walkingcrescentwulf

[walkingcrescentwulf]

“I’m not sure if that would be a good idea,” Nicholas said with a wince, “I want to remember this one, and feel it would take the teeth out of the personal lesson to just go get healed. I’m pretty sure it won’t scar too badly, if at all.” he then sighed and answered the question, “Predator spirits are assholes at times, and I need to start paying more attention rather than just following the pull of the Ithelunem. I didn’t get this particular lesson likely by sheer dumb luck before now. At least it wasn’t lethal, which it had a chance of being. I was unprepared and inattentive.”

Aftermath of Poking a Nose

Nicholas sat in a thankfully dark corner of the bar, having ordered a bloody steak and fries to go with it. He was more than just tired right now, and showed it. He wore his standard hoodie and jeans, though the Hoodie seemed new, and had a whiff of Essence to those who were paying attention. Newly attuned then. In addition he was wearing a face mask as if he were ill, though anyone who knew werewolf physiology would guess there was another reason. In his head he could hear the somewhat snarky phrase “Well, did you learn something” in a voice that he’d not truly heard in years. Yes, damnit, he’d learned something. It had him wishing, not for the first time, that he’d been of another auspice with his closeness to the Lunes. The Ithelunem were about wisdom and learning, but not really focused on the aftermath. He half wondered if his actions would gain him favor with the Irralunem, though he thought it would be problematic to do so. He toyed with the fork he’d been given in preparation of his food, half lost in his own thoughts.

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas looked up and nudged out a chair for his old friend. "There is a bit of a reason," he said, his voice tinged with pain and his words mauled a little. Taking a glance around to make sure people were not looking he pulled off the mask to show that his face had gotten raked by something recently, and the pink of new flesh was still there. The lines were mainly on the lower part of his face and, now that the "pattern" was visible, they continued down his neck and under his torso.

"I wanted to keep my head down for a bit. Least till i heal up fully." His words implying that he didn't want people to see him weak...or call in on the probability he did something stupid on one of his rambles...

Aftermath of Poking a Nose

Nicholas sat in a thankfully dark corner of the bar, having ordered a bloody steak and fries to go with it. He was more than just tired right now, and showed it. He wore his standard hoodie and jeans, though the Hoodie seemed new, and had a whiff of Essence to those who were paying attention. Newly attuned then. In addition he was wearing a face mask as if he were ill, though anyone who knew werewolf physiology would guess there was another reason. In his head he could hear the somewhat snarky phrase “Well, did you learn something” in a voice that he’d not truly heard in years. Yes, damnit, he’d learned something. It had him wishing, not for the first time, that he’d been of another auspice with his closeness to the Lunes. The Ithelunem were about wisdom and learning, but not really focused on the aftermath. He half wondered if his actions would gain him favor with the Irralunem, though he thought it would be problematic to do so. He toyed with the fork he’d been given in preparation of his food, half lost in his own thoughts.

[walkingcrescentwulf]

There was a flicker of a question in Nicholas’s eyes as he did so. He understood the aggression, being a new wolf in the area probably didn’t help Jair’s reaction to him. “So would it surprise you if I said that the other group I’d thought of joining was the Hunters?” He asked, maybe the kid just needed conversation, after all one did not know everything at a passing examination.

Smell of Iron, Taste of Dust, Sound of the Beat

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas openly chuckles, “Fair enough. At least you have looked and put some thought into it.” He gives a slight memory-laden grin, “What was it that I heard once? ‘Making a person go into medical or military if they aren’t suited will at best just get themselves.’ It was something like that.” He looked back to Jair, He then held out a hand, “Luck, and may the challenges you face be those that you can always learn from.” It was said as a blessing, hinting at the Iron Master adaptability, but also the path of Glory the Blood Talons walked.”

Smell of Iron, Taste of Dust, Sound of the Beat

Nicholas was just starting to find it for here. Turn a corner here, follow a sound there, turn from a smell yonder, trace a tag’s path hither. Meandering would be a word some could use for how he was moving. His black hoodie, slightly worn jeans, and tennis shoes made him meld, but that was vastly overshadowed by the air he kept about him. Several odd charms hung from bracelets, the air of something wrong, and let’s not forget his eyes. They seemed to both look at you and through you at the same time; plus every now and then they’d flick to something, though it was hard to tell what it was at times. The combination made most mundanes shy away from him, probably thinking that he was strung out on something, probably a hallucinogen. That he didn’t really stop anywhere made people not call the cops, after all it wasn’t their problem.

To another werewolf it was practically scrawled across his forehead in a bright fluorescent neon that something had gotten his attention. He wasn’t really hunting but he’d probably gotten a whiff of something in his nose. That he had a double fistful of talons and minor fetishes was also notable. His left eye also seemed to practically glow with Essence, making anyone who had been around those using Two World Eyes immediately peg him as an Itheaur. The question was what was it that had gotten his attention?

Jair was wandering as well, But for a different reason. Ever the scout aay heat, He yearned to know the city better. To scratch open its secret places and bolt holes, to see it from every angle, above and below included. The two pass like ships in the night on the sidewalk, His feet of mist hiding his wolf scent until the soft falls of heavy boots stop just after Nick walks by. The grind of path grit sounds as he turns on one toe to look. “Hey. Guy.” He’s young. It’s obvious in his face. Wearing a grungy pair of old jeans with mechanics stains, work boots well worn, And an old camo surplus jacket big enough for the skinny kid to use as a viable blanket

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas blinked at the other wolf, starting to digest the other’s physical age, rather than the pressure of the Wolf inside him. “All tribes have interest in the Shadow,” He said, a tone of mild confusion flowing as an undercurrent in his voice. He then paused in thought and asked “Which tribe are you affiliated with?” He could see that the other was known to be clever by the spirits, but that wasn’t the only virtue that he possessed. In addition, some virtues might not be seen as noteworthy by the spirits. All it took was a little conversation to expand oneself.

Smell of Iron, Taste of Dust, Sound of the Beat

Nicholas was just starting to find it for here. Turn a corner here, follow a sound there, turn from a smell yonder, trace a tag’s path hither. Meandering would be a word some could use for how he was moving. His black hoodie, slightly worn jeans, and tennis shoes made him meld, but that was vastly overshadowed by the air he kept about him. Several odd charms hung from bracelets, the air of something wrong, and let’s not forget his eyes. They seemed to both look at you and through you at the same time; plus every now and then they’d flick to something, though it was hard to tell what it was at times. The combination made most mundanes shy away from him, probably thinking that he was strung out on something, probably a hallucinogen. That he didn’t really stop anywhere made people not call the cops, after all it wasn’t their problem.

To another werewolf it was practically scrawled across his forehead in a bright fluorescent neon that something had gotten his attention. He wasn’t really hunting but he’d probably gotten a whiff of something in his nose. That he had a double fistful of talons and minor fetishes was also notable. His left eye also seemed to practically glow with Essence, making anyone who had been around those using Two World Eyes immediately peg him as an Itheaur. The question was what was it that had gotten his attention?

Jair was wandering as well, But for a different reason. Ever the scout aay heat, He yearned to know the city better. To scratch open its secret places and bolt holes, to see it from every angle, above and below included. The two pass like ships in the night on the sidewalk, His feet of mist hiding his wolf scent until the soft falls of heavy boots stop just after Nick walks by. The grind of path grit sounds as he turns on one toe to look. “Hey. Guy.” He’s young. It’s obvious in his face. Wearing a grungy pair of old jeans with mechanics stains, work boots well worn, And an old camo surplus jacket big enough for the skinny kid to use as a viable blanket

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas blinked, "This," he motions to the chalk design, "isn't a tribe thing. This is a thing i had to dig for. Sorry if i gave that impression." He didn't seem ruffled at the other wolf's apparent skepticism and anxiety. He was pretty sure that the knowledge of city spirits were not something that a lot of people wanted to think about. Some might akin it to asking something like Cthuthuluh for help. Not able to be understood well, and large enough that squishing you is no effort at all. "If i remember right the Lodge goes back to Rome. Possibly the Greeks with Athens. Go ahead with the suggestion though."

Smell of Iron, Taste of Dust, Sound of the Beat

Nicholas was just starting to find it for here. Turn a corner here, follow a sound there, turn from a smell yonder, trace a tag’s path hither. Meandering would be a word some could use for how he was moving. His black hoodie, slightly worn jeans, and tennis shoes made him meld, but that was vastly overshadowed by the air he kept about him. Several odd charms hung from bracelets, the air of something wrong, and let’s not forget his eyes. They seemed to both look at you and through you at the same time; plus every now and then they’d flick to something, though it was hard to tell what it was at times. The combination made most mundanes shy away from him, probably thinking that he was strung out on something, probably a hallucinogen. That he didn’t really stop anywhere made people not call the cops, after all it wasn’t their problem.

To another werewolf it was practically scrawled across his forehead in a bright fluorescent neon that something had gotten his attention. He wasn’t really hunting but he’d probably gotten a whiff of something in his nose. That he had a double fistful of talons and minor fetishes was also notable. His left eye also seemed to practically glow with Essence, making anyone who had been around those using Two World Eyes immediately peg him as an Itheaur. The question was what was it that had gotten his attention?

Jair was wandering as well, But for a different reason. Ever the scout aay heat, He yearned to know the city better. To scratch open its secret places and bolt holes, to see it from every angle, above and below included. The two pass like ships in the night on the sidewalk, His feet of mist hiding his wolf scent until the soft falls of heavy boots stop just after Nick walks by. The grind of path grit sounds as he turns on one toe to look. “Hey. Guy.” He’s young. It’s obvious in his face. Wearing a grungy pair of old jeans with mechanics stains, work boots well worn, And an old camo surplus jacket big enough for the skinny kid to use as a viable blanket

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas raised an eyebrow then chuffed slightly as if laughing. This was a thing about his lodge, most people didn't really think about this. "Think of the Reflection of an office building. Yes the building itself is there, but you will have a proverbial ecosystem of things like Information, diligence, electronic, and other spirits," he started then pausing to let the other wolf absorb his statement. "Now think about a city block, or district. Same thing it has an overall reflection of its own, but there are smaller reflections in an ecosystem inside it. Now think of all of those districts together." Again he paused to let the other wolf connect the dots then whispered. "I know of ways to get the attention of the reflection of the city. It isn't something done lightly, but since I am new it is polite for me to announce myself rather than suddenly pop up when i need a thing."

Smell of Iron, Taste of Dust, Sound of the Beat

Nicholas was just starting to find it for here. Turn a corner here, follow a sound there, turn from a smell yonder, trace a tag’s path hither. Meandering would be a word some could use for how he was moving. His black hoodie, slightly worn jeans, and tennis shoes made him meld, but that was vastly overshadowed by the air he kept about him. Several odd charms hung from bracelets, the air of something wrong, and let’s not forget his eyes. They seemed to both look at you and through you at the same time; plus every now and then they’d flick to something, though it was hard to tell what it was at times. The combination made most mundanes shy away from him, probably thinking that he was strung out on something, probably a hallucinogen. That he didn’t really stop anywhere made people not call the cops, after all it wasn’t their problem.

To another werewolf it was practically scrawled across his forehead in a bright fluorescent neon that something had gotten his attention. He wasn’t really hunting but he’d probably gotten a whiff of something in his nose. That he had a double fistful of talons and minor fetishes was also notable. His left eye also seemed to practically glow with Essence, making anyone who had been around those using Two World Eyes immediately peg him as an Itheaur. The question was what was it that had gotten his attention?

Jair was wandering as well, But for a different reason. Ever the scout aay heat, He yearned to know the city better. To scratch open its secret places and bolt holes, to see it from every angle, above and below included. The two pass like ships in the night on the sidewalk, His feet of mist hiding his wolf scent until the soft falls of heavy boots stop just after Nick walks by. The grind of path grit sounds as he turns on one toe to look. “Hey. Guy.” He’s young. It’s obvious in his face. Wearing a grungy pair of old jeans with mechanics stains, work boots well worn, And an old camo surplus jacket big enough for the skinny kid to use as a viable blanket

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas glanced at Jair. "It is not a note for someone in particular. It is aimed at a being larger than more care to think of." He clarified for the other wolf. He shrugged the comment about howling off. "As for the Farsil Luhal, what do you mean?"

Smell of Iron, Taste of Dust, Sound of the Beat

Nicholas was just starting to find it for here. Turn a corner here, follow a sound there, turn from a smell yonder, trace a tag’s path hither. Meandering would be a word some could use for how he was moving. His black hoodie, slightly worn jeans, and tennis shoes made him meld, but that was vastly overshadowed by the air he kept about him. Several odd charms hung from bracelets, the air of something wrong, and let’s not forget his eyes. They seemed to both look at you and through you at the same time; plus every now and then they’d flick to something, though it was hard to tell what it was at times. The combination made most mundanes shy away from him, probably thinking that he was strung out on something, probably a hallucinogen. That he didn’t really stop anywhere made people not call the cops, after all it wasn’t their problem.

To another werewolf it was practically scrawled across his forehead in a bright fluorescent neon that something had gotten his attention. He wasn’t really hunting but he’d probably gotten a whiff of something in his nose. That he had a double fistful of talons and minor fetishes was also notable. His left eye also seemed to practically glow with Essence, making anyone who had been around those using Two World Eyes immediately peg him as an Itheaur. The question was what was it that had gotten his attention?

Jair was wandering as well, But for a different reason. Ever the scout aay heat, He yearned to know the city better. To scratch open its secret places and bolt holes, to see it from every angle, above and below included. The two pass like ships in the night on the sidewalk, His feet of mist hiding his wolf scent until the soft falls of heavy boots stop just after Nick walks by. The grind of path grit sounds as he turns on one toe to look. “Hey. Guy.” He’s young. It’s obvious in his face. Wearing a grungy pair of old jeans with mechanics stains, work boots well worn, And an old camo surplus jacket big enough for the skinny kid to use as a viable blanket

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas gave another shrug. "Not looking to join just yet, in time though. I think I need to find something first. Or something finds me." The words were said in a simple way, layered undertones and subtle changes in posture telling that he was looking forward to this something. He snapped a finger, "which reminds me," he took a lump of light blue chalk from a pocket and walked to the mouth of an alley before pausing. "Wait. Manners." He looked at Jair, "this in your area?"

Smell of Iron, Taste of Dust, Sound of the Beat

Nicholas was just starting to find it for here. Turn a corner here, follow a sound there, turn from a smell yonder, trace a tag’s path hither. Meandering would be a word some could use for how he was moving. His black hoodie, slightly worn jeans, and tennis shoes made him meld, but that was vastly overshadowed by the air he kept about him. Several odd charms hung from bracelets, the air of something wrong, and let’s not forget his eyes. They seemed to both look at you and through you at the same time; plus every now and then they’d flick to something, though it was hard to tell what it was at times. The combination made most mundanes shy away from him, probably thinking that he was strung out on something, probably a hallucinogen. That he didn’t really stop anywhere made people not call the cops, after all it wasn’t their problem.

To another werewolf it was practically scrawled across his forehead in a bright fluorescent neon that something had gotten his attention. He wasn’t really hunting but he’d probably gotten a whiff of something in his nose. That he had a double fistful of talons and minor fetishes was also notable. His left eye also seemed to practically glow with Essence, making anyone who had been around those using Two World Eyes immediately peg him as an Itheaur. The question was what was it that had gotten his attention?

Jair was wandering as well, But for a different reason. Ever the scout aay heat, He yearned to know the city better. To scratch open its secret places and bolt holes, to see it from every angle, above and below included. The two pass like ships in the night on the sidewalk, His feet of mist hiding his wolf scent until the soft falls of heavy boots stop just after Nick walks by. The grind of path grit sounds as he turns on one toe to look. “Hey. Guy.” He’s young. It’s obvious in his face. Wearing a grungy pair of old jeans with mechanics stains, work boots well worn, And an old camo surplus jacket big enough for the skinny kid to use as a viable blanket

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas nodded, it was advice that was easily sound, even if it wasn't another magical individual. Introductions in general were helpful, especially with how he got during the crescent moon. He didn't try to cause problems, but he more than once had gotten bit because of the draw he had. "I have a cell number, if you would like to pass it both to Wendy and your father. That way things can get arranged and everyone is a little happier."

First Encounters of the Crescent Kind

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas sighed and looked back to her, “I admit that I still don’t understand,” he met her eyes for a moment then shook his head. His body language was a mixture of unsettled and apologetic. It was obvious that he’d never run into anything of this sort before, and it was both a draw as a part of a Seeker, while at the same time disquieting as a werewolf. Iron Masters were known for mental flexibility, but this was bending a little too far for him right now. “I think maybe if I talk to your father I might be able to wrap my head around this a little more. Hopefully before the next crescent moon?” His last statement was as much a question as it was a warning. Being led around by the nose as often as he was made it difficult to ignore something when it was the crescent moon. There was a note that Nicholas knew might seem like intrusion here, and he tried to communicate that as wholly as he could through his body language. He didn’t want to be intruding, but it was going to be a serious problem for him not to at least come to some understanding about what was going on. Fear spirits under control? Especially when they were this prevalent seemed dangerous to his mind. This was a problem to him like shifting, sucking mud. Unless he managed to get his footing on solid ground he was likely going to get pulled into a situation where at best he merely got hurt.

First Encounters of the Crescent Kind

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas took the hand and shook. "Iron Master," He clarified. "From a brief talk you also know a Full Moon Storm Lord friend of mine." He half wondered if Alex had told her at all about him. He glanced back at the stacks for a half second, his eyes staying on the physical even as it was obvious he was concerned about the fear spirits. Hell, part of him wondered how Alexander felt about it, with his particular ideology on the Oath.

First Encounters of the Crescent Kind

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas noticed the gesture and tilted his head a bit, an acknowledgement and partial apology. "Sorry, overfocused. I'm Nicholas. I've spent a while meandering, letting myself be drawn about by the nose a lot. From what I have seen i have the double edged sword of a deeper connection to the Ithelunem than most." He motioned towards the shelves, "i often end up in places where there are things I do not know yet when i allow myself to follow that draw." He rubbed the back of his neck, "Though when the waxing crescent moon is in the sky it is nearly impossible to ignore."

First Encounters of the Crescent Kind

Nicholas drew a deep breath through his nose. He knew he was close, but there was another werewolf here. That was both a curiosity and a wonder to him. He hadn't seen any markers regarding territory, but that didn’t mean anything just yet. Maybe it was a lone wolf who had plotted out a small territory of their own. But still, they might have noticed the happenings here.

Nicholas was dressed in his classic dark hoodie and jeans, in his human form looking a touch scruffy, with an assortment of what looked like charm bracelets around his wrists. The charms seemed carved of natural materials such as wood, bone, and stone. To mundanes he might look like a scruffy hippy, and with the way his eyes flicked towards things that weren’t there, he was probably stoned out of his gourd.

The store, through the eyes of an Itheaur, is a voracious spider in a part of town beset by fear-spirits that bully other smaller spirits. It’s an intense sight, as he steps inside. And the signs around the front area of the store are rather explicit in their wording: DO NOT ENTER THE STACKS WITHOUT THE GUIDANCE OF AN EMPLOYEE OF BOOK’S.

But there’s a rather nice front reading area, with cozy chairs and tables to sit at, splayed around the front checkout counter. And it’s behind the counter where he finds the wolf he’d scented, a young woman with dyed pink hair, dressed in a bright orange sweater and jeans.

[walkingcrescentwulf]

That caught his attention. "Where do the doors lead if not the Hisil?" He asked, part of him wondering if this was one of the things he'd been drawn towards. He also wanted to ask how she kept the fear spirits from becoming completely malignant and tearing open a wound. That could come later though. He didn't know enough to make any real action, and didnt have a connection enough to the City to get more info just yet.

The question did reveal a number of things though. Just like some Itheaur were drawn to the spirit and became walking loci, thhe question revealed his draw of Seeking. The pull to find and know more.

First Encounters of the Crescent Kind

Nicholas drew a deep breath through his nose. He knew he was close, but there was another werewolf here. That was both a curiosity and a wonder to him. He hadn't seen any markers regarding territory, but that didn’t mean anything just yet. Maybe it was a lone wolf who had plotted out a small territory of their own. But still, they might have noticed the happenings here.

Nicholas was dressed in his classic dark hoodie and jeans, in his human form looking a touch scruffy, with an assortment of what looked like charm bracelets around his wrists. The charms seemed carved of natural materials such as wood, bone, and stone. To mundanes he might look like a scruffy hippy, and with the way his eyes flicked towards things that weren’t there, he was probably stoned out of his gourd.

The store, through the eyes of an Itheaur, is a voracious spider in a part of town beset by fear-spirits that bully other smaller spirits. It’s an intense sight, as he steps inside. And the signs around the front area of the store are rather explicit in their wording: DO NOT ENTER THE STACKS WITHOUT THE GUIDANCE OF AN EMPLOYEE OF BOOK’S.

But there’s a rather nice front reading area, with cozy chairs and tables to sit at, splayed around the front checkout counter. And it’s behind the counter where he finds the wolf he’d scented, a young woman with dyed pink hair, dressed in a bright orange sweater and jeans.

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas shifted his vision near completely back to the physical world, glancing over at the woman. An edge of paranoia accented his motions as he came a bit closer to her. He stopped just outside of lunging range for most people. Yes, knowledge came at a cost, and for some it was their willingness to trust automatically.

"So what is going on?" He asked trying to keep his voice level as his mind plunged through ideas. He was about as far from the door as she was, and there was a chance he might be able to wake up the Fetishes around his wrists if needed. He was more than reluctant to go near the stacks for a couple reasons. The first being it was this other wolf's territory, providing her huge advantages over him. The second being a trained reflex after accidentally releasing that nasty spirit in the north, and he didn't want a repeat of that sort of thing. Third being that the number of fear spirits were more than worth noting, and probably had the ability to Reach and tap him if he went farther into their domain.

First Encounters of the Crescent Kind

Nicholas drew a deep breath through his nose. He knew he was close, but there was another werewolf here. That was both a curiosity and a wonder to him. He hadn't seen any markers regarding territory, but that didn’t mean anything just yet. Maybe it was a lone wolf who had plotted out a small territory of their own. But still, they might have noticed the happenings here.

Nicholas was dressed in his classic dark hoodie and jeans, in his human form looking a touch scruffy, with an assortment of what looked like charm bracelets around his wrists. The charms seemed carved of natural materials such as wood, bone, and stone. To mundanes he might look like a scruffy hippy, and with the way his eyes flicked towards things that weren’t there, he was probably stoned out of his gourd.

The store, through the eyes of an Itheaur, is a voracious spider in a part of town beset by fear-spirits that bully other smaller spirits. It’s an intense sight, as he steps inside. And the signs around the front area of the store are rather explicit in their wording: DO NOT ENTER THE STACKS WITHOUT THE GUIDANCE OF AN EMPLOYEE OF BOOK’S.

But there’s a rather nice front reading area, with cozy chairs and tables to sit at, splayed around the front checkout counter. And it’s behind the counter where he finds the wolf he’d scented, a young woman with dyed pink hair, dressed in a bright orange sweater and jeans.

[walkingcrescentwulf]

"Dangerous books?" Nicholas asked. He knew that a number of different groups had magic books. He even knew the classic trope of cursed objects were true in ways. He focused his eyes further on the shadow, trying to understand why the fear spirits were so prolific here.

Internally he was wondering if this was a design akin to the classic idea of the Labyrinth of Crete, a place where something dangerous was kept. While in Alaska he remembered accidentally letting loose a spirit that had been trapped. It was an interesting concept to have it in a bookstore though, especially with fear spirits rather than spirits of knowledge.

First Encounters of the Crescent Kind

Nicholas drew a deep breath through his nose. He knew he was close, but there was another werewolf here. That was both a curiosity and a wonder to him. He hadn't seen any markers regarding territory, but that didn’t mean anything just yet. Maybe it was a lone wolf who had plotted out a small territory of their own. But still, they might have noticed the happenings here.

Nicholas was dressed in his classic dark hoodie and jeans, in his human form looking a touch scruffy, with an assortment of what looked like charm bracelets around his wrists. The charms seemed carved of natural materials such as wood, bone, and stone. To mundanes he might look like a scruffy hippy, and with the way his eyes flicked towards things that weren’t there, he was probably stoned out of his gourd.

The store, through the eyes of an Itheaur, is a voracious spider in a part of town beset by fear-spirits that bully other smaller spirits. It’s an intense sight, as he steps inside. And the signs around the front area of the store are rather explicit in their wording: DO NOT ENTER THE STACKS WITHOUT THE GUIDANCE OF AN EMPLOYEE OF BOOK’S.

But there’s a rather nice front reading area, with cozy chairs and tables to sit at, splayed around the front checkout counter. And it’s behind the counter where he finds the wolf he’d scented, a young woman with dyed pink hair, dressed in a bright orange sweater and jeans.

[walkingcrescentwulf]

Nicholas looked at this expanse for a while, silent. Was she cultivating these spirits? If so why? They could easily create something much nastier if they become strong enough. He had gone out of his way to cultivate spirits on his journey, but he’d never seen anything like what he was seeing here.

Finally he broke down and spoke to her, “Is there a reason?” He asked, leaving the question ambiguous. This was something he’d learned from both the Irralunem and the Ithelunem in his meanderings. The answer he was given would be more information in his own pocket if he left things open a bit. 

First Encounters of the Crescent Kind

Nicholas drew a deep breath through his nose. He knew he was close, but there was another werewolf here. That was both a curiosity and a wonder to him. He hadn't seen any markers regarding territory, but that didn’t mean anything just yet. Maybe it was a lone wolf who had plotted out a small territory of their own. But still, they might have noticed the happenings here.

Nicholas was dressed in his classic dark hoodie and jeans, in his human form looking a touch scruffy, with an assortment of what looked like charm bracelets around his wrists. The charms seemed carved of natural materials such as wood, bone, and stone. To mundanes he might look like a scruffy hippy, and with the way his eyes flicked towards things that weren’t there, he was probably stoned out of his gourd.

The store, through the eyes of an Itheaur, is a voracious spider in a part of town beset by fear-spirits that bully other smaller spirits. It’s an intense sight, as he steps inside. And the signs around the front area of the store are rather explicit in their wording: DO NOT ENTER THE STACKS WITHOUT THE GUIDANCE OF AN EMPLOYEE OF BOOK’S.

But there’s a rather nice front reading area, with cozy chairs and tables to sit at, splayed around the front checkout counter. And it’s behind the counter where he finds the wolf he’d scented, a young woman with dyed pink hair, dressed in a bright orange sweater and jeans.