ooc:: 300+
The coaled pelted hybrid had left the mansions walls fairly early in the morning. He hadn't brought anything with him save for what he considered to be his favourite Shakespearean work, Macbeth. The blue covered book was held tightly between the teeth of his Lupus form. He had not visited the state since he had left behind immaturity, but it had been a sudden decision to that morning. The sun hadn't risen far yet and the orange (nearly red) glow gave off little light, so Angel's journey was made more with senses than with his icy eyes. By time he reached the borders, as he was thinking of waiting there to see if he could catch any trespassers, his jaws had frozen into a locked position over the spine of the book and he had to practically let it fall away. Any other day his bible would have been the book he travelled with. But now he had decided to use his Lupus form for a change he could only afford to carry a singular text with him.
The Tirones stretched out his hind legs behind him, weary for the walk that took more out of him than he expected. He was somewhat unadjusted to the Canadian winter, despite being born into a mountainous town. Angel had always put it down to the fact that his father had relocated the family to the capital of the region. Barcelona was a damn site hotter than the foothills, he'd learnt this when he had to shear the locks, that had been much longer back then, to a much shorter length slightly longer than the look he sported in the present day.
Angel took a few moments to return to his two legged form, quickly retrieving the book form the ground. As he sat down beside a large rock, his body almost melting into the form, he gave watch to the horizon as the sun rose a few inches more, the coast was clear. No trespasser could be spotted from his choice position at the borders. Confident in his work, Angel turned to the book, letting his black claws take up the corner of the page and setting his icy gaze towards it.