(no subject)

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

Brichester's on Wells' travel roster for the next week, so he's been getting things in order at the Academy as best he can for a temporary step-out. The process is nervewracking at best. Calming down after a week's worth of pushing the girls extra hard without snapping anybody's something that requires either shooting time or hammers and anvils, so he's been in Etna; he's still got the passport from Hephaestos, after all. It's helped.

He's armed at the moment. He'll be going out to shoot later. For the moment he's getting a cup of tea, because he could really use one.

Comments

[weirdwilbur.livejournal.com]

"Hullo, thar," says a . . . man nearby. "Yew look upset. Anythin' I kin dew ter halp?"

He seems friendly. And since Wells is a werewolf, the narration will add that he smells weird and helpful and nervous and weird.

(OOC: Going out in a bit, but I just HAD to tag--I happened to click Spoon's entry tag three days ago and have been reading you guys ever since.)

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

Wells' head comes up sharply at the voice, which is not right at all, and then the smell hits-

He's a werewolf. He might live with humans, and he might have been human once, but there's the wolf on the inside now. There's a word for a wolf who lives with people. If Wells' ears could move they'd be laid flat back against his skull right now, because the instincts of dogs are nothing but the watered-down instincts of wolves.

"Doubt it," he says, in an accent mostly of London. There's a tinge of north country to his words as he adds, "I've got a hunt ahead of me, and work behind me."

[weirdwilbur.livejournal.com]

". . . buy yew a drink, maybe?" Helpful!Wilbur is helpful. And annoying, after a while, but he's trying.

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"Thanks," says Wells, as tightly civilized as he can manage. "But no. I'm fine."

The new moon's coming on Monday. This is as safe as indoors and around-other-people gets for Wells, and he's still got to hold onto the wolf's leash with both hands.

[weirdwilbur.livejournal.com]

"Okay." Wilbur smiles slightly. "My name es Wilbur." He thinks a moment. "Whut ur yew huntin'?"

(Okay, going now. See you in a few hours?)

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"Monsters," says Wells, his voice tight and his eyes narrow. "Don't know what sort just yet. Might be demons. Might be something else altogether."

He doesn't offer his own name.

[weirdwilbur.livejournal.com]

Wilbur nods. "Hope yew win. Thar's nasty stuff out thar."

He moves on.

(OOC: He has a dog phobia. Next time they bring the dogs in, madness WILL ensue. See ya!)