Hungry

[Blue Eyes]

It was dark in the city.

The night was a wire: a narrow band of darkness rolling across the sky, through which everything flowed unseen, conducted through the blackness with great effect. Distant illuminated sights shone out like literal beacons, visible from far further than they would ever have been at day. Headlights sailed down highways like lotus candles floating on rivers; wing lights blinked, red and green in the sky above. Noises travelled further, louder. Scents stood out stronger on the crisper air.

There was steam in the subway as he scampered into it's tunnels, rising from the ground as if the earth was on fire. The subterranean maze of catacombs weaved an intricate web beneath the city, speeding him towards his destination almost completely unseen. Clattering sounds of midnight trains echoed down the tunnels, but he knew that he was safe; safe enough at least to leap from trackbed to platform effortlessly long before a train would arrive.

He crossed the platform, ascended the stairs with lightning speed; ducked the ticket barrier. No one noticed. No one paid any attention.

Nothing to see here.

He crossed a street; his icy blue eyes settled on a woman loitering on the corner, a tattered red dress hanging loosely from her meth-addled frame, skin cracked and wrinkled, eyes sunken, soul gone. Pheromones and desperate body language rolled off her, trying to convince anyone that passed that you want me. He found it hard to believe that anyone would. She was oblivious to her surroundings, mind so eroded by her addiction that she couldn't even hear him breathing. He advanced, moving even closer behind; it would be so easy to strike, so easy to put an empty shell such as her out of her misery -

He stopped himself. No. That wasn't what he did. That wasn't what he allowed himself to do.

He scampered away, bounding up on boxes, crates, bins, a few clanking strides up a fire escape to bring him onto a low rooftop. He sprinted on, vaulting the canyons between buildings with ease. He knew where he was going, vaguely; but even if he'd had a specific address he doubted he'd be able to tell one apartment building from another in this city. Fortunately, he had other methods.

He leapt, paws absorbing the impact with the sidewalk with ease. Back in touch with the ground, he resumed his hunt. His senses scoured the world around him for any sort of clue - a scent, a sound - but nothing; too much confusion, any hope of a trail lost in a crowd. A low snarl escaped him, personal frustration and instinctive anger conspiring against him as he straddled the line between his animal and waking minds. He mustered his self control and continued on, traversing the cluttered alleyway behind a nightclub. An unpleasant wave of sound assaulted him as it's music blared, an unpleasantly persistent rhythm wrapped in vaguely heard lyrics and discordant rhymes.

Two blocks later and he finally saw her; caught a scent a few moments before as she climbed out of a car a little too new and formal-looking to be a taxi. His gaze swept around him, suddenly self-conscious of being seen. Cover was lacking; his only option was a grocery store, door propped open by a weighty box. Scents of food wafted from within and made his mouth come alive with anticipation; but he wouldn't indulge himself, he would resist.

He bounded inside, the clerk fortunately half-asleep and too distracted by the news to notice the large wolf wearing a backpack that scampered past the bank of juices and wines that lined the back wall. He slipped through a doorway into the store room, found a secluded corner where less sticky with neglected spillages than anywhere else -

[Connor Kelly]

- and changed.

The chill hit him instantly as his fur melted away. He slipped the backpack off his naked shoulders as swiftly and silently as he could, rummaging for the clothes that he'd hastily stashed when he'd transformed before. Getting dressed was an exercise in practised urgency: the only thing worse than being discovered as a wolf running about the place was being caught naked.

Slipping out of the store room was less easy, but he pulled it off - a misspent youth of petty crime helped with that somewhat - and made the token gesture of grabbing a few packets of junk off the store's shelves as he passed. The fact that the clerk still hadn't noticed him as he walked right up into his face suggested that he probably could've slunk out without having to pay for anything; but it was too late now. He dumped the chocolate bars, potato chips, and a handful of crumpled dollar bills onto the counter.

The clerk still didn't pay him much attention.

"Keep the change, eh?" Connor muttered, grabbing his snacks and leaving as fast as he could. His stomach growled - it was stupid to thing it, but he'd always imagined that's where the wolf hung out when he wasn't the one in the driving seat - and he contemplated trying to shove all of his supplies into his face at once, but his priorities kept him in check. He stashed them in his backpack instead, and jogged out into the street, weaving through parked cars as he made a bee line -

Or is it a B-Line? Bees aren't exactly known for the whole flying in a straight line thing.

- towards the blonde he was after. Who wasn't alone. Which was awkward. He didn't care.

He didn't bother to announce his presence either, call her name, or anything like that. He just walked up to her as fast as his stubby little Canadian legs would carry him, and flung his arms around her.

"Thank god you're okay," he breathed, a lot of effort required to make him release her and let her see who he was. "I saw the news, and-, and-"

He sighed. Smiled. A whole other bunch of expressions and noises and weird breathings thrown in for good measure. "You have no idea how good it is to see you, Alice."