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Post by Hat on Oct 25, 2010 1:03:08 GMT -5
Seriously, he used to live in this area. The barn was vaguely familiar. The fields were, too. The stench of loners in the area, even, hadn't really changed from back in the day. Somehow it was all different, though. He wasn't sure why. The wolf sat in front of the barn doors, completely relaxed, studying the area critically. Today he felt dumb. Or suicidal, perhaps. In any case, he was already impossible to hide, and now he was in full view of everyone passing by. And this wasn't the good side of town, either. Hatteras remembered that bit real well. This used to be the main hangout for his sister's gang of rebels. Their pack ran the damn place, for heaven's sake. Cobb had a den right by the door, so she could haze any new kids coming in and out. Hat used to sleep across the barn a ways, in the comfortable spot. Nice and sheltered. The place leaked like crazy. Slick used to live in the hayloft, which had at some point fallen down since. He'd already been inside. Ah, those were the days. Or, anyway, so he remembered. They were more pleasant than other happenings. Ah well. Been there, done that. Hat shrugged, black eyes passing across the wooden shack again. Long time ago, that. At least he knew what was missing since then. The constant yelling, snarling, and scraps that used to be going on at all hours of the day and night. Nothing like a pack of wolves, none of them less than two years old, to make some noise. Hat grinned humorlessly and stood up, planning to leave the old barn alone. He was on a tour of the places he used to hang out at. Time to move on. He figured he'd skip the place where all that shit had ended in a blaze of misplaced glory. Even if he could find the place, Hat didn't need to see the bones to remember what happened. Mass killings sure did stick in a guy's mind. He shook his head to keep them from dragging themselves out of the depths of his brain again, like rotting old bodies out of the graves. Someday, maybe, Hat would get smacked in the head hard enough to get rid of his past. Sure, it would be wierd to wake up one day and discover you were a scarred old wolf with slight arthritis and (on and off) vision loss, but ah well. A couple birds flew out of the old barn, cawing. Hat pricked his ears and went on alert, looking carefully into the blackness. Nothing, as far as he could tell. That probably meant there was someone in there. He should probably be moving on. Then again, maybe not. It would be interesting to get a look at what kind of characters hung out in the old place. Somehow, Hatteras didn't think they'd look all that different from the band of wanna-be villains that used to follow him and his sisters around. That or nostalgia was clouding his mind.
Another black bird spiraled out of the barn and took to the evening sky. Hat stood, stretched, and paused a moment, then came to a decision. Eh, why the hell not? He'd take the bait. The worst it could be was some kind of robber or assasin, and Hat was quite capable of taking care of himself. Especially in close quarters, in a pitch-black barn. He sauntered forward across the dirt, head held as high as it ever was back when he was a beta, and entered the darkening building, sniffing the air. Underneath the stink of mold and rotting wood was definitely a smell of wolf. Unidentifiable, at the moment, but he'd hardly expected to run into anybody he knew. They were all dead, one way or another. It was pretty dark. Hat decided to be slightly cautious and paused inside the door of the barn, lightless eyes searching the interior. Nothing visible. Nothing audible. He took a few more steps forward, just to show that he was intruding on somene's territory (if, indeed, anyone else had claimed this old place), and cleared his throat loudly. "Know you're in here." His voice was a bit cracked. Made him sound older. Heh. "Might as well come out and talk. Promise not to hurt you. At least, not unless you have a go for me first..then, obviously, I can't really swear anything." He rolled his eyes suggestively (not that anyone would be able to tell) and settled in to wait. Either someone would talk, or attack him. Or keep hiding, he supposed. That was also an option.
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2010 17:15:38 GMT -5
Pyro had set out of the pack lands early that morning, and had wound up at the old barn. When she first arrived to the decrepit barn she had sniffed around the outside. She found nothing to weird the moved on to the inside. The ladder that had once lead to a hayloft still stood leaning against a large beam in the ceiling. She sniffed around it, and then continued sniffing around the barn. Her mind wondered what had happened here. It smelled of a long gone pack, and in the corners, blood. Her large blue eyes searched the ceiling carefully looking for any sign of life. She focused on a couple of ravens peering down on her. She imagined they would be angry that she had invaded their home, but she didn’t care. Her eyes carefully searched the rest of the barn. It was starting to get later in the afternoon and she was growing tired. Her eyes fell on a large pile of old hay. Her leg strong legs carried her easily to it; se prodded it carefully with her paw to chase any rodents away. Slowly she stepped onto the soft hay, and circled to make it more comfortable. Once it felt right under her large paws se folder her wings to her side and flopped down. While she slept she dreamt of her brother, and the days they had been puppies and lived happily with their parents. She was jolted awake by a deep cracked voice. The hackles on her back and neck rose swifter than her body did. She took up a fighting stance, head lowered slightly to cover her neck, tail up, legs lose to keep her agile, ears and eyes forward. The voice spoke of harm, and still half asleep she clearly had missed the part about not harming her. Her blue eyes seemed to glow, and with the light streaming in behind the wolf in the door she made out the shape of large wolf, and then inhaled and the scent of male hit her nose. He didn’t look like he might attack, but you never know with males. Her brain whirled as she thought of what to do. She knew she could fly to the rafters and push the ladder down, but she rather fight. She rolled her shoulders and flexed her body carefully warming her body up. Her voice was icy calm, “I don’t plan on attacking. I was merely taking a nap, but if this is your place, I will gladly leave.” She took a careful step forward and to the right side of the male, clearing the way to run out if she must.
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Post by Hat on Oct 26, 2010 22:54:03 GMT -5
Well, he hadn't really expected anyone to respond. Certainly Hat would have been a bit more cautious than to stroll out of the shadows like this female did. He'd have at least checked out the area first. But anyway, she seemed pretty normal. She had wings, but these things couldn't be helped. Blue eyes, reddish fur. At first she seemed like she wanted to fight (heh), and then she got nervous. Maybe noticed that he was a good bit bigger than she was? Hat figured that was a safe enough guess. He stared at her for a moment, not sure if he was interested enough to keep talking to her. Her voice was calm enough. That either meant she was afraid of him, she didn't care, or..or she planned to jump him when his back was turned. Hat generally figured on the last, just because it was safer. He huffed out a breath and sat down. Whether this kid could fly or not - she didn't seem like much of a threat to him. He'd fought winged types before. He flicked an ear, to show that he wasn't interested in fighting, and studied a spot just over the female's shoulder. "This hasn't been my place for a while." "Name's Hatteras." He focused back on her face, wondering idly if she had backup of some kind hiding in the barn. Maybe so. This one smelled like a pack wolf, and he'd heard of some reasonably unpleasant characters in the newest version of the 'laboratory wolf' pack. Some murderous asshole was supposed to be alpha now. Although that wasn't too different. Rampant slaughter was on the top of Slick's list of fun things, too. Ah well. Some wolves were odd like that. "Call me Hat. You?" He studied the darkness around her again, not being too obvious about it (having pupiless eyes was useful, now and again), and decided there was nobody else in there. Maybe this chick would actually tell him her real name. He himself should have used one of his fake ones, but ah well. Hat supposed that he didn't have anything to hide, at least right now.
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