The air is crisp and cool and Nicholai loves how it feels through his dampened hair. It is the kind of weather that puts him in a good mood and whether or not that is a bad thing for HUNK is left to be determined. A good mood for Nicholai usually means the jackal side to him won't show. But, then again, this is a training session with HUNK and it's been over six years.
Ginovaef's heels pound heavy as he slithers into the train center. Smoke trails him; this is the third cigarette since five this morning and he stinks of the smell. But, oddly enough, under the thick tinge of smoke is a scent similar to cologne. It's thick and it isn't his smell. It belongs to a man long dead.
The cigarette is extinguished not too soon after Nicholai's arrival. The ashtray for the day is the bottle of Nick's boot - the stub is tossed carelessly on the floor afterwards as Nicholai cracks his neck back and fourth.