[html] http://i950.photobucket.com/albums/ad34 ... bottom.png); background-color:#5A5C5A">
» sweet.  and likewise, thanks for keeping them moving~
"Definitely not a bad thing; good to know we have eyes and ears outside of the clan." For the longest time, that responsibility seemed to fall primarily on his shoulders--though nobody could really say he minded. The Caelum appeared more wolf than coyote and he was opportunistic, using his blood to his advantage in combat and politics alike. New clan members, whose scents were not fully integrated with the coyotes', were probably the most valuable when it came to infiltrating claimed territory. Still, he could hardly expect (or even ask) anybody to do this: it was a dangerous mission, and they obviously wouldn't know the lands as well as he did if something went wrong. Anselm had been kicking around this neck of the woods since before any of the packs had settled here, and even of those he visited less he knew the more major routes in and out.
The notion of customers was one he understood well enough. Anselm didn't care who someone was as long as they brought in good business. "Oh? Maybe we've both found ourselves another, then," he remarked smoothly, giving Cotl (who by now, he decidedly liked--the quirks were humorous to the bronze wolf whose tongue was already worse than that of a sailor and a construction worker combined) only a moment to wonder what his "trade" was. "I can trade you some smoke for some ink, if you're interested. My usual guy is.. pretty far out of the way." Good thing they were heading to Halifax; that's where his stockpile was. He liked to check in on the garage when he passed through the area anyway, and this would be as good of an excuse as the next, so long as he also hit up one particular warehouse he had in mind.
"Cool name, though," he added, referencing the horse. "Sounds like a relaxing way to kill some time." The hybrid was entirely too obsessed, personally, to let an animal carry him about--it wasn't unusual for him to run straight from his den to his garage with few pit-stops for a quick drink or to catch his breath. Although he also did a fair deal of weight training, these endurance exercises were what kept his form lean and trim. His speed may have been average, but his near daily regiment would have been enough to satiate the triathlon trainers of yore. They took a direct path through the Dampwoods, with Anselm altering his usual route just slightly so the horse would have an easier time (he didn't think it would want to wriggle through brambles and so on). Before much longer, they'd reached the fringes of the decaying suburban sprawl that enveloped the towering buildings of centre city.
"There's this one place that's got everything under the sun, but I was gonna hit that up on the way back out. Mind if we hit up my garage first?" Tucked away in a south-west pocket of the city, it was somewhat out of the way... but the things he intended to get there would be lighter and less cumbersome to transport than what he needed from the warehouse. For the time being, it didn't even occur to him that Cotl's horse might be able to assist in the mass carriage of blankets, pillows, and whatever else they might find.
| [/html]
|
