#howlthorne

        césar’s calling this his day off. whatever that means.  “ acere, ‘ey! ”  not so much relaxing as he is stewing, willing to drag any passerby to drown in his misery with him. the wolf catches a familiar scent, turning his head and calling to him. there had been a million bodies at the conclave, too many for césar to catalogue to completion and- he really just doesn’t fucking care. but his wolf has always been keen to the ones close to him. and this smell that he’s catching, well, césar recognizes enough of the owner’s blurry face to decide that he knows him.  “ i remember you. the conclave, yeah? talked to avi, yet? ”

They are alone this evening, working after hours while the rest of the crew had gone home. They just wanted to finish this last car, head slowly bopping along to the song playing on the radio as they check all the bolts. But their nose prickles with an unfamiliar scent, though distinctly a wolf. They had memorized the scents of everyone who worked at the garage, and this one was new. They weren't part of Eventide either and Arte carefully tightened the final screw on the engine they were working on to go find the source of what was new.

There's a stranger in the entrance of the garage, but he doesn't seem unfriendly. It's not the first time a wolf has been sent to Palmer's to find them. "C-can I um, do you need h-help?" / @howlthorne