He took in Mori's newest order and went straight back to Carlson, observing the surroundings as he went. The pack sure did a number on the bar every time they got here, he felt really bad for the staff. "Carlson, Mori just told me she thinks there's a hunter here in the bar. She wants everyone to stay." He paused for a moment, considering his most previous order from an alpha. "Should I still be bringing Anton home?" He asked with uncertainty. Sometimes having two alphas was helpful but other times, like now, it was a little confusing.

Looking sideways as Anton stuffing her face with table popcorn, Kalib certainly hoped that no trouble would come about because he was sure that Anton wasn't going to be any help if, say, a fight happened. He also hoped that Fay was sober enough to help if the hunter caused problems for them. Their pack was strong but if half the wolves were drunk then. . . It'll suck for them, big time. As he waited for a response, he kept an eye on Anton in case he really had to bring her home.

~Anton~

Anton could barely stand it. Carlson was shouting commands for Kalib to make her leave, this random chick was clinging on her and basically screaming at her. Then Ryan had said no more drinks purely for the mess she made. AND Mori said we're not leaving, so who knows what to believe? Anton screamed as loud as she could to shut everyone up.
"I will leave, ok? But don't expect to find me at my apartment."
And with that, she promptly stormed (well, stumbled) out, flinging everyone off her.

'Hm, where should I go? Ooh, I know,' she thought whilst walking along, 'I'll go to the dump. Nobody will think to find me there!' And, thinking she was pure genius, Anton set off to the dump. She thought nobody was looking, so she applied a bit of ye olde 'wolf speed, jumping over bins and all that rubbish. She made it there easily and quickly, and began kicking the dirt around, taking out her anger. After a while of getting rid of the hate, Anton sat down against the wall and began to silently cry.

"Toilets huh? Sounds romantic!" Anthar winked back at the girl as she walked away to get a bottle. I'm either very lucky or my nightmares have stopped and this is a dream. This is going really good. Almost too good... And why did that guy just pass her a bottle?
Anthar was beginning to suspect something else was really going on here. But what if I'm just being paranoid and she's really into me? Ah, fuck it, I'm just being stupid. What is the worst that could happen? I have my two loyal pistols with me.

She was back with the bottle, and with a seductive look she took his hand and pulled him to where he guessed the storage room was. "Hey, I don't think I got your name. I'm Anthar by the way. Anthar Raclaw." He was getting more excited and nervous with each second that passed.

''Call me Mori,'' she smiled back at him, while leading him to a half-empty storage room. Inside, there were some stacks of beer cans, a few spared chairs, and a billiard table. Overall, a nice quiet place. ''Here... That's much better, isn't it?'' she asked, and turned around on her heels, facing him with a wondering eyes, while leaning her behind on a table. She then looked at the bottle she was holding, realizing for the first time just what kind of liver poison had Ryan given her. Oh, great! Since she wasn't much of a drinker, in fact she didn't drink alcohol at all, she had no idea, what kind of effect would that liquid have on her. She only knew that werewolves were supposedly able to drink more of it than ordinary humans did, before passing out, that is. Either way, she cared so much for her pack that she was prepared to break one of her most fundamental rules - no drinking alcohol. ''So, stranger, tell me about yourself. What is a man, handsome as you are, doing alone in this rat-hole? I know you are not from here, so don't lie,'' she asked him softly, while pretending to be awfully clumsy with opening that bottle in order to appear much weaker than she actually was.

''Call me Mori,'' she smiled back at him, while leading him to a half-empty storage room. Inside, there were some stacks of beer cans, a few spared chairs, and a billiard table. Overall, a nice quiet place. ''Here... That's much better, isn't it?'' she asked, and turned around on her heels, facing him with a wondering eyes, while leaning her behind on a table. She then looked at the bottle she was holding, realizing for the first time just what kind of liver poison had Ryan given her. Oh, great! Since she wasn't much of a drinker, in fact she didn't drink alcohol at all, she had no idea, what kind of effect would that liquid have on her. She only knew that werewolves were supposedly able to drink more of it than ordinary humans did, before passing out, that is. Either way, she cared so much for her pack that she was prepared to break one of her most fundamental rules - no drinking alcohol. ''So, stranger, tell me about yourself. What is a man, handsome as you are, doing alone in this rat-hole? I know you are not from here, so don't lie,'' she asked him softly, while pretending to be awfully clumsy with opening that bottle in order to appear much weaker than she actually was.

Her eyes are stunning.

"Well Mori, I hunt vampires for a living. I'm a vampire hunter." Anthar paused a few seconds, then put on a small smile. This wasn't the first time he had to answer that question, so he had an answer ready. "I'm joking of course. I am an artist. A painter. I travel the country looking for small towns like this. Small towns usually have the best views, and also they give me inspiration." Anthar noticed Mori was struggling to get the bottle open. "You need help with that?" Anthar pointed at the bottle, "What is it? Whiskey?"

What, did I become a lightweight all of a sudden? Fay wanted to reach out and snatch the bottle of whisky back from Kalib. But then again, she couldn't quite blame him for thinking she was about to get drunk. No one really knew that Fayth had a rather high tolerance for toxic drinks in her system. Honestly, four quick shots of whisky made her buzzed but it was nothing in the grand scheme. Also, Fay happened to work as a bartender here on some nights. She could deduct it from her paycheck if need be! It quieted the noise of her mind. Helped her focus. But she sacrificed a certain amount of self-control, and the caged animal of rage inside could be released a lot easier. Somewhat of a bad habit when she needed to forget things. The only thing that blew off steam and calmed the blazing fire of her anger was the one thing she wanted to stay away from; fighting. Unfortunately for her, being a warrior amongst werewolf ranks was perhaps her greatest talent.

Sometimes Fay got it, sometimes she didn't. She could be secretive and aggressive when instead she should try to remain as calm as possible. But when her life is on the line with hunters and potential enemy werewolves, it's hard to keep a zen master approach watching a pack completely fall into disarray. So unorganized at times. "None of you would survive more than a few days out of your little bubble here…" Fayth said under her breath. Watching Kalib speak to Carlson. Keeping an eye on Mori who was flirting with a hunter. There was no thought in her mind that said he could just be a deer hunter. Years of abusive experiences taught paranoia. Always thinking of her own safety. No one is who you think they are. Trust is not an option. Fayth understood the reasoning behind Mori's actions, but the omega wanted nothing to do with violence. Blood on her hands became old. Looking in the mirror at the scar on her face. It would never go away. Stains of death never washed away for her. Fay decided then it was time to change how certain functions of this werewolf clan were run. She hopped over the counter and looked right at Jesse.

"Tomorrow at noon. Since you seem to want a rematch so badly, I'll give you one. We'll see if you can entertain me for even five minutes." Fayth took the direct route at Jesse's pride. Feeling there was no way she'd turn down the opportunity for a fight. Though, she made sure to keep her voice down to a whisper. "Just our legs and our fists. No weapons. Not that I'm scared of you holding a baseball bat anyway." This wasn't about pride anymore. Fay wanted to use this as a teaching lesson. To show Jesse just how much she had to learn. If Fayth could motivate Jesse to become a better fighter, the pack could be more well off. If Jesse became less aggressive, that could be a benefit as well. "Meet me in the woods by Grey Lake. You know the spot. You can probably find me by scent if you've learned how to track me successfully yet." Fay pat her on the back as she followed Anton outside.

Fay's ears perked up as she took in all of the sounds of the night. The rustling of the leaves gently blowing from a soft breeze. Water from a nearby lake. Animals talking amongst themselves in the dark. Snaps of twigs, the wind caressing her cheek. Soon her scent picked up what it was looking for. Anton. The omega shot glances around her before running with her unnatural speed. Following Anton to the dump. Fay evaded bins, running with speed and grace. Landing with ease as she jumped over the last set of bins and found Anton against the wall. Crying. Fay trotted over to her, but standing at a safe distance away. Being a somewhat recent member of the pack, and taking charge of omega duties after Anton had been being demoted probably didn't sit well with Anton. For the moment, Fay let silence fill the air between them. Looking at her and then to the sky. Deep breath.

"It's hard to lose a friend." Fayth spoke. "I know the feeling all too well."

Carlson

Carlson turned to Kalib, and firmly stated - seeming to ignore Anton's whining and insubordinace "Kalib, get Anton back to the apartments. I am done dealing with her like a whining child." He said evenly, and with purpose. He had more important things to do, and he quickly realized that Anton's alcohol issue was not his problem- not right now anyway. He then, finally, turned to Stiofan "Don't follow them, Stephen, please" He requested "I will gather the Omegas tomorrow and draw up a battle plan of sorts. I don't like this just as much as you don't.... also, I want you there at the Omega meeting, is that clear?"

"Yeah, I'll be there," Stephen told Carlson, and walked away back to his seat. Stephen was happy, maybe Carlson wanted to make him an Omega. Or maybe he just wanted to show him what he should be doing. Stephen hated how Carlson was always telling him what do to, "Do this" he would say, and "Don't do that". Stephen was fed up with it. Fuck it, Stephen thought to himself, I want to follow the Russian bloke, so I'm gonna follow the Russian bloke, I don't care what Carlson tells me.

Stephen got up, making sure to pick up his phone, and walked out of the pub with purpose, and began heading towards the block of flats. As he got further away from the pub, he got faster and faster, eventually breaking into a run. Thankfully, he had his car keys, and just had to unlock his car door, and begin driving as fast as he could to the hospital. He had to know what the people from before were talking about. His Porsche Boxster could get up to sixty miles per hour in less that six seconds, and could go at one hundred miles per hour. It wouldn't be long until he got to his destination.

Jess watched Anton leave the bar with a frown. There went her most promising chance to get some fun tonight. She sighed, remembering that she wasn't even proper drunk either. What a waste of a night so far... She sat back down at the counter, looking for something, anything in reach to snatch and walk away with while everyone was busy eyeing that man Mori dragged behind her. What ever interested everyone so much in that human was beyond her. He didn't even look that hot.

"Tomorrow at noon. Since you seem to want a rematch so badly, I'll give you one. We'll see if you can entertain me for even five minutes."

That came about as expected as a friendly hug. She'd have bet money that Fay would rather try to bash her head in with an ice pick before asking for an honorable duel. She coudln't quite hide being surprised but got ahold of herself within two seconds.

"Damn straight I can. I'll rip you a second hole, girlie."

She was fully aware that a fair hand-to-hand brawl with the blonde was not likely going to go down in her favor, but anybody who knew Jesse Williams knew that there was no such thing as the word "fair" in her dictionary. It wouldn't be easy to get another body or two involved in this, considering the short time frame for such preparations. And further considering Anton was probably still having the most lovely hangover, by then. There was no way to back off from such an offer, though.
As she watched Fay exit the bar, another idea crept into her mind. Maybe she didn't have to wait until Noon after all. The girl waited for almost a full minute longer, sitting at the counter, looking as inconspicious as humanly possible. She then slowly got up and strolled over to the door. It was unlikely that anybody cared enough about her to even notice. Once outside she wouldn't have trouble following her smell, the fresh dose of Whisky made it even easier.
Jess wasn't aware yet that Fay meant to follow Anton, but a thick fragrance of rocket fuel along the way would make that obvious soon. Unless anybody stepped in her way or otherwise tried to stop Jess, the girl would have a nice and relaxed stroll over to the dump, using a rather human pace of walking.

Anton had barely sat there for five minutes when she heard some crashing around her. Assuming it was just some squirrel, she didn't look up. When she heard a deep intake of breath though, she did, and she saw someone standing there.

"It's hard to lose a friend. I know the feeling all too well."

Anton looked up at Fay, not with hate, but with a feeling Anton didn't know all too well. Abruptly stopping crying, she stood up so she was slightly taller than Fay and, ignoring her kind words, boldly said,

"Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. You really, really should go before you get seriously hurt, you know. Look, there some glass there. Imagine what would happen if you trip! and painfully hurt your head," Anton's enthusiasm on the word painfully could not be good, "And a pretty 'ikkle girl like you might not want to get their face mashed up..." Anton's voice had turned into an excruciating whisper. "Well," she spat, "I know all about you, 'Nightshade'! Not so much of a mommy's girl now are you, when she's DEAD! Jess told me all the horrible things you say. You miserable little being, go to hell!" Anton's cringe-like whispers had turned into a shout, and her face looked like it was about to explode as she expressed her dislike for Fay.

"Well Mori, I hunt vampires for a living. I'm a vampire hunter." Anthar paused a few seconds, then put on a small smile. This wasn't the first time he had to answer that question, so he had an answer ready. "I'm joking of course. I am an artist. A painter. I travel the country looking for small towns like this. Small towns usually have the best views, and also they give me inspiration." Anthar noticed Mori was struggling to get the bottle open. "You need help with that?" Anthar pointed at the bottle, "What is it? Whiskey?"

Mori almost choked on the notion of the word hunter, but she somehow managed to cover it with a weird laughter. Meanwhile, her heart began to race like Anton on her way to a free booze. She was now sure that this guy was not an ordinary human. What kind of person would otherwise use the words 'vampire hunter' when flirting with a woman? No, no, no… he was a hunter for sure. Or an idiot, whose life was now in danger just because he made a terrible joke. Either way, Mori was convinced to find further proof, even if she had to turn his insides out in order to do so.

''Right. And I thought you were seeking inspiration in the lonely women like myself,'' she smirked at him. She wouldn't believe him, even if she didn't suspect him of being a hunter. Mori knew all about men, since she was practically raised by them from an early childhood on, and she could always tell when they were hiding something. ''Yeah, I guess so,'' she answered him. For a moment, she questioned her decision, thinking it might be better if she used it to knock the guy unconscious (just to be on a safe side), but then despite her temptations handed the bottle over to him. ''I have no idea. But it's very popular around here, and I thought you'd appreciate a taste of something local,'' she spoke with intended ambiguity, bitting her lower lip seductively. Alright, I think I'm getter better at this, she thought almost proudly. Being a beautiful woman really had its perks.

Carlson

Carlson sighed deeply, and observed the mess around hi. He wasn't too sure what to do about anything right now, and while he saw that Mori was scoping out who might be a potential hunter, and Kalib was now jobless, he had to do some reassigning. "Kalib, I want you to just keep a sharp eye. No more fighting is going on, but since there seem to be... undesirables here.... please just keep a close eye"He asked.

Nanix

Nanix hated these nights, and it got worse when the attractive irish guy left. Well now the rest of the night was gonna suck, since she was going to berate herself for not getting a conversation out of him

The effect of the whisky was minor. Warmth flowing through her body, though her mind was nowhere near being cleared up. Her emotions misting over her thoughts, hazing even the easiest of actions. Fay supposed this was how it was meant to be. An omega with her past had no easy decisions to make. No rest to be had. Sure, she might be able to go wild with drinks or even take drugs. But only once in a while. Fayth felt she didn't have the luxury to wallow constantly in misery like Anton was doing. Purgatory of sadness was not the destination Fay had in mind. Freedom was the one thing she ever craved.

When Anton stood up, Fay's entire body tensed up. Ready for any sudden movements. Taught to expect the worst of any situation. Even though Anton was taller than her, Fay didn't feel intimidated. There was little fear left inside of her, and the sight of a drunken Anton trying to tower over her was not even on the list. She knew Anton was once a omega, so the girl had the ability to fight. Meanwhile Fayth had been an omega in a brutal clan and she survived. Fay stood still as a stone wall. Her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white listening to Anton speak of her dead mother. She had spoken an off-hand comment about her mother being dead to Jesse once, but that was all. There was nothing else to share. Whatever these 'terrible things' Fay had said were most certainly a fabrication by Jesse.

Fay had it in mind to knock a few teeth loose from Anton's jaw, grab her hair and smack her whiny face against the wall. Violence was just tiring. And she wasn't drunk enough. Fayth remained composed. "Is that all?m mmmm"

"You're not going to frighten me. I've fought larger before. Wolves included." There was anger laced into Fay's words, the bitter kind that builds up from years of abuse and never seems to go away. Like an anchor latched onto her dragging her to the bottom of the ocean to drown, and Fay couldn't escape. Yet, intertwined with the bitterness there was an eerie calm.

"My mother's dead, and so is your friend. Nothing can be done to change that. Certainly not drowning yourself in that goddamn bar sulking around. I'm sorry you feel so lonely, Anton. You might be older than me, but I can see you. Better than you know. I don't want to fight you but if you feel the need to take a swing at me go ahead. I'll give you one free shot. If you take it, you won't get another one."

Again he nodded then turned away to get back to his seat. With Anton gone and Fay leaving right after her, Kalib began to feel uneasy. "Oh great, Jesse is gone too." He could only imagine what that girl was up to at this time of night. "Probably went to start a fight again." Settling down in his seat at the bar, he wished he could just go after them to make sure they were alright but Carlson needed him here to sheriff anything that went wrong.

The swivel of the seat amused him slightly, turning his torso back and forth to relieve some boredom. "Can I have another rum and cola, please?" The Californian called, sighing. As he worked, he pondered some stuff about his past like his parents, his friends. . . his boyfriend. "Would he be considered my ex now?" Sure, he assumed they all thought he was dead but it would be nice to have a call once in a while. It's not like he dropped off the face of the earth or something. He was young and free-ish. What happened to all those dreams of college and being a fireman? Oh yeah, all dashed like the motherfucking wolf that bit and turned him in the first place. "So much for "running with the pack", like the movies say." He whispered begrudgingly to himself.

Jess reached the cold, refreshing outside unnoticed. The air inside the bar was stagnant as hell, but one didn't notice unless confronted with normal levels of oxygen. The young woman took a few deep breaths, looking like she simply enjoyed the prickly cold sensation. But really, she was sniffing out the trace of Fay and Anton. As soon as she picked up the scent of the latter, her strolling pace turned into a bouncy, accelerated fast-walk. Those two, together in the same place, possibly far off from possible witnesses? That had to end in a bloody mess. There was no way Anton and Fay would have a normal talk ever, Jesse thought. Too much bad blood, omega vs ex-omega tension. A great deal of that instigated by her own petty lies whenever she tried getting Anton to attack someone, no doubt. To be fair, this pairing was the most obvious target for any instigator with half a brain.

Though taking her time at first, Jess soon became impatient. How far had they gone? What where they doing anyway? Did Fay maybe plan to beat up Anton tonight, in secret, so she wouldn't be able to help Jess gang up on her at the noon-beat down? As dishonorable that would be, it was not beyond Fayth. A woman did a lot of despicable things to save her face. A dirty smirk crept on Jess face at the notion, how far the shining example of an omega had fallen.

The scent became stronger around the old dump. Curious place to go at night indeed. Jess felt the cold steel of her brass knuckles and clutched them in her fist, invisibly inside her pocket. She could hear two familiar voices and quietly crept around the piles of trash and junk, not silent enough to properly sneak up on someone with their sense of hearing, but not eagerly giving away her presence either.

Mori almost choked on the notion of the word hunter, but she somehow managed to cover it with a weird laughter. Meanwhile, her heart began to race like Anton on her way to a free booze. She was now sure that this guy was not an ordinary human. What kind of person would otherwise use the words 'vampire hunter' when flirting with a woman? No, no, no… he was a hunter for sure. Or an idiot, whose life was now in danger just because he made a terrible joke. Either way, Mori was convinced to find further proof, even if she had to turn his insides out in order to do so.

''Right. And I thought you were seeking inspiration in the lonely women like myself,'' she smirked at him. She wouldn't believe him, even if she didn't suspect him of being a hunter. Mori knew all about men, since she was practically raised by them from an early childhood on, and she could always tell when they were hiding something. ''Yeah, I guess so,'' she answered him. For a moment, she questioned her decision, thinking it might be better if she used it to knock the guy unconscious (just to be on a safe side), but then despite her temptations handed the bottle over to him. ''I have no idea. But it's very popular around here, and I thought you'd appreciate a taste of something local,'' she spoke with intended ambiguity, bitting her lower lip seductively. Alright, I think I'm getter better at this, she thought almost proudly. Being a beautiful woman really had its perks.

Anthar twisted softly, not expecting the bottle to be closed so tight. It was. Failing to open it the first time, he tried a second time with more force, finally getting it opened. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Now she will think I'm weak.
Trying to hide his embarrassment, Anthar smiled at Mori. "I think we're missing some cups." He turned around searching the shelves around him for cups. He spotted a few glasses sitting next to some utensils on one of the shelves. He took two and set them down on the billiard table, then he poured from the mysterious drink into both glasses. He put down the bottle and handed one glass to Mori and the other he took for himself.
"Cheers!"

He raised his glass high, then put the glass to his lips and took a sip.
"Wow, that is some strong shit!" He exclaimed, scrunching up his face. It was stronger than that vodka Randal gave him when he turned 21. "Anyway, what is a beautiful woman like you doing alone at a bar in the middle of nowhere?" he asked. He could already feel the alcohol starting to take effect.

Thomas

A steady sound of beeps greeted Thomas as he woke up, the smell of slight death was in the air. Slowly opening his eyes, the sound of beeps was apparently his heart rate, and being strapped in a ton of IV and his arm practically in mummy wear, the white walls and the plain walls quickly made him realize that he was admitted at a Hospital, again.

"Crap, again huh? Well whatever, haha." he said outloud to no one in particular. Noticing no one was really around, he shrugged it off "Well I was never really the popular one." he said then laughed in a slightly sad tone. Lying back down, one of the Nurses entered and became wide eyed at Thomas, quickly running off and fetching one of the doctors. The doctor came in and told him about how he was lucky and the like for surviving with that deep of a wound and blood loss, Well that's not the first time I've heard that. he thought to himself.

After a bit of surprised faces and condemning tone about him not going to the hospital immediately. Thomas just nodded and smiled and they seem to let him off the hook, though one of the Nurses has been glancing at him frequently with a tinge of red. He raised an eyebrow to this and thought, Must be imagining it. After a bit of more talking and the like, they finally let him rest, with a sigh he lied back down on his bed and was about to close his eyes, reaching for his phones where he thought it was, patting around the area he quickly became anxious. That phone... It fucking has all the hunters information. Where did I lose it?

Calling one of the Nurses, the nurse who came was the one who Thomas thought she was glancing at, though she didn't meet his gaze, he sternly said to her, "Would you mind getting the woman who brought me here, right now, there's an issue." with only a wondering gaze, she nodded and disappeared into the hallway. Sighing, he lied back down again.

"Follow him."

Sound on the other end of the phone.

"Your wounds will heal. Follow him." Fire glowed around the face of a muscular, powerful man. Scruffy face with the look of a man who had seen far too many winters. Where smiles went to die. Inside one of the caves they found in Greyville, The Black stood amongst his other spies. The entire pack was not present. Just The Black, his son Eric, and another of his trustworthy scouts; Jake. His follower who had escaped Thomas' traps and inflicted wounds on him was Deon. "Deon. I won't ask again." Silence on the other end, then sound. "Good. Text me the address of the hospital he ends up at." Click, the phone slipped into his pocket. One step ahead of everything. The Black turned to his son.

"Put the fire out. We're moving out. I'll need you to keep watch at the hospital for suspicious humans. Notify me immediately."

"Are you going to kill him?"

"No. He might lead us right to your sister."

"If she's even here."

"I've been a tracker for many years. The trail continues here… I need to put fear and doubt in these hunters anyway."

The orange glow within the cave snuffed out. Darkness as the men swiftly ran through the woodlands of Greyville. Running with unnatural grace and speed through the forests. Seeing in the night what no one else could see. Smelling and hearing what humans would miss. Soon the text came rolling in. Not long after, The Black appeared at the hospital.

"Look casual." To this, Eric and Jake pulled out cigarettes and smoked. Looking around at anyone walking in or out of the hospital. The Black trotted forward. Boots on his feet. Dark jeans and a tight black shirt. His eyes an unnatural golden color that he couldn't turn off anymore. A trait he had gained from killing too many people. Though, he attributed it to a medical issue. Still, The Black did not fear to be seen by hunters like this. He disappeared into darkness much to quickly. The Black entered the hospital and exchanged looks with Deon who acted as a waiting visitor, sitting on one chair. Hiding the wound on his back and his leg. Healing quick.

"Excuse me, my son was just admitted in here."

"Name?"

"Young. Marcus Young. His name is…"

"Thomas?"

"Yes."

"One moment." The nurse left the desk for a moment. The Black leaned over the desk to see her computer. Thomas' information posted up. Including the room number. Within a moment, The Black was gone as she arrived back at the desk. Moving away and heading up an elevator. He walked down the hall. Boots slammed against the ground with heavy, ominous thuds. Arriving at his room and opening the door once Thomas's nurse had left. The Black strolled in. Grabbing a chair and taking a seat.

"Hello, Thomas." The Black pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. "You don't mind, do you?" He didn't care. The Black lit the cigarette and smoked near Thomas's bed. Even when he lit the cig, his golden glare never left Thomas.

"Those are some wounds on you. Must've been one hell of a knife fight." Deep breath.

"Unless it was an animal you were hunting. A wolf maybe…"

Thomas

As he was lying down on his bed, the constant beeps of his heart rate became white noise to him. He was about to fall back to sleep due to the comfy bed he was lying on, this was till an immense feeling of dread filled his being. He looked around and saw a tall, figure, his very presence oozed fear, not towards him, but to others around him. His presence choked up Thomas, if there were ever alarms in your head that tells you something is dangerous, this was the time. He entered the room, then strides to a chair and quickly gets comfortable. Thomas' fight or flight kicked in and his adrenaline started to pump.

"Hello, Thomas." said the tall frame with a cold and menacing tone, "You don't mind, do you?" while lighting a cigarette, with no apparent care for Thomas' consent. His Golden eyes was an oddity that perturbed Thomas, he couldn't help but feel a bit unnerved.

"Those are some wounds on you. Must've been one hell of a knife fight." he said with a deep breath, glare never leaving his own, "Unless it was an animal you were hunting. A wolf maybe…"

Through general conception and judging by his demeanor and cold eyes, he had already figured out this intimidating stranger was infact a werewolf.

"Who are you." was the only phrase Thomas was able to choke out, practically glaring at him at this point.

Anthar twisted softly, not expecting the bottle to be closed so tight. It was. Failing to open it the first time, he tried a second time with more force, finally getting it opened. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Now she will think I'm weak.
Trying to hide his embarrassment, Anthar smiled at Mori. "I think we're missing some cups." He turned around searching the shelves around him for cups. He spotted a few glasses sitting next to some utensils on one of the shelves. He took two and set them down on the billiard table, then he poured from the mysterious drink into both glasses. He put down the bottle and handed one glass to Mori and the other he took for himself.
"Cheers!"

He raised his glass high, then put the glass to his lips and took a sip.
"Wow, that is some strong shit!" He exclaimed, scrunching up his face. It was stronger than that vodka Randal gave him when he turned 21. "Anyway, what is a beautiful woman like you doing alone at a bar in the middle of nowhere?" he asked. He could already feel the alcohol starting to take effect.

Oh, for God's sake, you don't have to pretend. I know you hunters aren't as strong. She thought while observing him struggle with opening that bottle. While he was searching for the cups, Mori listened to the sounds coming from the bar, trying to distinguish what was going on in there. Since there was no sound of screaming, yelling or breaking things, she concluded that everything was alright.

With hidden disgust she took the cup Anthar had given her, and clenched her fingers around it, wondering how could she get herself out of drinking alcohol. She followed Anthar's example, and raised her cup high in the air, only to then lower it again, far from her lips. His particular facial expression was enough proof to her, that she made a right decision not taking a sip. If Jet Fuel did that to him, God knows what would have done to Mori. But since she couldn't just stand there with a full cup in her hands, she had to act quickly. After his question, she took a few steps forward, and landed her hand gently on his chest. She licked her lips while observing his, and then raise her gaze up to his eyes. ''Me? Oh, I just come here to lure good looking men into this room, and then tricking them into drinking that awefully strong shit of a vodka,'' she smiled temptingly, sliding her hands to the sides of his waist as she was slowly to hug him.

"Ahem..." Yvette cleared her throat as she leaned on the doorframe, her eyes glancing back and forth between Thomas and the mysterious man. "You're no guest here... Even I know that." She said, glancing down at her nails, then back up at the man in his seat. "Should I call security and take you out?" The girl closed the door behind her and stood near Thomas' bed, her hand resting on the plastic arm.

The nurse had managed to call her in on time, and thankfully before things seemingly grew dark and heated... This man... Whomever he was, he was not here to make friends, obviously. This raised suspicions... A lot in fact.

"Mhm..." The young woman pulled a chair of her own and sat down with her legs crossed and on her lap. "Isn't this quaint?" She said, giving them both a small smile before frowning and leaning back. "Do I have to call security or are you able to leave yourself, sir?"

He shouldn't have gotten distracted.

The dark black motorcycle passed 150mph, the banging noise elevating into a soundless roar as dust and debris blasted backwards from the pure speed. Hitting a wheelie down the dirty country-road; the same shortcut he knew Yvette took to get to the hospital, Dimitri drifted passed a small outcropping of bushes, cleanly hitting a 360 as he, at the same time, shifted gears, revved the gas, and leaned forward, eyes narrowed from beneath his black, visored helmet, the Russian hunter continuing to drive at the same high-speed. Within a few minutes, he was out of the forest, the city's hospital in sight, in the distance. Cars were milling about, and he could see a few late-night civilians looking the direction he was blasting from, fright in their eyes. Smoothly, Dimitri shifted gears once more, his motorcycle easily and instantly going back to a more normal 60mph, while Dimitri himself sat back from his leaned forward position, dodging around a few unnamed cars as he began to head directly towards the hospital.

__________

The sleek motorcycle parked outside of the hospital, right beside what he could see was obviously Yvette's sportscar. Standing, Dimitri sat his helmet down onto the bike's handlebars, before unzipping his jacket and cracking his neck abruptly to the side. The ride was sort of bumpy back in that forest, but regardless, it was necessary to get here in time; in time for what? He didn't really know. In time for Yvette not to bitch about him being late, probably. Feeling on the edge for some reason, Dimitri glanced around onceHe walked into the hospital, sharp eyes casually taking in the occupants of the waiting room. There weren't much people there, since it was really late, but he noted what seemed to be an injured man sitting down, with wounds on his person, along with the nurse at the front desk glancing around with an obviously confused face.

"Is there a problem?" He asked, his heavily tinted Russian accent deeper due to his distinct lack of caring very much right now.

The nurse looked up. "Oh, yes. A tall man came in and asked about a patient, and then, when I came back, he was gone." She said, glancing around once more, before focusing her attention on Dimitri. "Anything you need, young man?"

Dimitri's eyes were slightly narrowed now, but from his sunglasses, you couldn't see. "No, mam. I'm here to see Nick Jackson." A random name...but he felt something was wrong...something was very wrong. It was the sixth sense from being a hunter for more than a decade. He had began to distinct their scent slightly from other humans, and there was definitely the slight dog-like scent pilfering through the air. He wasn't superhuman, and so he couldn't exactly feel directly from where it was going, but the talk of that man surprised him. He needed to go check on Thomas.

"Oh...he's in Room 132!" So, Jackson was an actual guy admitted here? Interesting. Dimitri gave the woman a nod, casually turning and beginning to walk up the stairs. Room 135 was Thomas' room number; at least, Yvette had texted him that while he was on the way here. As he got closer to Thomas' room, the feeling of deja vu began to grow steadily and steadily, until he was close enough to hear Yvette's voice, and another man's. Dimitri's scent was practically non-existant, from a specific poultice his father taught him to create, to combat a werewolf's nose, and his footsteps were as silent as a sneaking Navy SEAL.

"Do I have to call security or are you able to leave yourself, sir?"

There had to be a werewolf in there. He wasn't going to take any chance. Reaching behind his waist, underneath his leather jacket, Dimitri's calloused hands wrapped around what seemed to be the handle of a sawed-off shotgun, the rather stubby, powerful gun easily hidden within it's dark black holster. Pulling it out into his left hand, Dimitri took a long, silver bladed knife from his other holster, quickly glancing down the hallway for witnesses. There weren't any.

A heartbeat pause, and then, he swiftly and silently pressed a knee into the doorknob, the sharp and quiet strike breaking the inner mechanism of the lock, and easily letting him inside without the usage of his hand. Quietly, he swung into the room, the sawed-off shotgun pointed right at the tall man's head, while his knife was gripped in a white-knuckled fist, Dimitri's eyes glaring as he stared down at the sitting man.

"..." He said nothing, waiting for the man to answer Yvette's question. If he would leave, then Dimitri would let him...for now. He only killed werewolves that needed death. But if he didn't leave....then he would die. Dimitri wasn't stupid enough to think that there was no way for him to die himself, but that was why he had busted the door's lock and handle, rather than open it calmly. He could easily escape and reassess the situation, along with dropping his weapons and grabbing Thomas. This wasn't his first rodeo.