[Closed starter / post event 001 / @oddltles​]
After having his fair share, if not a bit more of it honestly, of indignant ranting and internal panic over the events of the recent weddings Quinn had set himself to very direct, honed paces. Some part of him was convinced mood swings were as much a part of his race as fur and full moons because he'd never met another werewolf who wasn't their own brand of dramatic. His just happened to be the jumbled, vocal sort. But, with a few days to settle it made more sense to keep occupied rather than overthink. He wasn't going to find loopholes if he was too busy complaining and wallowing in how sneaky, a fact he could have appreciated if it didn't affect him as well, that underhanded soul bonding nonsense was.
It wasn't just running around the area to keep himself distracted, he was also avoiding Basil. It hasn't even crossed his mind to attend the wedding with his apparently future husband and Quinn was still detached from the reality of that idea. Of silver rings - what sort of bad idea was that because he couldn't even wear silver- and nervous possibilities. It was great leverage, being able to point out that anyone who wanted to kill him would also be taking out some innocent idiot stuck with him; but was he really enough of a bastard to use it? Frankly, the jury was still out on that one.
He was ambling his way towards home, wrapped up in thought, when something snared his attention. Only the smallest, faintest hint of familiarity on the breeze. He wasn't looking for it, for him, but could he find Basil? As much as he liked to play up his little gifts they had limits, even Quinn wasn't certain if he could chase a shadow scent likely days stale through streets and around buildings. But he had little else to do but entertain himself, so why not?
Like a game of hide and seek the other was unwittingly playing, Basil had been here and there, traces of his presence lingered at corners where he'd stopped, shops he might have paused to explore, and overlapped in directions he had traveled more than once. Hands buried into his pockets and walking himself in circles, Quinn followed one to the next. The strongest spot was muddled over with dozens of others, until he found himself at dead ends where people had diluted that scent with their own.
Vaguely frustrated, his gaze swung to the handful of buildings on the street not so far from his own home, by the sheer amount of other people who lived there his senses were confused. He couldn't decipher exactly which building, not without closer inspection, and he gathered plenty of strange looks without actually slinking around too close to the collective mass of people who were nestled into those little boxed off apartments. Ah well, his foray into being a borderline stalker had seemingly come to an end with him standing and staring in contemplation from the sidewalk.
He finally took a blind step back, having grown bored with that fixation, time to find the next one to keep himself, marginally, out of trouble. That over-saturation of scent likely why he didn’t notice at first, not until he had nearly stepped off the curb and right into the Changeling. Quinn wasn’t certain why it hadn’t occurred to him that he might actually run into Basil.Â
“Oh, well, there you are,” he mumbled, as though being there had been his intention all along. Not need for the actual truth in the matter, it was just a little detail anyway.
