[Maddox] "What I wish, Lllizzy," and the L is noticeably drawn out, "is to not break a verbal habit that's twenty-some-odd years in the making. But," and he sighs, long-suffering and benevolent man making the effort to bestow a favor, "if it will make you happy, I can try. The best I can promise is a hybrid, lllIzzy."
Peering up at her, his mouth quirks, and he shrugs a shoulder. "And you can call me whatever you like, s'long as you don't refer to me as anything relating to Angelina fucking Jolie."
[Kora] "I trained in these islands in the north Atlantic, yeah?" she returns, walking fast enough to match his pace. It's hard to see the grace in her gait anymore. Mostly, she waddles, shoulders back, stomach forward. "The meal plan included every edible part of the sheep. Mutton; they sold the lambs off. And fish. I'd be happy with Little Caesar's pizza.
"This stuff - " outside now, a cool spring night; she glance up automatically, finding clouds across the waxing moon. The night's unsettled; she's not yet glimpsed the moon through the cloud cover and reminds herself not to look up again. "Is heaven."
Kora's eyes drop from the sky to the street; settle on Maddox and Izzy down on the corner, the bus stop bench. Then she cuts Lukas a side glance, generous mouth twisting in a subtle show of wry humor. "Did you actually just say little tyke?" The streetlights sheen across the surface of her eyes as she lifts her shoulders in a vague, answering shrug. "I don't know when exactly. Soon, though."
[Danicka Musil] Two college seniors and two people that look like they're old enough to be grad students stumble into the pizza parlor, laughing and barely able to carry themselves, then abruptly straighten up because they have to be serious here. One of them keeps flicking his eyes around, not blinking, and is visibly trying very, very hard not to laugh. He's holding the hand of a girl who, sober, would be way too pretty for him, but maybe that's what people think every time those two hold hands. The 'grad students' are a total hipster -- scarf and everything -- with a chin beard and tattoos, and beside him is a blonde woman in dark pink and white lululemon athletica, her hair up in a high ponytail.
The hipster is handling himself better than the undergrads, as though this is just his natural state. The brunette starts to giggle again. The blonde, who smells as strongly of weed as the rest of them, lets out a squeal that is decidedly not Shadow Lordly at all and bolts across the room to jump on Lukas, arms and legs tossed around his shoulders and waist, respectively.
"Hi!"
[Izzy Montoya] She studies him again. A long moment. Then? A subtle curve at the corner of her lips - barely seen, barely there before it's gone again. She turns, and settles to the bench then, crossing long legs, smoothing her slacks over her thigh, before she turns her attention to the pastry now held in her lap, cigarette between her fingers as she plucks bits of the treat off to eat them.
She doesn't seem to care that he didn't invite her to sit.
"To be fuckin' honest, I never made that connection. Now, though..." She looks up then, which is where finds Kora looking toward her and Maddox. She holds the gaze a moment, before returning her attention to the Theurge at her side.
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I absolutely did. I thought you'd prefer it to," he pauses to take another big bite, bringing up the pizza box to catch a runaway glop of meat-n-cheese, "the future warrior of Gaia, oorah!"
And a laugh, then, more or less heading toward Izzy and Maddox down the way now -- that sort of half-unconscious clustering of like to like. "I was fostered in upstate New York. Very rural area, very beautiful. A big lake and some waterfalls. Actually, a reservoir and a dam, but still quite lovely. We were close enough to the City not to have to salvage every part of the sheep, though."
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [ack! *reads* go on, i'll add another post in a sec!]
[Maddox] He shifts on the bench, giving the woman room. His Rage is not terribly high, and he's not the most threatening of Garou. Tall and gangly, Maddox looks more the type to accidentally hurt himself before doing damage to an opponent in a fight. Even without a gun, Izzy could probably overpower him with little effort.
That's not why he makes room. There's no telling what that reason is, or when why when she does deign to sit near him he refrains from leaning up against her and being a general nuisance. He does indeed look surprised, though. And he huffs a laugh.
"Hey, I'll remind you that I'm making an effort. No luvs for you. No Jolies for me. Deal?" Leaning back slightly, he holds out the arm closest to her for a shake. Her attention drifts, though, and so does his. Maddox looks over to see the small party over by or in the pizza joint. One familiar figure, one less familiar, and one just in the process of latching onto the more familiar one like a jumper.
[Izzy Montoya] He offers a shake, and she pulls her attention back to him. She drops her gaze to his hand, and then slides her fingers into his easily enough. "Deal."
A beat. "Which is good, as I'd hate to have to get these coordinates right here tattoo'd on my ass to commemorate the place we met. I hate needles."
His rage isn't as much as some, perhaps more than others. Rather than overwhelming, it's more of a tingle of awareness along her spine, under her skin. Easily ignored. He follows her gaze, and she lifts a chin toward Kora and Lukas. "Know'em?"
[Kora] Whatever she might have replied - the twist lingerings in the curve of her mouth when he finished future warrior of gaia with oorah - is largely swallowed when Danicka appears, well dressed, smelling of pot and Shadow Lord, and flings herself onto Lukas. The pregnant Fenrir steps rather politely, rather decisively, out of the immediate circle of their space, lifts her pizza box in vague toast to Lukas and begins ambling (waddling) down the street toward the bus bench.
So: tall, young, heavily pregnant woman, pale-skinned, pale-haired, dark-eyed, wearing a University of Chicago hoodie that is large enough to accommodate her gravid figure at the stomach, and too large everywhere else. NO breeding to mark her as Garou; just the confidence to walk a street like this in the presence of a Shadow Lord, or along. Her hair is long, pale enough that it would go silver in the moonlight, the weight of it wrapped back upon itself, secured with a chop stick at the base of her neck. Mostly the twist is covered by the hood of her sweatshirt.
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's an unShadowLordly squeal, and then there's a rapid approach that distantly reminds him of the way his imaginary dream-daughter flung herself at him in the Underworld, and then he's scooping a potsmoked Danicka up half out of reflex and half out of instinct. Hi, she says. Rrr, he says, pretend-gnawing at her shoulder for a second.
Then, as though abruptly re-aware that they're out on the streets, he leans back and lets her slide back down. "Hi," he replies, smiling. Then a pause. Sniffing. "Are you stoned?"
He hasn't quite let go of her entirely. His arm wraps warm and heavy over her shoulders as he starts following Kora's meandering, waddling path toward the others.
[Maddox] "Why...?" he trails, amused and confused all at once. Before he can complete the question, Izzy asks him if he knows them. He lifts his head again to see.
"Big bloke's got a room at The Brotherhood. I don't know the bird 'e's wearing. Her..." He squints at Kora.
She probably doesn't remember him. He certainly doesn't really remember her, though she looks familiar. But they saw each other once, on another night, when Maddox was sitting on a bench in a park, playing to the twilight. It was brief, and he'd been thoroughly distracted by an adorable little songbird and a flighty tribesmate.
Maddox watches the pregnant woman as she makes her way near, eyes narrowed and head tilted. Then he gives up in a shrug.
"Aside from a bit of déjà vu, I don't think I've met her before. Friend of yours?"
[Danicka Musil] "I'm hungry," Danicka answers, as though this was a very, very stupid question on Lukas's part, and she must be stoned because there was less grace than her usual as she slid down and set her running-shoed feet on the concrete again. She's got a messenger bag slung over her shoulder, the strap crossing her chest, but it isn't heavy. Her eyes are glassy, but she's smiling. "You found the real pizza!" she says, since he's at this parlor, and she sounds so proud.
Oh, they're walking. She's got a very heavy arm on her and she's essentially being steered in the direction he's going, but tonight she doesn't seem to mind that. She doesn't reposition his arm or anything. She seems, in fact, quite content to be ushered along for once.
"I can haz pizza?" she lolcats at him, holding out her hands. She's beaming.
[Izzy Montoya] She shrugs a shoulder, semi-embarrassed to know the following: "Jolie has the longitude and latitude of the birth place of each of her adopted children on her arm."
Then it's back to the garou. The big bloke he says. "Lukas. And Danicka. And this..." Added as Kora comes within comfortable earshot and conversation distance. "Is Kora. Kora, Maddox. Kora is the Jarl."
The. Not hers. Somehow, though, it's not intended as an insult, nor slight. Izzy tends to hold herself apart from the Nation she is mired within, and this is no different. Of course, she doesn't claim Kora is a friend either. It's not hard to imagine Izzy having a distinct lack of those, all told. Coworkers, acquaintances, sure. Friends? Few and far between.
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Well, at least the big bloke is no longer wearing the bird. He's just gently guiding her along, and long before she lolcats at him, he's already offering her his pizza box. There are two meatlover's slices in there, big and flat and heavy, oozing, dripping with toppings. One's halfeaten. The other one's hers now.
"I totally found the real pizza. Why are you -- " he decides, midway through the question, to stop trying to ask why she's stoned and cruising for pizza in Cabrini with a bunch of classmates. "Did you drive?"
[Kora] The Jarl is ungainly with late pregnancy, carrying a small pizza box that smells of garlic and another single slice on a greasy paper plate atop that. She has not yet eaten, not even the first bite of the slice. Her thumb holds the paper plate in place atop the box as she walks, though. When she's close enough that Izzy offers introductions, she offers the kinswoman a faint half smile. "Detective." And a lift of the box by way of greeting. "Maddox."
Her eyes are dark, the color mostly lost in the night's shadows. Without precisely conscious thought, she stands out of the stream of smoke, but does not ask Izzy to put out her cigarette, and does not otherwise acknowledge her pregnancy. Not that it needs acknowledgment.
A brief glance back down the street touches on Danicka and Lukas as they take the same path. Then her gaze shifts, focuses beyond them, behind their backs, narrowing with momentary interest at something in the middle distance.
The note lingers, then shifts. Kora glances back at Izzy and Maddox. "Making friends?" A steady look for Izzy, though there is an understated irony to the curve of her expressive mouth.
[Maddox] "Jarl?" he asks, brows raised. He looks over Kora, surprised, but probably not for a reason she might think. "I thought this was a multi-tribal sept?" His voice is not pitched to keep from reaching the Jarl, but nor does he call it out to her.
"Kora," he greets, mouth quirking. When he takes a drag from his own cigarette, the smoke gets blown from the corner of his mouth. Where the wind takes it from there is beyond his control. "And I think it's safer to say we're not making enemies. I hope." He doesn't needle Izzy about her knowledge of a pop culture icon. Not right now, anyway, though he does wonder what other tidbits of useless information the kinswoman has tucked away in that fascinating brain of hers.
[Izzy Montoya] Making friends, Kora asks, with understated irony. "And Influencing People." Izzy replies, with a slight smirk and equally steady gaze. Some have told her that a smirk is rude, crude, and not at all polite - which is likely why it's her default expression. She means no insult though. At least, not at the moment.
There is respect in this, too. Kora stands out of the path of cigarette smoke, but does not ask that it be put out. As a direct result, Izzy takes a final drag, exhales away from the Jarl, and drops the butt to the cement at her feet, crushing it to final death under the toe of her boot. It's the little things.
As for the idea of a multi-tribal sept. "It is."
[Danicka Musil] "Pizzaaa..." Danicka chortles gleefully, accepting the greasy slice without bothering with a napkin, without asking for one. She grabs the second large slice and holds it with both hands, taking a very large bite while Lukas is thinking better of asking why this woman, who considers everything from gallery openings to drinking at Mr. C's to taking apart arcane weaponry under a microscope to be appropriate ways to spend her leisure time, would do something as shocking as get high with college students.
Her teeth dig into the cheese and she looks like she's about to burst out giggling from sheer happiness. She doesn't, though. She reins it in, and chews that enormous bite, wiping some grease off her lower lip with the back of her wrist. Looks up at him as they near Maddox and Izzy and Kora again, blinking.
Swallows.
"I'm pretty sure we walked here. There may have been a bus. III left my coat at Trevor's apartment, though. He said he'd bring it to class tomorrow but I have to get it dry cleaned cuz it smells like ganja now." She takes another bite and, cheeks bulging, raises one hand in a wave to the Fianna, the detective, and the preggorz chick. She at least has the manners not to speak with her mouth full, though.
[Kora] "Not making enemies, influencing people," a mild, dark-eyed look from Maddox to Izzy and back again. The faint irony evident in the curve of her generous mouth widens. The shift is subtle as the difference between two shades of some designer color, but all the more evident for that. "Careful, detective. You'll make me proud."
Her chin rises, and she lifts the box by way of explanation. "If you will both excuse me, I'm heading back to the church. Need some milk to wash this down with, and I'm starving." A brief, flickering glance encompasses Lukas and Danicka in her excuses, and then the Fenrir starts around the corner.
[Kora] (Thanks for the scene, folks. Bedtime!)
Peering up at her, his mouth quirks, and he shrugs a shoulder. "And you can call me whatever you like, s'long as you don't refer to me as anything relating to Angelina fucking Jolie."
[Kora] "I trained in these islands in the north Atlantic, yeah?" she returns, walking fast enough to match his pace. It's hard to see the grace in her gait anymore. Mostly, she waddles, shoulders back, stomach forward. "The meal plan included every edible part of the sheep. Mutton; they sold the lambs off. And fish. I'd be happy with Little Caesar's pizza.
"This stuff - " outside now, a cool spring night; she glance up automatically, finding clouds across the waxing moon. The night's unsettled; she's not yet glimpsed the moon through the cloud cover and reminds herself not to look up again. "Is heaven."
Kora's eyes drop from the sky to the street; settle on Maddox and Izzy down on the corner, the bus stop bench. Then she cuts Lukas a side glance, generous mouth twisting in a subtle show of wry humor. "Did you actually just say little tyke?" The streetlights sheen across the surface of her eyes as she lifts her shoulders in a vague, answering shrug. "I don't know when exactly. Soon, though."
[Danicka Musil] Two college seniors and two people that look like they're old enough to be grad students stumble into the pizza parlor, laughing and barely able to carry themselves, then abruptly straighten up because they have to be serious here. One of them keeps flicking his eyes around, not blinking, and is visibly trying very, very hard not to laugh. He's holding the hand of a girl who, sober, would be way too pretty for him, but maybe that's what people think every time those two hold hands. The 'grad students' are a total hipster -- scarf and everything -- with a chin beard and tattoos, and beside him is a blonde woman in dark pink and white lululemon athletica, her hair up in a high ponytail.
The hipster is handling himself better than the undergrads, as though this is just his natural state. The brunette starts to giggle again. The blonde, who smells as strongly of weed as the rest of them, lets out a squeal that is decidedly not Shadow Lordly at all and bolts across the room to jump on Lukas, arms and legs tossed around his shoulders and waist, respectively.
"Hi!"
[Izzy Montoya] She studies him again. A long moment. Then? A subtle curve at the corner of her lips - barely seen, barely there before it's gone again. She turns, and settles to the bench then, crossing long legs, smoothing her slacks over her thigh, before she turns her attention to the pastry now held in her lap, cigarette between her fingers as she plucks bits of the treat off to eat them.
She doesn't seem to care that he didn't invite her to sit.
"To be fuckin' honest, I never made that connection. Now, though..." She looks up then, which is where finds Kora looking toward her and Maddox. She holds the gaze a moment, before returning her attention to the Theurge at her side.
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I absolutely did. I thought you'd prefer it to," he pauses to take another big bite, bringing up the pizza box to catch a runaway glop of meat-n-cheese, "the future warrior of Gaia, oorah!"
And a laugh, then, more or less heading toward Izzy and Maddox down the way now -- that sort of half-unconscious clustering of like to like. "I was fostered in upstate New York. Very rural area, very beautiful. A big lake and some waterfalls. Actually, a reservoir and a dam, but still quite lovely. We were close enough to the City not to have to salvage every part of the sheep, though."
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [ack! *reads* go on, i'll add another post in a sec!]
[Maddox] He shifts on the bench, giving the woman room. His Rage is not terribly high, and he's not the most threatening of Garou. Tall and gangly, Maddox looks more the type to accidentally hurt himself before doing damage to an opponent in a fight. Even without a gun, Izzy could probably overpower him with little effort.
That's not why he makes room. There's no telling what that reason is, or when why when she does deign to sit near him he refrains from leaning up against her and being a general nuisance. He does indeed look surprised, though. And he huffs a laugh.
"Hey, I'll remind you that I'm making an effort. No luvs for you. No Jolies for me. Deal?" Leaning back slightly, he holds out the arm closest to her for a shake. Her attention drifts, though, and so does his. Maddox looks over to see the small party over by or in the pizza joint. One familiar figure, one less familiar, and one just in the process of latching onto the more familiar one like a jumper.
[Izzy Montoya] He offers a shake, and she pulls her attention back to him. She drops her gaze to his hand, and then slides her fingers into his easily enough. "Deal."
A beat. "Which is good, as I'd hate to have to get these coordinates right here tattoo'd on my ass to commemorate the place we met. I hate needles."
His rage isn't as much as some, perhaps more than others. Rather than overwhelming, it's more of a tingle of awareness along her spine, under her skin. Easily ignored. He follows her gaze, and she lifts a chin toward Kora and Lukas. "Know'em?"
[Kora] Whatever she might have replied - the twist lingerings in the curve of her mouth when he finished future warrior of gaia with oorah - is largely swallowed when Danicka appears, well dressed, smelling of pot and Shadow Lord, and flings herself onto Lukas. The pregnant Fenrir steps rather politely, rather decisively, out of the immediate circle of their space, lifts her pizza box in vague toast to Lukas and begins ambling (waddling) down the street toward the bus bench.
So: tall, young, heavily pregnant woman, pale-skinned, pale-haired, dark-eyed, wearing a University of Chicago hoodie that is large enough to accommodate her gravid figure at the stomach, and too large everywhere else. NO breeding to mark her as Garou; just the confidence to walk a street like this in the presence of a Shadow Lord, or along. Her hair is long, pale enough that it would go silver in the moonlight, the weight of it wrapped back upon itself, secured with a chop stick at the base of her neck. Mostly the twist is covered by the hood of her sweatshirt.
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's an unShadowLordly squeal, and then there's a rapid approach that distantly reminds him of the way his imaginary dream-daughter flung herself at him in the Underworld, and then he's scooping a potsmoked Danicka up half out of reflex and half out of instinct. Hi, she says. Rrr, he says, pretend-gnawing at her shoulder for a second.
Then, as though abruptly re-aware that they're out on the streets, he leans back and lets her slide back down. "Hi," he replies, smiling. Then a pause. Sniffing. "Are you stoned?"
He hasn't quite let go of her entirely. His arm wraps warm and heavy over her shoulders as he starts following Kora's meandering, waddling path toward the others.
[Maddox] "Why...?" he trails, amused and confused all at once. Before he can complete the question, Izzy asks him if he knows them. He lifts his head again to see.
"Big bloke's got a room at The Brotherhood. I don't know the bird 'e's wearing. Her..." He squints at Kora.
She probably doesn't remember him. He certainly doesn't really remember her, though she looks familiar. But they saw each other once, on another night, when Maddox was sitting on a bench in a park, playing to the twilight. It was brief, and he'd been thoroughly distracted by an adorable little songbird and a flighty tribesmate.
Maddox watches the pregnant woman as she makes her way near, eyes narrowed and head tilted. Then he gives up in a shrug.
"Aside from a bit of déjà vu, I don't think I've met her before. Friend of yours?"
[Danicka Musil] "I'm hungry," Danicka answers, as though this was a very, very stupid question on Lukas's part, and she must be stoned because there was less grace than her usual as she slid down and set her running-shoed feet on the concrete again. She's got a messenger bag slung over her shoulder, the strap crossing her chest, but it isn't heavy. Her eyes are glassy, but she's smiling. "You found the real pizza!" she says, since he's at this parlor, and she sounds so proud.
Oh, they're walking. She's got a very heavy arm on her and she's essentially being steered in the direction he's going, but tonight she doesn't seem to mind that. She doesn't reposition his arm or anything. She seems, in fact, quite content to be ushered along for once.
"I can haz pizza?" she lolcats at him, holding out her hands. She's beaming.
[Izzy Montoya] She shrugs a shoulder, semi-embarrassed to know the following: "Jolie has the longitude and latitude of the birth place of each of her adopted children on her arm."
Then it's back to the garou. The big bloke he says. "Lukas. And Danicka. And this..." Added as Kora comes within comfortable earshot and conversation distance. "Is Kora. Kora, Maddox. Kora is the Jarl."
The. Not hers. Somehow, though, it's not intended as an insult, nor slight. Izzy tends to hold herself apart from the Nation she is mired within, and this is no different. Of course, she doesn't claim Kora is a friend either. It's not hard to imagine Izzy having a distinct lack of those, all told. Coworkers, acquaintances, sure. Friends? Few and far between.
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Well, at least the big bloke is no longer wearing the bird. He's just gently guiding her along, and long before she lolcats at him, he's already offering her his pizza box. There are two meatlover's slices in there, big and flat and heavy, oozing, dripping with toppings. One's halfeaten. The other one's hers now.
"I totally found the real pizza. Why are you -- " he decides, midway through the question, to stop trying to ask why she's stoned and cruising for pizza in Cabrini with a bunch of classmates. "Did you drive?"
[Kora] The Jarl is ungainly with late pregnancy, carrying a small pizza box that smells of garlic and another single slice on a greasy paper plate atop that. She has not yet eaten, not even the first bite of the slice. Her thumb holds the paper plate in place atop the box as she walks, though. When she's close enough that Izzy offers introductions, she offers the kinswoman a faint half smile. "Detective." And a lift of the box by way of greeting. "Maddox."
Her eyes are dark, the color mostly lost in the night's shadows. Without precisely conscious thought, she stands out of the stream of smoke, but does not ask Izzy to put out her cigarette, and does not otherwise acknowledge her pregnancy. Not that it needs acknowledgment.
A brief glance back down the street touches on Danicka and Lukas as they take the same path. Then her gaze shifts, focuses beyond them, behind their backs, narrowing with momentary interest at something in the middle distance.
The note lingers, then shifts. Kora glances back at Izzy and Maddox. "Making friends?" A steady look for Izzy, though there is an understated irony to the curve of her expressive mouth.
[Maddox] "Jarl?" he asks, brows raised. He looks over Kora, surprised, but probably not for a reason she might think. "I thought this was a multi-tribal sept?" His voice is not pitched to keep from reaching the Jarl, but nor does he call it out to her.
"Kora," he greets, mouth quirking. When he takes a drag from his own cigarette, the smoke gets blown from the corner of his mouth. Where the wind takes it from there is beyond his control. "And I think it's safer to say we're not making enemies. I hope." He doesn't needle Izzy about her knowledge of a pop culture icon. Not right now, anyway, though he does wonder what other tidbits of useless information the kinswoman has tucked away in that fascinating brain of hers.
[Izzy Montoya] Making friends, Kora asks, with understated irony. "And Influencing People." Izzy replies, with a slight smirk and equally steady gaze. Some have told her that a smirk is rude, crude, and not at all polite - which is likely why it's her default expression. She means no insult though. At least, not at the moment.
There is respect in this, too. Kora stands out of the path of cigarette smoke, but does not ask that it be put out. As a direct result, Izzy takes a final drag, exhales away from the Jarl, and drops the butt to the cement at her feet, crushing it to final death under the toe of her boot. It's the little things.
As for the idea of a multi-tribal sept. "It is."
[Danicka Musil] "Pizzaaa..." Danicka chortles gleefully, accepting the greasy slice without bothering with a napkin, without asking for one. She grabs the second large slice and holds it with both hands, taking a very large bite while Lukas is thinking better of asking why this woman, who considers everything from gallery openings to drinking at Mr. C's to taking apart arcane weaponry under a microscope to be appropriate ways to spend her leisure time, would do something as shocking as get high with college students.
Her teeth dig into the cheese and she looks like she's about to burst out giggling from sheer happiness. She doesn't, though. She reins it in, and chews that enormous bite, wiping some grease off her lower lip with the back of her wrist. Looks up at him as they near Maddox and Izzy and Kora again, blinking.
Swallows.
"I'm pretty sure we walked here. There may have been a bus. III left my coat at Trevor's apartment, though. He said he'd bring it to class tomorrow but I have to get it dry cleaned cuz it smells like ganja now." She takes another bite and, cheeks bulging, raises one hand in a wave to the Fianna, the detective, and the preggorz chick. She at least has the manners not to speak with her mouth full, though.
[Kora] "Not making enemies, influencing people," a mild, dark-eyed look from Maddox to Izzy and back again. The faint irony evident in the curve of her generous mouth widens. The shift is subtle as the difference between two shades of some designer color, but all the more evident for that. "Careful, detective. You'll make me proud."
Her chin rises, and she lifts the box by way of explanation. "If you will both excuse me, I'm heading back to the church. Need some milk to wash this down with, and I'm starving." A brief, flickering glance encompasses Lukas and Danicka in her excuses, and then the Fenrir starts around the corner.
[Kora] (Thanks for the scene, folks. Bedtime!)
