Heath had never really understood what the other’s intention had been. When he had first arrived in the city the gray and black hybrid had one thought in mind. To smother emotion and savor the bitter sweet taste of his favorite liquor. It was working, and this eve was every bit of a success as Heath had strived for.
A nod came as the male spoke his packs name. Heath was proud to be a Miracles man, never having been proud of anything in his life. He took a sip at the next thoughts; they were things he wished to shield his thoughts from for the moment.
“Well, not here.” He said with a point to the floor. Silas’ accent made it difficult to understand at time, and with the haze the vodka was creating it was getting more difficult.
“Yeah, mainly dogs and mixes.” Heath said, thinking off all those that lived there. There was a huge group of domestics in the ranks, their King included. Heath picked up another bottle, for the road. The brisk clear evening was calling him,
“Come on!” he encouraged the handkerchiefed male to follow. He didn’t really understand that keeping him in one place had been his new friends intent, but the night was young and there was plenty to see.