Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

Fenrir (thebrotherwolf) wrote in themoderngods,

He wasn't a god. That was the stranger thing and Bast could probably feel that almost immediately. While Fenrir was an immortal; he was no god of the Norse. He was a monster. And right now, that monster was staring at the source of the strange scent in the nearly empty car. His eyes were dark chocolate and they fixated on the woman in the corner seat and he did as any canine would do in the situation - he tried to hold her gaze. Stare her down as he would anyone else with any bit of power and refuse to look away unless she proved herself more dominant or looked away herself.

If Bast's hackles were up, there was no denying that Fenrir was already rising to his feet. He usually liked to be left alone but the power he scented for her demanded an investigation. Fenrir wanted to know even if Eric did not. Eric wanted to go home.

Even with the swaying of the train car, he made surprisingly quick time to her, standing - or looming - over her spot if she didn't move. "What are you?"