CHPT 375: My Nose Never Lies....

As it does on most winter days in New Gloria, night fell quick. Quick and fierce like the strike of a feline in the shadows. Only winters icy jaws never got a good hold on Claude and his pack's flesh.

Lupines in winter were Lupines in comfort. At least for the young Potential and Giant-Killer.

Claude couldn't say such a thing with so much confidence for any of the other Variants...

But, as their comfort prevailed in the heart of winter. It also shriveled out of existence like the sweep of a cold breeze when they found themselves entering FeliAlu City for the dozenth time. The Full Moon was only a day away. One more day for Claude to spend pushing himself and Ursula in preparation for what was to come. She would survive the change, but the change wasn't their only issue. Far from it. Claude could practically feel it in the air.

The violence that waited to be properly expressed when the Moon showed it's full ghostly white face to the world below. It waited just outside of their reach. Even as they roamed through the City-- anxious and already feeling it's pull, like a warning. Or a warm-up. He could feel the waiting game the Moon played with his mind.

Ursula could as well. He could see it in the way she fought on their Night Runs. He watched her often. More intense and obsessively as the Moon opened night by night. By now, he could see the difference between ferocity and rage in her. Rage was a lacking factor in most of their fights-- hunts.

Her axes faded into the back, replaced by icy claws and overpowering bulk. Then she'd recharge with the rarest meat she could have without Claude damn near having an aneurysm. Even with her naturally omnivorous makings, she thirsted for blood.

Luckily, he was getting better with his abilities as a Lupine Alpha. He wasn't like Dolion-- controlling and taking pieces of information from Samuel and Tai's brains from miles and worlds away as Arne explained, but he was able to quell the hybrid predatory power that was awakening within his friend. Then again, he had practice through his Link to Frosty.

He only hoped it was enough practice for their next task within the city of creepy cats and Detectives....and disrespectfully inaccurate wanted posters.

Maybe not so inaccurate....

***

Since their last few times in FeliAlu City, the festive air of Christmas had faded, leaving the City undeniably darker-- gloomier in it's parting wake. Even with the remaining glow of the magical lanterns bordering the streets below. And the torches adorning the signs that hung from every glass monolith of a building littering the lands of the Vada District. It felt...less.

Still, with all the time he'd spent in such a place. The sight of the looming glass and cement buildings, touched by the wild and broken by the birth of an apocalypse, he remained stunned every-time he entered. It made him feel so claustrophobic when combined with the people walking on either side and above him on the metal High-Walks.

"[Remember Claude, your thoughts are important for more than just yourself.]" Arne seeped into his thoughts in all his posh glory.

The words hit him like a whip, straightening him out in an instant followed by his eyes flipping over to his right.

Ursula walked at a matching pace, her tattered black sheet of a cloak now covered a spread of slip on upper-body armor. Something that faintly flopped about against her chest and back. Perfect for removing and adjusting in case the wearers size changed. Her shoulder guards were a bit more snug-- and didn't move an inch from beneath her cloak.

As she walked, her thick calloused hands moved at a quick pace, working to shove the meat-based street food into the shadows her hood cast over her face. He was amazed at how she always found time to eat.

Jealous as well. He hadn't enjoyed food in a such a way in....well in context, a very long time. But in reality, not long at all. The point was, his own personal dilemma made him an outsider even in the aspect of eating with friends.

She turned, feeling his eyes on her. Adding two more to the hundreds of people that passed her, turning to the sound of her loudly consuming food. He both enjoyed and hated how their faces turned from disgust to shock and finally to even deeper disgust. Some of the Men and Women exiting the nearby Bars and Casinos with hazy eyes added another type of gaze to the mix as their eyes fell to her lower body. He didn't enjoy it. They noticed. And quite a few received a gift from the unseen force that was Frosty as he zipped and dashed through the streets beside them like a ghost on steroids.....godly steroids.

Her eyes faintly glowed from the shadows of the hood, shedding light on the meat sauce and portions of breading that formed a ring around her lips and tried their best to spread to her freckled cheeks, "You're right. I can share." She said before shoving the half eaten Turkey leg in his face.

"I don't remember requesting any, Ursula." Claude replied before attempting to move his head away from the food.

"Listen up Mr. Control-freak. You can try to suppress and manhandle your thoughts....but I can still hear the growl in your stomach. You don't have to turn into my security guard because of what's coming tomorrow. Just relax. Don't make me look weird alone, you goatlover." She pressed, partially joking.

"I help out one Satyr.."

"[Two. Also the design of the creature tattooed on your shoulder could be described as a wolf-like creature with goat horns..]" Arne corrected.

"Ok, fuck it." Claude huffed.

Before he could even get out another word, Ursula shoved her half-eaten food into his mouth.

"Hey!--....Why the hell are you acting like I can't eat on my own."

"Because you weren't before. Now shut it the hell up and chew. I know you have your whole.....food-funk, but who in the frozen hell doesn't like spicy smoked turkey?" Ursula said.

Claude didn't attempt to argue. He wasn't persistent in this department. Not in the way he was with fighting.....and existential vendettas. So, they continued down the street. A six and half foot tall man covered in scarring and bladed spears being forced to eat the half eaten remains of the young brawny blue-eyed warriors cheaply bought street food.

How menacing...

When they reached The Grand-Knight's Public GuildHall, Claude was working to wipe away the pieces of food around his face while he fought to ignore the hideous charred and metallic tastes of cooked meat still lining his mouth. Awakening his newest Skill from Fenrir never felt so tempting.

Probably not the best thought to have when entering a building full of men and women looking to skin beings like himself and Ursula alive....

Homicidal and Hyper-Carnivorous thoughts aside, they'd made it to the Main-Hall. Walking through the fiery red carpeted halls and flaming torch riddled walls to get to the mainhall always left his eyes stinging and his mind uncomfortable.

He was no Architect or Interior Designer. But the sight of every aspect of the building screamed of one thing. The gold decals on the walls of the halls. The expensive polished wood counters the receptionists worked at. The bartenders, scantily clothed and meticulously groomed to look like absolute bombshells. It was all like visual appetizers that led to the main course meal at the end of the road in the main-hall.

The Sun powered Sword decal. Like it was the focus of the whole building with it's Vampiric Elder Ash lining and expensive artistry.

Ursula's Father and his arrogance infected every aspect of the building and spoke one word. One feeling.

So gaudy.

"Gaudy as shit....and insufferable. If I could, I would slam a glacier on every bit of property he owned and force him to continually rebuild it until he found some taste." Ursula said, responding to his thoughts as they looked around the Main-Hall at the mingling Night Runners.

"Something tells me you don't think he'd ever gain a sense of taste." Claude replied, adjusting his mask and hood.

"That's the plan." Ursula replied with a sigh, sounding joyed by the thought of being subjected to eternally destroying her Father's egotistical pieces of property.

"[Speaking plans. Ready your mind for your own.]" Arne cut in.

Claude took a calming inhale, listening to the sounds and scenting the smells that lingered on the air in the Main-Hall.

Old blood, sweat, leftover fear, anger, leather, metals.

Talking people. Some angry, some laughing-- more for others than themselves. And many with words slurred by the overindulgence of Beer.

The final sound was most important.

Wing-beats. Followed by a light weight landing on his shoulder. When he opened his eyes, nothing had changed other than the bartenders that seemed to be always moving. Camo Runes tended to do that. Hide changes. Hide the sight of another.

"Thank you for your help." Claude whispered to Blackbeak who sat on his right shoulder in silence.

The bird replied by pecking his head lightly. Not exactly a warm handshake or a scowling hiss-growl, but he got the gesture.

And he had eyes. The eyes of a bird to help him in finding any of his targets. Targets that had only made it to FeliAlu City recently.....very recently if his talk with the Bounty Hunter Cassidy meant anything.

If only they'd come a week later. But, it seems it was just his luck that they decided to settle into city life around the Full Moon. He wouldn't let that fact stop him from locating and identifying the ones who yearned to do the same for him.

If it all went according to plan, they'd never see him and his pack coming.

"Alright. Search for people who seem more rugged than usual. You know, leathery skin from too much sunlight. If they're stupid, they'll be wearing gear that exceeds the profits of their Tangent bracket. Also the smell of blood-- heavily concentrated around their faces." Claude relayed to Ursula through their Pack Bond.

She nodded in silence and walked down the Main-Hall-- the sound of her steps fell in line with the distant people moving behind him. More Night Runners, naturally. All remnants of the jokingly brash and warm demeanor faded. Even the scents of anxiety that flowed off her in droves faded as she rode the waves of calm and Potential-powered focus Claude sent through their bond.

"[She'll be fine.]" Arne reminded him.

"Yea....today..." Claude whispered. "B--"

FWSH!

WOO!

He'd forgotten what he was going to say. As if he was comfortably riding his train of thought before being ripped off the tracks and thrown into the abyss of a chase. Prey Drive tended to have that affect on him.

It seemed to have an affect on others as well.

He could feel their eyes on him as he stood frozen, leaned over with his arm outstretched, holding whatever had flown past him before in his hands.

"The hell...?" Someone said from behind him.

Assumedly the one who threw the....crushed up napkin.

Claude quickly regained his composure, "Sorry....uhh...jittery reflexes..." He said back to the Night Runners without looking back at them.

Instead, he looked down at the napkin in his hand, noticing the dark marks and strokes lining the paper inside the crushed folds. Almost like it was used to wipe away paint...

"Jittery..? More like damn good reflexes." A voice boomed from behind him.

If his nose hadn't given him a handful of information beforehand, he still would've turned to face the voice simply from where it emanated from.

High.

Just as the mans head was. Seven feet off the ground. He was giant. Even in his simple dark tank-top and loose-fit bottoms that stretched over his quads and calves. In his left hand, he held all his armor bundled up in a net of thick rope. Just from the way the veins in his arms bulged-- he knew it was heavy. Tank armor.

As if his near giant-like size was enough of a indicator.

The man smiled down at him, causing his scraggly long brown and white beard to twist like a dead animal coming to life on his scarred and pale-skinned face. The smile didn't spread much either. Never even attempted to reach his eyes that were drowned in dark rings brought on through unnatural means. Like years of dye and makeup had permanently damaged the pigment of his skin around each soulless marble.

"You think you could do that with one of his arrows??" The giant asked, a teasing glint ignited his eyes.

"Come on, Erik." The assumed Archer said. His offended feelings worn plainly on his fatless angular face and bald head. Every word he spoke reminded Claude how much his breath stunk. It also reminded him that there were three other people behind the giant. Another woman and two more men.

"HAha! You're right. I'm only teasing. That was a damn good catch though, friend. See ya around..." The giant said, bowing his head slightly, causing his singular braid to flop over his shoulder.

With nothing left to say, he stood back up and headed off towards the sparring area that was divided off from the Main-Hall by a see through piece of rune-written glass.

The sounds of the world faded as he watched them leave. The last thing he heard being one of the giant-man's subordinates saying something about his eyes.

It was so ironic. In his thoughts of how the enemy would never see him coming, the tables had turned immediately after. And it was he who didn't see them coming. Quite literally.

But, he did now. He saw them. Not for who they presented as, but for who they were. It brought the memories flooding back like a tsunami of willful Shape-Shifting and violence.

As they disappeared, he found himself whispering a single set of words.

"Your beard.....it smells like blood....."

"Your beard.....it smells like blood....."

"Your beard...I see the blood..."