#interactions;state pack

It's probably about 8 o'clock, maybe a little after, when Wyatt stumbles into the house. He kicks his shoes off on the porch because they are muddied up, and drops his sweatshirt and jeans at the door because they are covered in dirt and leaves from a tumble he took in the woods.

That was the thing about free running... as he jumped and ducked and 'alley-ooped' through various obstacles he sometimes misjudged the distance or his food caught something. This time, the toe of his shoe was snagged between a log and a branch that extended from it. It was old and decayed so it snapped from the pressure and weight, but it was enough to knock him off balance and send him rolling to the forest floor.

Instead of heading to the bathroom for a shower, Wyatt trudges in his t-shirt and underwear to the living room and collapses amongst the new sea of throw-pillows. He sinks comfortably into them and pulls the blanket down that was folded nicely atop the couch and just does his best impression of a corpse. Being as small as he is, it's easy to just blend into the cushions and pillows like he's part of the decor. He sighs in content when he hears someone approaching, happy to not be alone in their too-big house...

They're only given six months. It sounds like a long time, but Wyatt knows how quickly time flies when you're on the move. The State Pack probably thinks it generous, but Wyatt does feel it's unfair to his group. They're the ones who're going to have to move, anyway. Those feelings are internalized though, he has bigger things to worry about. Delaware is an Alpha for a reason, and it makes him the perfect person to start seeking answers from. Wyatt's had endless questions while on the road, before and after joining the rogues, and this is probably the only opportune time for him to solve them.

So, after enough pestering Wyatt pulled the number out of Jordan's phone and sent Delaware a text. Or ten. He would've probably gone off to the house if there wasn't a rule against it, so texting was the next best thing. When Delaware answers and actually invites Wyatt to meet with him, the young man is elated. He thought it would've taken more to break him and Wyatt would have persistently wore him down until Delaware just answered him. This is much easier, much to Wyatt's relief.

He steps off the bus that pulls up to the college (the biggest building in Rainsburg he somehow managed to miss) with a few yellow grocery bags in tow. Chips and cookies with some soda pop. This could become a very quick meeting, but Wyatt's brought enough for the entire window of time Delaware mentioned. He's even there early, fifteen minutes before two o'clock. It gives him time to track down the faculty offices and find Delaware.

The college setting isn't something Wyatt ever expected to stumble into. Classes and education ended after high school, not because he didn't want to learn. Flyers on the cork boards and pictures of various sporting and academic events catch his attention while he strolls down the hallways and eventually makes his way to Delaware's office. He gets there with a minute to spare, and as he stands outside the door his heart jumps up in his throat. The nerves are back, and Wyatt doesn't quite get why. He's going to ask a few things, and Delaware's going to (hopefully) give him the information he's looking for. Maybe it's the fear of learning what he's forgotten and being disappointed...

The outskirts of Rainsburg is quieter at the break of dawn, and the first light of the day is shining through a thick, lovely layer of cirrostratus clouds. Such a peaceful idea. Wonderful. It feels warmer than most days in February, and the sun glistens on the snow making it sparkle like thousands of diamonds. Wyatt loves the snow like he loves the woods and stars and life itself for with the snow comes the absence of spiders, and if there is something in the whole world that Wyatt does not love it is spiders.

But there is no fear of those creepy crawlies as he wanders down a path untraveled. Wyatt whistles a tune to himself as he keeps his pace casual. There is a wind that carries with it an unmistakable sign of many of his own kind housing somewhere nearby, and it musses his hair, chilling him to the bone. Wyatt doesn't follow the unhuman smell and keeps to himself on his unmarked path. It is morning and he doesn't really know if intermingling is the brightest of ideas... As curious as Wyatt may be he deters himself from considering the idea of giving a warm, neighborly introduction.

Are they even like neighbors? Is it even okay for them to be around?

Who knows, he thinks. He is excited about the prospect of other moonskins, but this is a claimed territory. Some of what he's learned in his past was retained after his trigger, but he doesn't recall much on innocent intrusion of another's territory. Wyatt means know harm, even if the strangers don't know it, so he walks without caution sure that nothing would come of it if he minded his own business. Maybe he should have told Jordan he was heading out on his own so early for a stroll...

Wyatt: 6 months isn't a very long time

Wyatt: why 6 months? whats important about claimed land

Wyatt: do all packs have claimed land?

Wyatt: what are we gonna do on full moons will it mess things up?

Wyatt: and two miles. we can't be two miles within your house what if there's a place close to your house we want to go to

Wyatt: also i met two of your pack before and they weren't very nice

It's warm for an afternoon in February. Warmer than it ever was in Ohio this time of year, anyway. Wyatt's enjoying it with his hoodie unzipped, revealing a thin material t-shirt underneath, and his toes have feeling in them despite how inappropriate they are for snowy weather. Speaking of snow, it still covers large patches of the town, leaving very little to be seen underneath it all. Humans are still bundled up, but Wyatt himself, he feels very comfortable.

He's just finished running around the in hiking section. Content with his morning exercise that consisted of sprinting, leaping, climbing, and all sorts of springing around in the woods he sits now on a bench alone. The sweat that beaded his hairline is gone entirely, but his hair is definitely matted underneath his hat. He doesn't dare to take it off, not until he goes home to shower first.

For now, he's just outside enjoying the fresh air. Far off from the State Pack house as well as his own, it's giving Wyatt time to settle his consistently busy mind. His curiousity is insatiable, but he's temporarily distracted from all of his tornado-like thoughts. It's relaxing. If he was better experienced in shifting he'd go for a run as a wolf, but that's another hurdle he has to leap.

When a figure approaches, Wyatt hardly looks up. He just shifts over to give more space on the bench so that the other person can sit if they so wish. "No one's sitting there," he informs, warm and friendly eyes shifting up. His smile twitches, but he doesn't let it fall. Another wolf, another new face. Wyatt feels slightly on edge. After Nevada and New Jersey, he's hesitant. But he still waves an open hand to the other side of the bench despite his sudden awkward nervousness. "If you need a spot to sit, that is."