Owen
Rogue Werewolf
Advertising Executive
All my talk of starting over, these words were never true.
Posts: 44
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Post by Owen on Mar 8, 2008 2:18:16 GMT
For the first time in his life, Owen Filby wished he carried a gun, or something offensive beyond his keys, which really had no range and no hope of standing up to anything remotely like what had just attacked him. As bizarre as it was to be achieving full trains of thought when he knew for a fact that he had to be in shock, he actually found himself realising how pointless a gun or knife probably would have been, how ineffective they would have ended up being against something as strong as whatever it had been. Owen’s mind conjured words like ‘monster’ and ‘demon’, not that he was religious any more, nor did he believe in things that went bump in the night, but either someone had been breeding unbelievably large dogs — or possibly dog-wolf hybrids — or the scepticism that had been with him for decades was ultimately misguided.
‘Pain’ honestly wasn’t the word, his startled mind unable to conjure something more fitting as he stumbled against an expensive Astin Martin and looked wildly behind him, panicked that the thing would be following him, stalking him before it could drag him into the darkness to finish him off. The thought was enough to provoke another burst of fearful adrenaline, and he limped desperately away from the vehicle, leaving an obvious smear of blood down its otherwise pristine door. His goal was in sight, and if he was lucky, he’d make it to the lobby before he fell down and died, a pathetic, depressing thought if ever there was one. He knew he was badly hurt; he didn’t need to even look at his injuries to figure out as much, the way muscle and even bone were exposed in choice places where too-large fangs had torn through his flesh and shaken viciously to do more damage than he had any hope of recovering from. He’d lost too much blood.
Owen didn’t expect to even make it to the door, but when he reached it, almost falling against it and leaving gory evidence of the collision in his wake, he grasped, fumbling madly and shaking uncontrollably, for the handle and wrenched it with all his strength.
That was when he remembered he needed a key. His key. Gripping the handle as if his life depended on it, panting unevenly and checking over his shoulder again as if he expected the thing to be looming behind him, grinning its feral grin, he started madly searching his pockets while trying to keep himself on his feet, cursing under his breath when he couldn’t find it.
Oh god, where was it?!
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Archie
Human
Departed
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty psyched
Posts: 35
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Post by Archie on Mar 8, 2008 2:52:15 GMT
Continued from: Marion’s Office – first floor of The Colony
He hadn’t wanted to cut short the interview – even though technically the interview was over and he’d gotten the job there and then – because despite that there was still plenty he wanted to do. Archie had wanted to take a better look around the place, to check on her supplies, food, items, the state of his new working area and create the sort of mental lists he would need of items for tomorrow, when they got down to the brass tacks of the business. Time had passed quicker than he had expected though and Archie had needed to leave if he wanted to get back to the Red Tree with plenty of time to spare in order to cook and eat something.
Archie’s pace quickened as he moved towards the parking lot, mind going over what little he had seen of the way Marion ran her operation, and what he had already noticed needed replacing, refilling or down right throwing away when she wasn’t looking. The moment he came into sight of the parking lot, all thoughts of the past and lists were pushed out at the sight in front of him.
“Marion!” He’d turned to yell back, hoping that she was lingering near the door to make sure he had gotten out the building, inwardly surprised by how loud the shout had been; his lungs were improving, so clearly all that walking when he could to get to places was finally paying off. Even as he’d looked back though, Archie was moving forward, his eyes wide and somewhat shocked at the state of the man fumbling at the door. Not only at the wounds and the blood, the bleeding everywhere, but the fact that the man was even standing at all when logically, Archie was pretty sure he should be unconscious at the very least. The young man reached for his phone as he neared the door, fingers shaking a little from the sheer surprise of it all, and mild panic which was best saved for later.
He had a decent enough grasp of First Aid, enough so that he could at a stretch, patch up a broken bone or two until someone with a proper degree could take a look at them but he had nowhere near the level of competence needed here. Emily was right; he should have become a famous doctor.
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Marion
Human
Departed
Posts: 119
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Post by Marion on Mar 8, 2008 3:02:47 GMT
Marion had been casually moving to the front of her office to lock her door behind Archie when his cry came from the hall. Without pausing, she pushed through her doors and skidded around the corner in view of the lobby. The scene that met her eyes made her throat constrict and her mouth go dry. It was Owen - a friend from the building... and he looked... no.
She got to Archie's side and the cuts and blood told her everything she needed to know - more than she'd ever wanted. Her emotions left her as her "Bulldog" persona she was famous for took over. If she was right, they had to act fast, because they were all going to be in real trouble - most for Owen.
She slapped the phone shut before Archie could dial. "Do not call an ambulance. Trusting me starts now, Archie, please. I know what he needs. My phone's on my desk. Speed dial number seven - his name's Nate, tell him to come and now - the other..."
Cole. She needed Cole. First things first. "Go. Do it now, or so help me you're fired as of right now."
She moved to Owen's side, tucking her slight frame underneath him. "Owen hon - you want my attention, just ring the bell darlin'... come on.. keep coming, just a little further.."
Oh god... its just like my Dad...
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Owen
Rogue Werewolf
Advertising Executive
All my talk of starting over, these words were never true.
Posts: 44
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Post by Owen on Mar 8, 2008 3:21:14 GMT
Owen hadn’t even noticed there was anyone at the door until it moved under his touch, and he had given a strangled yelp despite himself, almost toppling back from the sheer surprise at the arrival of other people. People! Abandoning his fruitless search for his key, as agonising as it had been given the state of his left arm and the fact that he had been using that hand to dig in his pockets, he turned wide hazel eyes on a face he recognised. Marion. Thank god. He would regret the choice of words, even if only mentally, later. If there even was a later. Given the fact that even he could smell the overwhelming amount of blood, he was seriously doubting that prospect, which scared him more than he cared to admit.
Gasping and wincing as Marion slotted herself under his right side to support him, he almost clung to her like a child before he realised he wouldn’t be helping the situation if he collapsed them both under his wounded weight, and so he restricted himself to leaning on her and trying to hobble as best he could. The pain in his leg had reached excruciating levels; he almost wished it wasn’t there anymore, it had reached such a point.
“Marion, it—” His voice caught, dry and more than a little raw from his initial reactions to the attack; he was pretty sure he’d screamed, something he knew for a fact he had never done before. “It was huge!” he finally stammered, from equal parts shock and disbelief. “Oh, god…”
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Archie
Human
Departed
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty psyched
Posts: 35
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Post by Archie on Mar 8, 2008 3:32:38 GMT
He hesitated for a moment, torn between calling for an ambulance or calling for Nate – whoever Nate actually was. There was no time to hesitate, Owen clearly didn’t have the time and the indecision that had mere seconds ago showed clearly in Archie’s eyes faded, a harder, determined expression replacing it. The paralegal might not have had the reputation that Marion did, or even very much experience with bulldoggish behaviour but he could be as stubborn as the next man.
When it came down to it, against everything, Archie believed in Marion, trusted her despite the threat to fire him and his choice in the end wasn’t motivated over the fear that he would lose something he hadn’t yet had time to fully enjoy or even mentally come to terms with but the fact that she hadn’t yet killed anyone and Owen clearly needed some help. If Nate could help better than a regular ambulance, then Nate would be the person to call.
With nothing more than a tense little nod, he turned and practically belted back up to her office, concentrating on keeping his breathing even and steady rather than the two he had left behind him and the trail of blood they were leaving behind them.
Continued in Marion’s Office – first floor of The Colony
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Marion
Human
Departed
Posts: 119
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Post by Marion on Mar 8, 2008 3:47:52 GMT
The words Owen spoke made any hope lingering in Marion's heart die. Her blood turned icy. It was a werewolf attack then. "Easy, Owen." She kept her voice light as she could, and as steady. "You'll be okay, I promise you. You'll be okay. Just stay with me, Owen - come on." She tried not to stagger as she came through the door Archie'd left open and moved into her office area. There was a small couch in the corner and she carefully helped Owen to it.
"Sit... easy does it.. easy." He'd be going into shock soon, and the lycanthropy would be blazing through him. Whether he'd turn tonight.. probably too soon. Her own safety wasn't a concern, but Archie's was. She looked him up and down - the leg was the worst, she could see the bone edge. Nate would have to set it fast, before it began to heal. He had a large wound in his chest where the shirt had been torn open, the fang marks were obvious - and various other tears bled. Most of the injuries were defensive... it looked like the wolf had grabbed his leg, and he'd been shaken... his arm had teeth slashes and the bicep was ragged, torn through to the muscle. Her stomach rolled. He has to calm down first.
"Owen hon, look at me. Look at me." She gently placed bloodied fingers to his cheeks. "Owen, can you see me? Answer me."
Archie, quick, I need help...
Continued in Marion's Office with Archie and Owen
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Archie
Human
Departed
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty psyched
Posts: 35
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Post by Archie on Apr 5, 2008 13:57:26 GMT
Continued from: Marion’s Office – First floor of The Colony
There was a lot of blood. That was all Archie’s dismayed mind could come up with as he stared from the door to the parking lot which bore evidence of trails of blood, not to mention a handprint of red on the handle itself. The door was nothing compared to the rest of the parking lot, Archie swallowing to keep the bile down as he traced the haphazard course Owen had apparently taken with his eyes, looking at the smears on the floor and the walls. Even one of the cars seemed to have blood on it and he closed his eyes a moment, mentally winching in sympathy at what the other man must have gone through just to get to the door.
It wasn’t going to clean itself up, and the longer Archie stood there just staring at all the blood then the more chance it had of drying. And if it became dry and hard then it would be next to impossible to clean off properly. With a soft sigh he propped the door open as best he could, resolutely not looking at the blood still clinging to the glass there. He kept his attention fixed on the areas around the blood as he slowly moved out into the actual lot, shoes clicking against the concrete and sounding terribly loud in his ears.
“It’s not a crime scene. It’s not a crime scene. It’s not a crime scene.” Archie kept chanting Marion’s words in his head as he reached the first spot of blood actually inside the lot. There was no way to tell how long the area would remain empty before someone came in and noticed the blood. He dropped heavily to his knees, ignoring the jarring sensation as the blood was slowly wiped clean.
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Archie
Human
Departed
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty psyched
Posts: 35
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Post by Archie on Sept 2, 2008 14:25:52 GMT
He wasn’t aware of how much time had actually passed, Archie forcing himself into an almost Zen like mindset in order to get through the cleaning. If he stopped to take note of things such as time, how hard he had to scrub to wipe away all the thick and glop like blood that stuck to almost every surface then Archie would also have to take notice of the sickening smell of the blood and the way droplets of the red had stuck to his skin, drying and flaking off. He didn’t want to have to think about the way in which his hands where blood stained, or the worry that was creeping through his body the longer he remained in the parking lot and cleaned away the signs of the attack.
Who knew what was going on back in Marion’s office? Almost anything could be happening to the injured man, he could be dead for all Archie knew. There was no real reason for him to trust Marion’s word and even less reason for him to trust the doctor they had called. For a few seconds Archie entertained the idea of simply walking out of the parking and not looking back. It wouldn’t take him long to get onto the main streets of the city and contact – somebody. To explain away his role of accessory in… whatever this was, by simple temporary madness and the fact he had been thrown by the way in which Marion had simply acted as if this was something she knew and understood, as if it was Archie who was the stranger in this very odd land. All it would take would be to drop the bloodied cleaning material down on the ground and just; leave.
Instead he was cleaning away the blood. Marion, for whatever reason, had decided to trust him on whatever this was and Archie was going to trust her back. The area looked cleaner now than it had before the blood, with at least one of the cars positively sparkling. If Archie didn’t know better he would have said his unconscious cleaning had tried to delay the inevitable, to returning back to the office. There was nothing keeping him here, alone, any longer though with even the blood on the door wiped painstakingly away. He gave his work a finale look over, almost pleased with the result – anyone would be hard pressed to know something had happened there.
Continued in: Marion’s Office – first floor of The Colony
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Alswytha
Rogue Werewolf
Former Alpha
Steeped in denial, the daily grind.
Posts: 79
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Post by Alswytha on Jun 5, 2010 15:39:11 GMT
POST TIMESKIP.
Not so long ago, Stanton, his bitch, and many of their misguided, ignorant followers had come here. It wasn't the first time since news had reached her ears that Alswytha had taken it upon herself to leave the building she and Gareth had claimed for themselves, their own little territory, and come here, to this place. It was outside of Stanton's territory, land he had boldly claimed for himself and his wolves, and yet their scents were heavy here. It would have been confusing if Alswytha hadn't heard that two humans lived here, two mortals who had been seen with werewolves on numerous occasions. Alswytha snorted in disgust. Humans working for werewolves. Disgusting. Degrading. Pathetic.
The shake of her head disturbed her loose, rustic curls, and the old she-wolf raked her gaze up the building. The Colony. It was a respectful enough living place, she supposed, and as she stood there taking it all in, she hunted past the scents of Stanton's wolves and the humans with whom he associated, only to find something curious beneath that tangled blanket. Interesting. There was another wolf here, at least one, a female if Alswytha was correct, and she had learned long ago never to doubt her nose or her instincts, and it was not only the former that told her another lycanthrope lived here but also the latter. Very interesting indeed.
Considering her age and experience, both of which she had in spades, Alswytha knew just how to analyse a scent, take it apart and pick out one thing or another, learn from it. The wolf within the building before her was female, yes, she knew that much and at any rate that was an easy one to ascertain, but Alswytha could also detect age, power, experience. The she-wolf dwelling within The Colony had years under her belt, which promised strength and pride. Very, very interesting. Perhaps, if Alswytha was lucky, she would catch a glimpse of her fellow lycanthrope.
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Demetria
Rogue Werewolf
'Entrepreneur'
Give me a reason to love you, give me a reason to be a woman.
Posts: 11
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Post by Demetria on Jun 5, 2010 20:36:22 GMT
Demetria was on her phone as she exited the elevator on the parking lot level, listening to her voicemail messages with a bored expression. It was a frequent thing for the Grecian she-wolf to feel restless, she got all pent up hanging around her apartment which was why she got her kicks at night, generally from stealing what wasn't hers and leaving the ridiculously short-sighted humans scratching their heads as to how someone could have made that leap or swung down from this ledge, how they could have gotten in and out without triggering alarms in their so-called foolproof systems. Ridiculous creatures. Demetria would never understand their inability to look further than the end of their noses. Then again it worked in her favour in the end, so maybe their ignorance was a blessing in disguise.
As she pushed out of the hermetically sealed glass door and into the parking lot proper she snapped her phone shut and wedged it back into the pocket of her short jacket. Then she stopped. A distinct scent was on the air out here. Werewolf. Again. Immediately the female tensed, expecting the worst, for Stathis to step out from behind some car or another and her pose shifted as if to defend herself, all in the blink of an eye, a heartbeat. Until her quick mind caught up with her quicker body and told her it was female.
She sighed. Maybe it was that pack hanging around again, maybe they'd come to pick up some other waif or stray. Maybe not though. As she walked she cast her green eyes about, not about to go looking for trouble with another wolf but more than prepared to act if trouble came her way.
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Alswytha
Rogue Werewolf
Former Alpha
Steeped in denial, the daily grind.
Posts: 79
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Post by Alswytha on Jun 6, 2010 15:42:09 GMT
Humans were nothing but a waste of space in Alswytha's very prejudiced opinion. She had never thought highly of them, and as years had gone by, she had come to realise that even wolves who had once been human were nothing but pests themselves. There was simply no comparison between a bitten wolf and one born into the world. True, there were exceptions to every rule, those like Stanton and his bitch, both born wolves but creatures who were so very beneath Alswytha and her mate. The mere thought of them was enough to chase an eerie, pale glow through her eyes only for it to be blinked away as the door opened and a female figure stepped out into the parking lot, revealing herself in the evening air.
Alswytha watched as the female tensed, immediately placing her as the she-wolf to go along with the scent that hung around the area, betraying the fact that she was a resident rather than a visitor. As she watched the other female adopt that ready pose, preparing for a fight almost, Alswytha took in everything that she could from her place just out of sight behind an SUV, smiling to herself when she was done. This was a strong she-wolf, proud and experienced, obviously trained when it came to defending herself. Interesting, not to mention promising.
Seeing no sense in skulking around like someone who had no business being there, she stepped out from behind the large vehicle and into the other wolf's line of sight, no hesitation or wariness about her, body held straight and tall with a hint of a smile on her lips. "This is a pleasant surprise," she said by way of greeting, looking the other female up and down from her new vantage point. "It's not often I run into a real wolf."
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Demetria
Rogue Werewolf
'Entrepreneur'
Give me a reason to love you, give me a reason to be a woman.
Posts: 11
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Post by Demetria on Jun 6, 2010 17:34:40 GMT
Demetria had simply never grasped humans completely; she knew what she needed to for her work, she could recognise in them things like arrogance and desperation but she had been brought up in the supernatural world and had never needed to have more than a baseline understanding of them. It certainly wasn't a mark against turned wolves in her book, though she did sometimes wonder if they really... got what a pack was, what it meant. It seemed to her a harder thing for them to grasp. They learned though, over time. Usually.
When she heard movement and footsteps Demetria turned her head, just in time to see the dark haired wolf before she started speaking, giving her a once over, something she recognised as the truest gaze of a predator, sizing her up. "Some of us would rather not slum it in downtown Los Angeles." Demetria said warily, appraising this female as she had done. Old, definitely. Older than her, she was certain. Part of a pack? She couldn't tell, she held herself like and Alpha female though, and Demetria would know. She turned towards her, one hand settling on her hip. "This isn't some pack business again is it?" She asked, a deeply affronted tone in her words; she would really rather that the packs keep their business in their respective realms of the city. "Because honestly, the whole point in living out here is to avoid all of that." Demetria gestured vaguely in the direction of the territories, watching for this other female's reaction to her question.
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Alswytha
Rogue Werewolf
Former Alpha
Steeped in denial, the daily grind.
Posts: 79
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Post by Alswytha on Jun 7, 2010 21:22:24 GMT
In Alswytha's mind, many born wolves failed to grasp what a pack really was, something that had been proven by so many taking the wrong side when the fight had ended all those years ago. Blinded, ignorant fools, believing in a pup and his female so naively, falling for all their fairytales and stories of peace and sanctuary. If it had been up to Alswytha, they would not only never have come to Los Angeles at all, they wouldn't have had to share a city in any way, certainly not with such a weak, shameful pack as the one led by another terrible excuse for an Alpha, another pup Alswytha was all too familiar with. Disgusting. She should have killed them both before they could even think to claim any kind of power for themselves. It was too late to change anything like that, though, and so instead she would simply have to wait for her chance to set things right.
Alswytha smiled at the other female's words, nodding in approval and agreement. Slum it. A curious way to describe life in a city like Los Angeles, but an apt one all the same. The same smile lingered on her face as her fellow she-wolf asked about pack business, but the edge of it changed, some of the amusement fading. "Not pack business, no." Not in the least. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. Checking her words carefully so as not to give too much away, she went on, "Been overstepping their boundaries a lot, I take it." It wasn't a question. Their stench was heavy in the air. Alswytha knew full well that pack wolves had been back and forth across this very lot at the least several times in recent weeks.
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Demetria
Rogue Werewolf
'Entrepreneur'
Give me a reason to love you, give me a reason to be a woman.
Posts: 11
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Post by Demetria on Jun 7, 2010 23:11:04 GMT
Frankly, though she kept her nose out of pack business, Demetria too cast disapproving eyes on the smaller of the packs. It was ridiculous, she could taste the tension from blocks away these days, the fear in there, the cold sense of dread. What the Alphas thought they were doing, she had no idea and she wasn't interested in finding out but she knew how to lead, she know how a pack ought to feel, her own had been sixty strong at least throughher childhood, living in their clifftop home in Greece, unchallenged by those with half a brain and victorious against those who got some idiotic idea into their heads that they had any chance against theAndreadis pack.
Demetria sighed. "They've been back and forth like a bloody yo-yo for the last month." The she-wolf didn't know the residents of The Colony, and frankly she didn't care to get to know them, they were transient and she was permanent, in simplest terms; she would be living for a very long time and they were little short lived sparks of life that she wouldn't remember in fifty years time so what was the point in getting to know them or being friendly with them? From what she had gathered one of the humans in the building had been attacked and putting two and two together with the massive amounts of blood she'd scented three weeks ago she assumed someone had been turned and the pack had dealt with it. So she should probably be thankful for the swift clean-up, even if it was a little out of the jurisdiction of either pack. "The word discretion escapes them, apparently." Some wolves didn't have the protection of a pack and had to keep themselves hidden from the human world all on their own, somethign that was hardly helped by such activity.
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Alswytha
Rogue Werewolf
Former Alpha
Steeped in denial, the daily grind.
Posts: 79
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Post by Alswytha on Jun 8, 2010 17:26:28 GMT
Alswytha hardly cared about all that discretion, and if anything she thought werewolves the world over had spent more than enough time skulking in the shadows avoiding detection. While it was true that humans had bombs and biological weapons, hatred and jealousy and greed in spades, wolves knew how to hunt as a pack, they were powerful and primal and deadly, and there was no contest, not at the end of the day. No comparison. Humans had no business being on top, not when they were so ignorant to the presence of the supernatural, creatures who were infinitely stronger and more worthy of leadership and recognition than they were themselves. That wasn't to say that Alswytha had any wild ambitions of taking over the world in the name of her race, of course she didn't, that was stupid, but some day she hoped to see things put to rights, where they ought to be. Survival of the fittest, wasn't they what they said? It was inevitable, really, the fall of mankind and the rise of the wolves. The vampires had already learned their place, and the time was approaching when mortals would do the same.
"Mm, it does at that," she agreed quietly, her eyes remaining on the other she-wolf. "It's hardly surprising. I would expect nothing less of them." That was all she said on the matter, giving nothing else away when it came to her connections with the city's largest pack before she offered her fellow female a smile. "But where are my manners? My name is Alswytha." An old name that hadn't been heard or used for many years, one of the biggest tells when it came to her age. The other wolf could offer her name if she liked, but honestly if she didn't then it was hardly a nuisance for Alswytha. She had her ways of finding out what she wanted to know. Cautious as this female was, it was entirely likely that whatever name she was registered under at the building in front of which they stood now was an alias of some kind.
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