Okay. Well, if you want to reply again then go for it, otherwise you can archive. :3
"Oh, plenty in the city, man," the hippie offered willingly, grinning from ear to ear. Finding the little treasures humans left behind was a bit of a task, but the activity always became easier with time and exploration. One place in particular, a store somewhat run down and now useless, had already been ravaged through by what Razekiel could only assume to be more Luperci, but cigarettes and lighters had been willingly left to gather dust. The things never seemed to lose their flavor; being that many wolves hardly knew the existence or purpose of cigarettes, they were free for the taking despite the soothing charm they brought. This was, of course, amongst a variety of other smokable pleasures Razekiel had found, but cigarettes were easiest to obtain. He grew his own pot, of course. Wait, had he been talking about clothes?-- "Clothes too, man. Everything you need's in the city for the taking, man. Cigarettes, new dreds, whatev'."
Razekiel grinned back at Silas just as contentedly, though it was becoming increasingly obvious that earlier drugs were making more of an impact on his current demeanor than the cigarette he'd just finished. "Well, I go back to my walkin'," the coyote announced, stretching his back and arms extravagantly. "The world's made for walkin', yeah? Mother Earth wants you to see aaaall her beauty, man." He shrugged a little, twitched his nose, and widened his grin. "Cheers, man. Enjoy the smokes."
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