Re: [Lou & Atticus: wolfing]
Lou didn't care who looked at her naked. Naked had stopped being strictly private after she got bit. Couldn't do anything about it after that but she could remember caring plenty. Not about staying clothed, she hadn't been a prude long as she could remember but Lou liked making decisions about stripping off. Piss and vinegar didn't make being naked private again and so when Lou changed she did so without self-consciousness. Her body, she knew what it looked like. But she understood not wanting to be seen.
She looked at the wolf and felt along the instinct that tugged pack to pack. She wasn't into physics, she wasn't into metaphysics, Lou didn't know how it worked but it felt like her gut, and she'd had it long enough she trusted it. Gut-instinct and pack didn't call out that this wolf was hers. Lou had followed the one that had disappeared after a body hit the morgue and the descriptor didn't match; gray and silver wasn't the stray that had brought down a man and Lou's scent was relaxed, it didn't turn stringent.
She stood. Didn't take long, and she didn't dust her hands on the side of her jeans so leaf-mulch clung to palms. Stood, Lou was a tall woman and raw-boned. She stood with her weight balanced and her feet astance and the air of confidence that made her alpha when she wasn't wearing fur and teeth. She didn't need to flash teeth, she stood because she wasn't subordinate but she didn't have to move. Alpha was alpha and the old gray wolf wasn't a challenge, as far as Lou could see it and challenge was the only reason to bristle. Scent and posture probably said more about that confidence than she needed to.
"Moon isn't out," she said now. "You can come back." Shrugged, under leather.