InsaneJournal

Since the bombings, his appointments had eased up, people had called with obviously hollow excuses saying that they were busy or something of one sort or another had come up and they had to cancel. It wasn't that Brendan was at all surprised, rather that he had expected more from the people with whom he had been working for a few years now. True, some had stuck with him and weren't spooked by the bombings from earlier that month; obviously they had been targeting Other establishments or places the known supernaturals frequented for one reason or another, but there were a loyal number of his clients who didn't suspect anything negative would come of having their personal trainer, werejackal or not, visit their home. Brendan was thankful to those bold individuals for sticking to their guns and going on with their lives regardless of the consequences. While he didn't expect anything would come of being so open about his nature and the business he ran, he did know that humans would always fear -- to some degree -- what they did not understand.

Still, there were benefits to having unexpected time to himself. Slipping his phone back in his pocket, he ordered another smoothie from the passing waitress and glanced out of the window of the little café where he had decided to have lunch. Not by himself either. The text he had just sent would alert his fellow jackal on the other end any minute now and hopefully, within ten minutes, give or take, he would have himself some company. It wasn't so unusual for him to spring invitations of one sort or another on her, breakfast, lunch, dinner or something else, and he never had to worry about her showing up, either. He had known her so long that all he needed to do now was send those text messages and she would show up before too long.