The woods was where Tristan spent most of his time, to be honest. He lived there, for starters. Secondly, he was a werewolf, so it was the most convenient place for him to be. He liked the silence of the forest. No one bothered him there. But occasionally, Tristan needed human contact. He especially liked contact from one of his pack members, but today he was so lonely he was willing to talk with anyone, no matter what their species. 

Talia handed over her money to the local mechanic, who talked on and on about how she should just get a new car while she counted out her bills. "I'll get a new car eventually." She assured him, it was the same promise she'd been making for years. Customizing a new car to suit her needs would be exhausting, and without her dad around it would be almost impossible. Speaking of which...Talia took her phone out of her pocket and started typing as she walked to Scooter's Tavern for a game of pool or two so she could kill time.  〚 Text to Dad:                          What's your location?                                 Where are you?                                 Look, I know you're busy.                                  But can you please just shoot me a text.                                 So I know that you're alright?                                                                                      -Talia〛

A storm was coming, Tristan observed as he sat outside on his porch. He took a sip of his coffee before tasting the air, seeing how close it was to rain. At that moment, thunder boomed in the distance and it began to pour. With a frown, the werewolf stood and looked toward the woods that surrounded him, taking in the scent of the area once again. He could mostly smell coffee and rain, but there was a faint smell of someone else- and he could hear them coming closer over the pouring rain.

Click.       Click.            Click.  The repetitive sound of her pedometer kept her rhythm as she ran along her normal route. She didn't want to admit it was patrol, but the bag strapped tightly to her back wasn't a fashion accessory and neither was the disconcerted bun on the back of her head. Talia did however have excuse after after for the odd attire and kept an ipod on her for appearances. She did the same routine every night. At different times and different starting points but the route was extensive, she lapped the whole town twice running through both forest and city before collapsing on her bed for the night.  Unfortunately, her bed would have to wait. She had only been running for thirty minutes when she stopped to take her first water break. Her legs still remembered the days where thirty minutes was all she could do before completely giving out.  Limits       Are Made                     To Be                            Pushed. 

The weight of a wooden baseball bat in his grip was a heavy one, and though he was of steady hands, his fingers anxiously tapped against the rotten surface. As if hearing someone walk around and not being able to identify their position wasn't terrifying enough, the lights were going out as well and the witch was all too tempted to simply recharge the electricity with magic but just as equally scared to out himself to someone who might endanger his fellow mates - so yeah, the latter won over. He was standing in the hallway, able to hear only his breathing in the silence that settled in right after a short dull thump, when a shadow of a silhouette behind his back finally appeared and had him jumping on his feet to turn to the other side, hand at ready to swing "Shit, you scared the hell out of me! What the hell are you doing here?"

Clayton Doyle wouldn't normally have been found at Scooter's Tavern. He hated the stench of intoxicated men trying to coo their way into skirts and beds. But there he was that night, sitting by himself at the bar, alone and a little overcome by the drink before him. Everything had a bit of a  h a z e  to it, even the bright lamps which lit the colourful bottles of liquor behind the bartender. His chin rested heavily in his hand, and it took him a few seconds to realise that someone had appeared on the stool next to his.

    Isaiah was hungry, for what he wasn't sure, but the cabinets in the apartment he shared with Riddick were completely empty and he couldn't exactly just shift into wolf form and go hunting in the forest-- it was broad daylight and someone might see him-- so, Isaiah set out to find a place to buy human food in Bindlebrim Hallows.     Once he had exited the apartment he did his usual lift of his head and sniffed the air. He was alone, at the moment.     Letting a breath out of his noses, Isaiah started walking towards the more populated area of town. He toyed with the decision of whether to buy actual groceries or to find a restaurant or café where he could sit and eat something for lunch. It was past the usual lunch rush (it was almost two in the afternoon) so Isaiah figured that might be the more quiet option. However, the option of buying groceries meant less human interaction-- though he risked seeing more people.     He pondered this as he started to notice the streets getting more populated, he was almost at the town center.