Anselm is fully shifted, but walking along on four legs. =P

Light, shrill tones escaped through pursed lips, bounced off of dingy brick walls, and found their way to his ears again. The echo of his whistling was strangely appealing--perhaps because he'd never heard anything quite like it before. The narrow alley didn't swallow up sounds as quickly as a cave might, and the high pitched whistles came back loud and sharp at first then gradually faded to lower notes as they raced further away. Mach one; now that was awfully impressive.
Still, the random tune that he produced was wrought up by his subconscious, and he noted the echoes simply as interesting--although extraneous--information. He was much more preoccupied with the random piles of junk that were laying around. He moved along carefully and low to the ground to avoid broken glass. Every so often, he'd sit back on his haunches and use his hands to dig through some of the stuff. Once he found something interesting, he'd tuck it away in his backpack and move on. So far, the list of treasures included: four AA Duracell batteries, one small tin for storage, two shiny switch blades, and maybe half a dozen unidentified knick-knacks that he'd inspect more closely in the future.
The allies behind some of the major shopping districts sure were interesting. Holding up a sealed bottle containing some unknown liquid, he squinted at the label as he tried to discern the contents. In the meanwhile, his whistles morphed into a distracted hum.

--

Footsteps echoed down the long alley. He turned his head to look at who was approaching--female, Dahlia de Mai. His eyes caught the glint of metal and his ears fell back immediately. Then, she told him what he already knew: he was from Inferni. Then again, she also called him a coyote, which he was finding to be increasingly asinine. He was more wolf than some of the hybrids that led wolf packs in the area, and anyone who thought otherwise was clearly unobservant. Other than his slightly elongated snout and ears, and the golden coat, he could practically pass for a full blooded wolf.
"Oh, shut up," he hissed at her, red eyes rolling. She'd stopped in her advance; he was ready to spring up immediately if she chose to attack, but he had quite an earful to give her first. "Did you miss the memo or are you too thick to know what a ceasefire means?" he spat. Snorting loudly, he continued; he was far from done. "You know what I find hilarious?" he asked, tone laced with sarcasm. "You all peg us as the bad guys; the instigators! And yet you just had to come down this one alley that I was in, when there are hundreds of others to go through. You act like you don't even have the option of, you know, just fucking off and leaving me alone."
Although he was clearly irritated, he had to admit it felt good to get all of that off of his chest. Was she really going to be so foolish as to rekindle the war that they'd finally gotten out of? What was with this, drawing weapons and coming closer rather than just accepting peace and continuing on her way? The alley was isolated enough that it just couldn't be a major route. Honestly, for every good, reasonable wolf he found, he could swear there were half a dozen nasty ones lining up just waiting to cancel them out.

Oh. XD; Whoops. -Dies.- -Babbled.-

It had been three long months ago that he and Gabriel had found the coyotes slaughtered and put on display for all of the world to see; it had started in May and tentatively ended in August. (Happy summer vacation, folks!) Halfway through, his niece had been kidnapped. Less than a month later, he'd taken Firefly himself for bargaining power. Unlike the medic, he'd been on the front lines the whole time, and that time had passed painfully slow. He was really glad that everything was over with, and that was why he'd reacted so angrily to the prospect of an epilogue being played out right here, right then on the dirty streets. He didn't want that; he honestly wanted for it just to be over. Consequentially, he was relieved when the dark-coated female stopped in her advance. He thought her slightly insane for it--and it shown in the incredulous look in his eyes that was coupled with a relatively blank expression--but at the moment he'd take madness over violence. If she'd been living under a rock the whole time anyway he supposed he couldn't blame her. Inferni hadn't called any official meetings yet and there was no reason to assume that the Dahlian's had either. Still, he had a feeling that the clan would have one soon; he saw now how important it was that everyone be up-to-date on events.
Although her apology and confession aroused only a blank look from him and little more, he blinked and welcomed the distraction when she brought up the bottle he was holding. He held it up for her to inspect; a deep brown liquid was inside, and whenever he would jostle the bottle slightly bubbles would form and run up the sides. The faded red label was hardly legible, although he tried to sound it out. "Ko... ca. Cole-a." He shrugged, having never heard of soda before--perhaps she had? It was clearly some kind of beverage, though, and he twisted off the cap. The contents foamed and spewed over the surface, running down his hand and leaving a scowl on his face. That never happened when he opened bottles of liquor before; maybe whatever this was was spoiled? Placing it down as the top third of the bottle overflowed onto the street, he sniffed at his hand where it had come into contact with him and cautiously licked it away. "Hm, it's sweet," he observed, somewhat surprised, as though he had been expecting battery acid or something.