[aw] and it goes like this

Levent Kartal · 09-30-2012, 11:16 PM

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The coywolf introduced himself as Trent from Cour des Miracles, and Levent frowned half-heartedly as his groggy mind tried to process the French. He guessed that there were a lot of packs on this side of the ocean that liked to adopt foreign-sounding names, which amused him slightly. Maybe he could start up a Turkish-sounding pack and parade around with his fancy foreignness, as if he didn’t already make the latter part of his lifestyle.

“Can’t say I’ve heard of it,” the brown wolf said apologetically, reaching back to scratch at his messy hair and trying to remember if he had really heard of it. Maybe it was one of the couple of southern packs he’d missed during his trips, but he could only really say that he was familiar with Cercatori d’Arte (and maybe the northern packs that you weren’t supposed to visit as a wolf trader). He shrugged and made another effort to smile. “I’m Levent.” Petting the cat, he added as solemnly as if addressing a Luperci companion, “And this is Wilson.”

Trent admitted to be searching for human stuff, and the man glanced at the clothing and garbage strewn about before the other added an assumption about the haphazardly-heaped items. He laughed and shook his head quickly, his demeanor turning a bit more genuinely friendly as he shoved some more of the crap aside. “Hayır, not at all. I only stayed here the night; I figure anyone is free to help themselves to all this junk. Or, at least, I make a habit of helping myself to things.” He looked over his shoulder, twisting about slightly before reaching into one pile of clothes and hangers. He came back up with a pair of bellbottom jeans, which he tossed in Trent’s direction before realizing that even pants could look like a lethal weapon to the wrong eyes. Though—he probably would’ve gone for the hanger if he did intend to murder the fellow. The morbid thought was almost funny.

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