Watching the two, the coyote swished the bottle back and forth, leaning up against the siding. Once Aemon got up, he passed the bottle to him with a nod. Help yourself. I need to cut back.He stepped over to help Wraith up if she was coming. He broke out some of the glass so she wouldn't cut herself. He seemed a nice sort, despite his scarred face and body, the bones that promised a morbid attitude that he wouldn't deliver. His actions were calm and quiet- though that might just have been the alcohol tempering him. Hard to tell either way. He thought of the last time he'd been in that form. It must have been years ago. He hadn't walked on four legs in a long time. He even slept as an Optime, though it would have been much more comfortable as Lupus or even Secui. He thought of this as he returned to the dreadlocked mixbreed. Yes, yes it is. The spirits truly do work great beauty. I'm Carrion. He watched the window sill. He had a soft spot for children- he didn't know any from the pack yet, though. He was glad he'd finally get the chance to meet one.
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