boş şehir

Levent Kartal · 03-10-2012, 11:53 AM

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Word Count :: 634

Levent was used to cities, big cities that managed to be empty but bustling at the same time. The city meant skyscrapers and roads with dead cars, great artificial landmarks in the backdrop, sprawls of suburbia hosting luperci families. It meant narrow streets packed with merchants, and other streets devoid of all life. It meant rats in dumpsters whose contents had long rotted away and cats navigating old fences and fire escapes. It meant life and din in the commons areas and love and death in the deep alleyways. It was civilized and uncivilized in a way that the great expanses of wilderness could not be, and it called to a wholly different part of the man than the wolf inside of him.

Halifax was not the same as the other cities; it had the empty but little else. A few scents hooked in his nostrils and dragged him around different paths, and there was plenty of evidence of canine activity: the remains of a shaken rat here, a bundle of blankets there, wet pawprints on pavement and something that looked suspiciously like a trap. He found himself disappointed, but then again, Nova Scotia was not like Europe. He’d known that coming here; it had been most of the reason he’d come here.

Frowning, scratching the nape of his neck, the Turkish wolf decided that he might as well scavenge around. There had to be something interesting among the old buildings and decrepit cars, and even if this was not an area of immense traffic, he could go elsewhere to pawn off whatever he’d gathered. There were likely some fools in the area who didn’t know they could just come to the city to get such trinkets.

He called Wilson close to his side, and the cat snorted as what looked like a rat whisked out of sight. Like with any new area, he wasn’t sure what types of individuals could be in the area, and he did not want his best friend eaten because of carelessness. Besides, he knew hawks and the like loved to perch on the high buildings.

The nearest building, a squat antique shop of sorts, had a broken window. The hole didn’t look big enough for a wolf to fit through, so the merchant supposed any valuables were still left inside. He grinned up at the window, just a few feet out of reach, and then looked down at the tomcat.

“Want to hop in and open the door for me?” Levent asked, brows raised.

Wilson narrowed his yellow eyes and lifted a paw. “Even if I could reach the door-handle—assuming it isn’t one of those bloody knobs—I have no thumbs.” His whiskers twitched as his stern expression diffused into amusement, and he curled his tail with pleasure. “You’ll have to do it yourself, mate.”

The brown wolf scowled quickly, glancing back at the window. He knew he could fit through if the glass were out, but as it was, it seemed very sharp… Sighing, he removed his satchel and dropped it on the ground beside the cat, reaching back to make sure his head-cloth was tight as if that would do anything. “Bana şans dileyin,” he muttered to the purring feline, and leaped at the window.

The glass shattered, and it might have cut him if not for his thick fur. He fell down onto a table that broke under his weight and landed among many baubles and doohickeys. Groaning, he lifted his head then stared in confusion at a second source of light coming into the shop—the crack of a door.

Wilson beamed at him as he slunk in. “Well, blow me; it was already open.”

Levent blinked, clenched his fists as he pushed himself into a seated position, and burst into raucous guffaws.

table and manip by raze; template by kitty

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