WHO:Mercy the Mechanic and Clint the Idiot WHERE: Clint's Nest WHEN: Afternoon, October 8 WHAT: Mercy goes scouting for a place to change and winds up smack-dab in the middle of Clint's nest. WARNINGS: TBD STATUS: Ongoing
As fearless as she occasionally liked to think she was, Mercy Thompson wasn't foolhardy enough to go traipsing into the forest that surrounded Marrowood. No woods meant no way to change and run without being spotted, and as accepting as most people seemed to be of werewolves--well. Mercy had a bad feeling that it was much better for her to stay hidden.
Maybe it was nothing. Probably was nothing. Either way, Mercy wanted to be extra careful. There weren't any animals around to mask a coyote running around town. And in control or no, a wild animal was a wild animal.
So she had decided to get up high, see what she could see from up there. Maybe she'd get lucky and find a spot that was more or less secluded. Or that was the plan, anyway; get up, look around, spot a few places to check out on foot, and get the hell out of Dodge.
Except that now that she was up high, she was smelling something. Or, more appropriately, someone. And not like they'd had the same idea she had and passed on through. No, more like they spent a lot of time up here. Male, probably human. She took a step back, careful that she didn't get too close to any edge of the building, only to collide with something she was positive hadn't been there a minute ago.
Which meant she'd just run straight into whoever was spending his time up high.
She moved forward quickly, making a mental note to be way more careful--first the guy by the car, and now the guy who hung out on rooftops. Awesome. Mercy turned carefully to see one of what she thought were the copies. Maybe. Hard to tell from those little pictures, but wow, was that a distinctive nose.
"Um, hi," she said. "You must be, uh--" She gave his hands a quick glance. "Um, Clint, I'm guessing?"