipping through the channels, turning it specifically to the History Channel. She had made the statement that she had been avaerage as of late. Average was better than bad off thought not as good as settled. Still she was a survivor and a testament once again to her resiliancy. When she reentered the room, she retook her seat and Ibn-Abad felt the gaze fall upon him. This time he met it, though had any other Syrian been here; they would have thrown a fit. A man meeting a womans gaze. How inappropriate! It was obvious that Josef was not a conformer and did as he pleased. Still Sombra had become one of a very select group of women who would get direct eye contact with him. Not even Adela, where she was, would get this treatment. "I've been ok. Not great but obviously alive. Whatever that grants me, I do not know but hey... we're both still breathing." There were few wolves who could understand the complexities that Alpha's faced. Even in the comfort of a home, it was like walking on egg shells when they first fell into converse. Right now it was an adjustment period. Josef had never met a female of his caliber, his strength and demenour and it was apparent Sombra had not stayed in a territory like New York for such a long duration. Had she been here ever since their last meeting? Had she left and then comeback? He wanted to ask but resisted. For now it did not matter.

Sombra reminded Josef of Spartans. No, not the whole Battle of Tripoli where three hundred half naked men died. There was a specific aspect of Spartan society that was very rarely recognized and when it was, it was almost always given in a passing 'Not a big deal' sort of way. Spartan Women were raised fighters, trained to hold their own against their male counterparts. What set Spartan society apart was that couples were connected based on equality. A stronger woman would never have a weaker husband. A stronger man would never have a weaker wife. The genders had to have an equal who stood with them in strength, toughness and intellect. This meant women were highly closed off until the found the right people whom they deemed their equal. What did this say about Sombra? She was probably analyzing him as much as he was her. Trying to figure which buttons were off limits, though when it came to Abad, the Syrian would discuss pretty much anything he wanted. Undoubtedly he was doing the exact same thing. "When you need to rest, take my room. The bed will be much better than the sofa. I guarantee it." Josef had guest rooms but one had been turned into a study, another a office. It was Syrian custom to offer their bedrooms and unlike most single men, who lived half sloppily, Abad was a neat individual. Still he gave her no time to object to his offer before he continued.

"Though I do think you have an appeal in my clothing, I am sure you would want something more to your liking. When you are well enough, we will head out and get you some clothes too wear." Abad explained. "Unless you would not mind continuing to wear my stuff? I have no objections either way." More hospitality which continued to flow ever so naturally from the accented words of the Arab. Still there was one thing he would do with Sombra, something he had felt enticed to do upon their first meeting.

Hunt.

"New York as white tailed deer. They were reintroduced into the area in the late 1800's. Several herds roam the mountains of upstate New York." He smirked, "When you can shift, we'll go... have fun." Was there a better way to size up another Alpha? "Unless you would rather rumble around the backyard? Don't let the fact I live a city life fool you. I know my way around the woods better than most Wolves." The comment was made half jokingly, half serious. Sombra was a wanderer and Ibn-Abad understood she had a handle on the outdoors better than he though he had a handle on the outdoors better than every other New York Wolf. He did not mind a challenge, and in fact it would be just that. What wolf could resist such? Was it pride that compelled Josef? Was it showmanship or was it something along the lines of him wanting to prove himself to his counterpart, to this female? Perhaps all or perhaps the last? He could not quite figure out why but the comments were made. When Sombra got better, it would be her call as to what they would do.

Tag: Sombry, you're it ^^
Word Count: 1085

[*sombra delgadillo]

Do you know that sensation you get when you’re being watched? The prickle on the back of your neck and that uneasiness that comes with being scrutinized? Sombra was well aware of the fact that Abad was probably watching her progress – painful as it was to the kitchen. It wasn’t a twisting in your side, knife wound sort of pain…it was that familiar ache, one that meant she had involved herself in something danger and potentially life threatening. Then again…living was life threatening was it not? Being out among the pedestrians and the light of day was one of the riskiest steps one could imagine. How, then, would one propose safety could be achieved? Through holing one’s self away from the world in entirety? No that was not an option. Sombra had been inside for a whole fifteen hours or so and already was anxious. She could not bring herself to stand the domestic realm too long. It was difficult to stomach. Difficult for her handle that defined taste in her mouth.

Breathing a sigh she stressed quietly as she reseated herself though it was always difficult to tell just what emotion that Sombra actually felt. The wolf did a brilliant job of squashing all readable fervor…and that was because it mixed its own sensations with the human’s. Sombra Delgadillo was clearly very much the wolf though it was obvious that the human lingered in there somewhere. The very way she moved was a testament to the risk of being in her company. Not that she was unstable…she was simply unpredictable. It’s always difficult to define people, so hard to say what they are…but much easier to discuss what they are not. It’s a genuine social convention to define by the negative; “she looks horrible in that!” informs the listener of the negative but does not supply what the speaker would submit was a good wardrobe choice.

It was the social mistake of the millennium and so counterproductive. Perhaps this was why she could not coax herself to engage in modern society. Or really any society where glorified tramps were the status quo. However, something coaxed her from her dry, absolutely pessimistic musings – Josef was staring back. If she recalled correctly this would be one of the first times if not the very first that her gaze had been returned and it was as though she had looked at his eyes for the first time. She caught “still breathing” which would suffice in summary for his response. She had not noticed previously but they were rather fierce, so much so that she nearly smirked with amusement. Perhaps that was an Alpha trait but there was a difference, granted, in being self righteous and snobbish and being a beast. Alphas of any worth were classed as the latter. Leaning heavily on the couch, she listened reticently now at the mention of her needing rest – somewhat annoyed with the idea of her being so weak as to come off a twelve hour nap with a need for rest. She nodded solemnly, her pride infuriated by his words but her response dignified as it ever was. Perhaps that was the wolf…perhaps it was the human.

And despite the absolute dormant state of her gaze the she-wolf herself was sizing him up. As both an adversary and an ally. Forgive me but her thoughts were not prone to romantic notions. In fact it is usually when she is most humans that she notices human things. The wolf however is far more calculative – weighing pros and cons of affiliation or confrontation. Sombra believed it would be in poor taste to brawl with her savior but then again morals were morals – should he step out of the boundary of her belief he would be subject to what any pedestrian would be, regardless of his previous actions. But for now he had been rescued from the otherwise hostile beast. In lieu of the circumstances it seemed fitting, and not at all week to let peace reign in the instance. It was after all a potentially incriminating situation, one that would cause the human to blush if the wolf wasn’t so skilled at schooling her expression. The words that were put to use regarding her clothing actually might have induced that blush and the wolf’s gaze intensified only to tick away towards the television though her interest as usual did not rest in the electronic device. When you are well enough…The words stung enough to cause the beast to direct its almost daring stare back to the Syrian. Daring him to refer to her as anything relating to weak. Oh yes, Sombra was well adjusted to being afflicted but in the company of another? No. She was not socially inclined anyway but wounded? Welcome to hell.

At the mention of leaving she brightened, visibly glancing in the direction to the front door as her wolf keened inside to be free of the architecture. The amused way he spoke of hunting received a mildly amused “heh” though another nod affirmed the idea. It would be getting her to stay in the vicinity once she was outdoors that would be the trick. She presumed though that he was speaking of their parting as much as anything, an occasion she neither mourned or looked forward to. It was, after all, the pleasing prick of apathy that kept her going, wasn’t it? At least that’s what they say. Frigid bitch. That was Sombra wasn’t it? That was the problem with only knowing the one side…Even Mike only knew the wolf…but he’d caught it early and so probably comprehended her current state better. It was somewhat tragic, how trapped the beauty was in the beast.



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Tags: Josef
Tally: 952
Comments: I was listening to Zoe Jane by Staind D: