🐺 — Ａll the drink did to the Gaffer Wolf was to dull his senses – something that he welcomes in the cacophony of the city. The sounds weren’t too bad most of the time, the problem was the scents : every single restaurant, car exhaust and dumpster. Every person’s natural smells and the artificial ones. Bigby needed to counter it somehow, to be able to filter all the massive information overload — thus the smelliest cigarette brand he could find and a few drinks every now and then, specially before sleeping. The taste in his mouth was just a bonus.
“ I’m a local. I live in the neighborhood ” Bigby replied . Actually this was a place a tad further away than his usual spot, but still within a walking distance. he felt like going to a place where the patrons don’t know him. “ What about you then? What brings such a adventurous fella to this corner of Manhattan?”
“ A local? “ He echoed, “ So you have the pleasure of dim lighting, annoyed patrons, and never ending noise right at your doorstep? You must have endless patience, or you’re drinking something a hell of a lot stronger than this. “
He spared a glance at the bar around him, pulling out his own pack of cigarette's fairly certain no one in the establishment would give a damn. The smoke now filling his lungs, he breathed out slowly through his nostrils before turning his attentions one more on the man beside him. “ Not really looking for anything in particular. Not lookin’ to end up anywhere. Just enjoying the moment, guess you could say. This one’s in a dingy bar with a New Yorker who, so far, has told me to fuck off. But the night is young, eh? “ Waving over the bar keep once more, he gave his most charming smile “ Something a bit stronger, if you got it? And - “ He turned towards Bigby “ - you stickin’ with that, or should I make it two? “
