Wolf (wolf_atthedoor) wrote in musings, @ 2010-10-13 07:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | wolf |
[Wolf has been minding his leporine charge like the world's most docile Labrador. He waits at the door when Bunny leaves for work, always with something small in hand: a cup of cinnamon-laden coffee, a sugar-crusted doughnut, a flower he noted on his walk over from Hamartia. On anyone else there'd be an impression of wooing, but not Wolf; he doesn't want any tender blonde morsel, oh no. His smile is crooked, harmless because around Bunny and Allyson, Wolf chants over and over to put the beast behind the door, be a man, be a man, be-a-man.
During the between hours, when little Miss Lucine's at work, in bed, out with her friends and thus comparatively safe, he hunts. Up and down Seattle's streets, awash in fog and sea air and the scent-sound-taste of too many people in too small a space, Wolf looks for what he wants. When he finds the tea shop, it takes his breath away. Dor's not there, of course, but her fingerprints are all over the place. Wolf fights back the urge to run inside, to lay his hands where hers have been, to suck in the scent of forbidden things long lost.
He opts instead to skulk about for hours upon hours, relatively inconspicuous across the street yet oh so loathe to leave when it's time to circle back around for Bunny. He'll be back in a few hours. Soon, Wolf tells himself. Soon, soon.]
Sure, there's monsters and angels and demons afoot, but ain't it just a beautiful day in the neighborhood?