Wes was walking through the snowy street, looking for a friend. Or a bar. Whichever came first.
The snow reminded him, strangely enough, of England. Not that it snowed that much there, it was more of a rain and fog kind of winter. But the cold, he had kind of missed that while in California. Maybe it was crazy, but there it was.
He wandered on, mind distracted by old memories (which was becoming a more a frequent past-time), when a streak of black went by. He was remarkably unsurprised when the cat spoke. He was a little too familiar with magic to be taken aback by much. At least it wasn't a demon.
"I'm not sure this is really anyone's home, but we do what we can. Where are you from, little guy?"
Wes crouched down in the snow to get a better look.