Re: First floor: 2:15 a.m.
Did he have a name? Good question. He pushed himself up, sitting on his haunches. The dry wind out on the fire escape had mostly dried him off by now. He didn't feel the cold.
A name, a name. He thought for a long time, eyes rolling to the side, staring across the street. He tried to trace back to something familiar, concrete. There was his home, of course, that had smelled like him but...other. That had a name, though, and he held on to it, saying it before he could lose it again. "Shane." He still felt that wasn't quite right, that wolves didn't have names--they were just wolves.