Snow in April?
Toby clutched his arms, soaked to the bone after the windy storm had sent his umbrella to God-knows where. And to make things extra pleasant, there was some snow starting to fall with the rain. "It's the middle of April! Why the hell is it snowing!" He pulled his handy rum bottle out of its rightful home in the inside pocket of his jacket, swallowing a large gulp. "That 'aught to bring a bit 'o warmth to these dead hands." He snickered at the bad pum and continued staggering down the street, singing songs so old most people's grandparents wouldn't even know them. "Through the tunnels he's-a-calling," He sang mindlessly, oblivious to the fact there was no such song but he sang with the same jazz spirit he had back in 1927. Peering up from the sidewalk he looked down the hazy street which was already coming back into focus and so he threw back another long drink from his bottle, finish it off. "Damn this metabolism" He complained, holding his now empty bottle upside down frowning at the lack of booze dripping out of it. He shrugged, straitening his jacket. "Guess I'll have to find something else to stave off this thirst." He frowned, now sober he was realizing how long it'd been since his last feed and for New York, catchable rats were in short supply. He was going to need some help if he was going to avoid biting the next human that he saw.