InsaneJournal

Current mood:	busy
Current music:	Simarik - Tarkan

Who: Friedrich and Marie-Pierre.
When: Morning, December 1940
Where: A random Paris alley.
Summary: Interesting people meet other interesting people and interesting bargains are made.
Complete/Incomplete: Incomplete.
Rating: PG13 for potential bloodshed.


Friedrich was navigating by smell and touch right now; familiar flagstones, familiar scents. Not by sight - during the day, in a city, his vision wasn't all that good, shades of black and white in what was typically brilliant color. That was the only thing he hated about his wolf body - the color was gone.

He was moving fast, avoiding people carefully. Sticking to shadows and doorways and alleys and the lesser-used side routes. He didn't like sneaking, but he wasn't really supposed to be seen in this shape, and one who saw a wolf out of the corner of the eye might be led to believe it was only a dog. Moving fast, there was less of a chance of being noticed - even less of a chance of someone seeing him long enough to...well...

Cry wolf?

He hadn't expected to take this long. The mission had been simple enough - no contact, just finding an address or two. Boring reconnaissance. He'd been distracted, and now it was light, and he was being forced to skulk. The pavement was cold under his paws, and, for once, he found himself wishing for socks and shoes between his feet and the ground. That was another part of the reason he was in such a hurry now - coats and shoes and gloves. Those, and coffee. Clothes, and coffee, and not getting written up.

He pelted into the alley where he'd left his uniform folded on a doorstep - and came to an abrupt, skidding halt before he reached it. There was a man in the alley already.