A wide alleyway used to make deliveries. There's a dumpster sitting next to the wall near the fire escape. The alleyway is rather clean compared to most alleys. Though there are still large boxes and crates piled up around the doors. There's loading dock at the end of the alley.


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Mikayla Kadestra Quintin Bruning

Getting to know the city is rough. Mikayla's only been here a week, and already she hates the stretch of concrete and buildings. She'd give anything to be back… well anywhere that's heavily wooded. Here in the city there's only one or two places to get away, get her feet on the grass, and just run.
Central Park is good for this, but it's difficult to run the way she really wants to. At least during the day. Not that she can leave the shop very much anyhow. Her grandmother isn't up for running the place on her own, so Mikayla (who goes by various aliases depending on her mood) winds up taking care of the majority of things during the day.
Tonight though, the week before the full moon, she's been itching to get out of her skin and run through the wild. Her clothing was tucked away in a backpack in the alley, in a cubby hole only she knows about so that she can retrieve it when she's done her run.
Timing her crossing the street with the disappearing of an unmarked cop car, and a yellow taxi Kay runs from the edge of the park, between two parked cars, and to the alley.
Stark naked.


He's been told that it will be difficult to balance a night life as well as his practice schedule, and any other social life he plans on having. Most don't know just how used to late nights he is, especially those under the full moon. He's been doing well so far and shows no immediate signs of slowing. The biggest issue that Quintin has at this point is figuring out his personal life.

Clearly he has been put in the friend zone. That's likely a good thing, though. It's safer for all of them that way.

Yet at this moment it all seems to be irrelevant. This is the time where he almost feels free. The wind in his hair, the fewer amount of people to contend with. His senses are not overloaded with all those things that he's had to force himself to get used to. Now he can clearly hear even the faintest pin drop within the distance so long as cars don't heavily use their horns, or any trains go by.

In this case he can hear the shuffling around of someone moving, and moving rather quickly. Even in the darkness he can pick up on something familiar about the form. He's curious, and obviously so.

The male werewolf follows to where he believes that figure has gone to. He doesn't announce his presence but figures he doesn't actually have to.


Without using her slight speed advantage, Mikayla still makes it to the mouth of the alleyway before the next yellow taxi flies by with its glaring lights and honking horn. She's about to go hunt for her cubby hole when she hears a sound behind her.
Footsteps. Following closely. Not so closely that she could lunge and ask why someone's following her. Not that she could do that anyhow, considering she's got her arms crossed over her chest and is trying desperately to not be seen.
Giving the night air a double sniff, she cocks her head to the side and slowly spins around.
"Who's there," she asks with a slight Romanian accent. She's been trying to kick it, but after living there so long the accent is tending to stick.


The voice is heard before he can get a good glimpse of the person he's followed. This is to be expected. What /isn't/ to be expected is that the voice comes from a female - a very naked female. The naked female also just happens to give him that familiar sensation, one that signals that he is around his own.

This is a very awkward situation, and he's suddenly not at all concerned about his lack-of-relationship woes.

Quintin does his very best not to stare, or at least to stare at her face. It is a rather good looking face. No, that thought doesn't belong there. He resists the sudden urge to look away and continues to look at her face.

"A friend."

Then all of a sudden he realizes just how inappropriate he's being. "Oh geese." He isn't much, but he unzips his hoodie and offers it over to her. He does so in a way that blocks the view of her body from him.


Mikayla laughs, tossing her tussled hair over her shoulder. Obviously she doesn't mind the staring at all. Either she's used to it, or she's very comfortable in her own body.
It's when she gets that familiar sensation, that's more than a scent on the air, that she stares back at him. Quite openly. She has run into a few of their kind in her travels since her grandfather kicked her out, but none that she would have considered friendly.
"I have clothes," she says after a moment, another laugh following shortly thereafter. "But thank you."


Personally, it's been some time since he's had any prolonged exposure to a female of his kind. The closest he came was the minor in the graveyard, and that was a random and weird encounter. There's also the fact that she was in high school. That does a lot to calm even the most feral of werewolf attractions.

This is very different than that.

"Did you want to get dressed?" Quin isn't stating it as a suggestion but rather a simply question. "I can stand guard if you did." The hoody remains in place as he speaks, out of respect. It is certainly quite hard to keep trying to shield himself from her form but it is the noble thing to do.


"Would you?"
Mikayla doesn't really need him to stand guard, or keep the hoodie in place as she dresses. Though, as she happens to be doing something completely illegal at the moment and would rather not get caught, it is handy to have a lookout.
Dipping behind several boxes that are stacked up four high, she reaches behind them and pulls out her backpack. Dropping it atop one of the lower crates, she pulls open the drawstrings. A black bra, matching panties, and a black off the shoulder dress are taken out. Each item is put on quickly before she reaches up toward her head. Pulling her hair half-back, she twists it in place and pins it with a black bun pin.


It is /extremely/ difficult not to watch any of what happens before him. Extremely difficult. Yet he is a man of his word and he promised to stand guard. Besides, it seems creepy even for werewolves to meet in a dark alley and stare at each other naked.

Only once she speaks does Quin dare look in her direction. It's a slight relief to see her fully clothed. The other slight to it is disappointment. He /is/ a male, after all, and this sensation being around her does start to get to him from time to time.

"That's what friend's do." The hoody is thrown over his shoulder as he moves to stand with his arms before him, in almost full on bouncer mode. "Though this isn't really the best place to go running around naked."


"I doubt there's any place in the city that we could consider a best place." Mikayla's been looking since they arrived, trying to find a good place when next week comes around that doesn't involve her being locked in the basement of the shop. Her grandmother is very adamant about that. If she can't find a safe place, she goes in the cage so as not to hurt anyone.
Kay hates the cage. She's never had to use it, she doesn't want to use it, and the thought of being locked up drives her mad.
"Are you a friend?"
Moving toward the stranger, she tries to size him up. Circling him, she sniffs again. It's a bit odd, but she's trying to scent him.


Scenting is permitted. He'd be outwardly doing so if he wasn't trying to keep from coming off as a total pervert. "Perhaps not right inside the city, but there are places nearby." He's not even certain which Pack she belongs to, if any, but she seems friendly enough. "I've been shown a few places. There are one or two that aren't completely dominated by the pack."

His voice trails off as she approaches him. Quin's eyes lock onto her form as he sniffs at the air. Surely this is what he gets for attempting to 'follow his heart' earlier. Other than that he remains still, not afraid to bare his arms, so to speak. "I could be."


Kay's perspective has changed in the three years since she's been a wolf. She knows wolves scent each other much like dogs. She knows that they don't tend to care about others of their kind looking upon them during the change. She's stopped letting things bug her so much because it's not as though she can do anything to change what happened to her.
"Can't head out of the city." Mikayla doesn't explain why, since it's really just her stubborn refusal to leave the one remaining family member she's got alone for too long.
"The pack?"
Sniffing at him again, she backs off and gives him some breathing room. He's big. Muscular. Chances of her being able to take him on in either form are slim.
"Why would you want to be, sufletel1?"


"If that's your choice." He's clearly not trying to force her into anything. "It's not too far, honestly, and we could be back by morning. But that's your call. If you're not going far, you really need to be more careful. This city is full of strange things and they're not all as peaceful as I am." For as much rage as he feels, he honestly does consider himself peaceful.

Then again, the gift from Siobhan has killed some of that anger, he's noticed.

"Yeah, my pack." Quin sniffs her again. As he does so his arms fall loosely to his sides. It's almost starting to make sense. "You don't have a pack?" That seems rather unusual. "Are you not a natural either?" He's been lucky enough to actually have someone to help him.

The thought of her being alone actually saddens him. "Why wouldn't I want to?" She really must not be used to this. "We're not all about violence and which one is stronger."


"I will… consider it." Mikayla will speak with her grandmother, and have her read the cards or do augury to see if she should be trusting this one. Over the last several years she's made a few mistakes in that regard, and she really doesn't want to do it again.
"I've run into stranger." Coming from Romania, there are plenty of stories about spooks in the night. Vampires, monsters, everything the imagination can conjure up.
"No." It answers both questions slightly tersely. "No? Tell that to the man who tried to tear me up and leave me for dead." She was lucky. No claw marks. But the bite should have been enough to kill her.


She'll consider it. That honestly is all that he can ask for, not that he even knows this woman. Still, there's something a little familiar with her story. Perhaps he should be less trusting of people that he meets. Unlike this stranger he has yet to be burned, at least in his adult years.

He actually looks at her quizzically. There are rumors of many types of evils about in the city, other than what he has seen or actually knows about. To think of anything worse than that is rather odd for him, but he isn't going to enter into any great debates with her. She /was/ naked not all that long ago. He doesn't wish to agitate her.

With a sigh he moves just enough to remove the wife beater that he's wearing. It's the first time he's done so in public. Along his chest is a rather nasty scar, deep set and in the shape of claws. "I've been there. That doesn't mean that I was left alone. The one that did this is gone, and I was actually offered help." Once he lived and all that.


It is there, on the tip of her tongue, to tell him he doesn't need to take his shirt off. If Kay's being honest with herself, she's curious why he's doing it. She waits, quietly and patiently for him to remove the wife beater. Once it's off and she sees the scars, she moves forward. Fingers trace over the scar. Frowning, she looks up at him with slightly moist eyes.
"Unnecessary brutality. A bite would have sufficed."
She's luckily unmarred, but she's fairly certain that it's because the man-wolf was frightened away before he could harm her again.
"You were lucky, sufletel."


He'd scoff at her if he were the type. It's only now that Quin actually looks away from her. "If I were lucky, I'd be dead." There are far more scares than what can be seen and he's never fully gotten past them. Certain people have been able to help him, and he's hoping that it will only continue, but they are there all the same.

It takes a moment or two before he can look back to the stranger. It's a strange sensation to have anyone touch his chest, let alone one that he's seen naked not all that long ago. "But I was told once to view these as life challenges. We can make the most of it, or let it rule us completely."

He still struggles, worrying about his humanity, but at least he is trying. "Look. I don't live too far from here. You can always try to find me if you need anything. I can tell you how." Oh, Chance is going to love this.


"No, you are lucky to be alive." Mikayla looks up at him with empathy. She's been in his shoes. After her grandfather kicked her out, she felt that if she were lucky, she'd not have survived. She'd not have put her grandfather through that kind of heart breaking pain, again.
Without having removed her hand from his chest, she runs her fingers over the scars, still frowning. "You will come by the shop. Grandmother will have a balm that will help these heal." Not completely, because she bears no real magic. It will help lessen the scar a little though.
Taking a step backward, she grabs the backpack and slings it over a shoulder. From the front pocket she pulls out a business card and hands it to him.
Her head cocks to the side curiously. Pulling a notepad out of the pocket with a small pen attached, she hands it to him. "I will accept this offer of friendship."


He's not certain if it's pain or pleasure that he feels as she touches him. It's different, that's all he knows. Part of him would like to explore more to find out, the more rational side realizes this is not an option that he'll just want to up and consider. His hand moves ever so slightly, as if he's going to reach out to her, but he never does.

Quin just nods. He's lonely, that's his problem. That's why he doesn't feel so lucky to be alive. Knowing or even suspecting that anyone else could be in the same situation somehow calms that feeling, even if just slightly.

The card is accepted first. He doesn't fully view it, but makes sure there is something on it before placing it in his back pocket. He then takes the pad offered and writes down his address. He also lists his cell just in case. "I work nights, at a bar called Purgatory. Seriously, if you need anything, please ask."


"Quintin," she says, reading the name from the notepad. Mikayla is aware that he's not actually read the card, just scanned it to make sure she wasn't trying to scam him.
"Kay," is offered once she folds the notepad closed and stuffs it back in that front pocket. Buckling it back up she watches him. He's far too kind for his own good. Which she tells him. "You should be careful who you are nice to at this time of night." For all he knows she could have been an escort or prostitute that got taken and scammed by a john.
"If I have need of anything, I'll ask. Same goes for you."


This sounds familiar. "You're right, but I can't help it. If I can help anyone, I will. That's my place in life." If his college major says anything it's that he takes this claim extremely seriously. "Although perhaps you should be careful as well. I could have easily been feral, or a vampire looking for some fun."

Not exactly sure what to do, Quin offers a hand out to the now not quite stranger. "It is nice to meet you though, Kay." He's about as approachable as he can get at this point. "I will be sure to visit to see about potentially helping this." His other hand touches his scar.

"Thank you for accepting my offer."


"I've dealt with feral before. Vampire too." The one thing Kayla knows for sure is that the vampire that tried to have fun with her was awfully sick afterward, giving her a chance to run from that town and not look back.
Giving a playful tug on the wife beater he's holding, she hops up onto the lowest crate. Pulling the shirt over his head, she grins at him. "I know we tend to run warm. The night isn't exactly comfortable without clothes on though." He can put his arms through the holes, she's not meaning to dress him.
"You're welcome."


Somehow he's not exactly concerned about catching a cold. Still, when she practically dresses him anyway the shirt is properly put on. He then actually puts his hoody back on. "Running warm doesn't begin to cover it." He really needs to see if there are any charms out there to help with encountering females. This is an awkward feeling.

"Until then, be safe?" It isn't as if she can just make that promise, but he'll ask it of her all the same. "I really don't want to go avenge the death of someone I barely know."


"I would hardly expect that," Mikayla replies, chuckling afterward. The thought that someone would want to avenge her death is honestly humorous to her. If only for the fact that she barely knows him.
"I'll head directly to the nearest subway and go home. That is the safest I can promise to be." There could be unforeseen circumstances that prevent her from getting home safely, but that's the chance one takes when wandering New York alone at night.

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