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Werewolves (RP13.3) Many Decisions: Echoes

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Zander said nothing to the old gentleman's comment besides a polite nod and a curt chuckle under his breath.  He'd learned his lesson; knowing his luck, he was looking at Mrs. Buttermilk's long-lost lover. The last thing he needed was to get caught up in more drama. Shuddering inwardly, he moved to take his place by the cashier.

A familiar blue eye caught his attention by the window. He frowned and blinked, rubbing his eyes as if in disbelief.  An internal battle raged on how he ought to proceed next, only to hear Mrs. Buttermilk's approach. He made a half-hearted attempt to look at the height of retail prime, pressing his hair flat and straightening the collar, but it was a long-lost battle. In his distractions from the morning, some of his chores had lapsed and the little antique store was looking a little dustier than it ought.  Knowing he was in for some kind of verbal assault, he braced himself with a cheerful smile instead as he steeled himself for the worst of it.  Blue-eyes by the window was long forgotten.

Bianca wouldn’t make Toby hold the door forever. She stepped inside as Zander put on some... freakishly robotic act. She wondered if he was even breathing. The blondes brow was furrowed as she nearly stepped up to the counter, almost eager to scold him for the lack of greeting. That’s when she noticed the older woman coming down the stairs. All the men-except the olderly gentleman, seemed to stiffen. It was soon obvious why.

“She’s a werewolf,”  Bianca observed to herself. Was the older gentleman one, too? But she could notice no discernible scent on him.

If Zander was really terrified of this old lady, Bianca was going to do her part to try and ease the tension.

”Excuse me, sir.” She met his eyes evenly and sternly-as if to say, “you owe me one”, but let the look pass. “I need a birthday gift.. it’s for a woman, about... uh, thirty?” she had no idea. “She’s not really... into feminine things. Kind of unconventional. Do you have anything?”

Oh, but the old gentleman did stiffen. In fact, his laugh went cold the instant Mrs. Buttermilk appeared, and it seemed the dust in the air rapidly settled just as fast to the floor.

The fellow visibly jumped at the appearance of the old woman and snatched his flatcap right off his head. He looked like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he wrung his cap in his hands.

Bianca looked over her shoulder from Zander to the old fellow who made a movement in the corner of her eye - he looked positively frozen in place! Her blue eyes got wide and she looked between the three men for answers. Suddenly she wanted to become that mouse from earlier and crawl into that dusty old teapot.

It was nothing. She was just an older woman! Bianca'd seen horrors on Phantom Mountain, how could she even stack up? Still, the tension in the room was tangible... this was a different kind of fear. Like when Grandpa Chapman caught you climbing on the counters, or painting his car pink with markers..

Zander's eyes narrowed so precariously as he watched Bianca approach, the elderly gentleman stiffen, and Mrs. Buttermilk wobble down the stairs it was as if they were wobbling over the edge of a precipice.  Like a computer given too many inputs his face suddenly went flat, blinking only in response to Bianca's question before the next word was spoken by the older gentleman's.  And that one, above all else, made the metaphorical smoke rise from his ears.

Maybe he really was looking at Mrs. Buttermilk's long-lost lover.  Maybe there was a reason he'd never heard mention of a Mr. Buttermilk.  Maybe it had been a very well kept secret, a human lover in her time while she lead a pack, maybe --

But oh, best to stop the runaway train before it got away from him. Before he wound up, somehow, in the middle of a pained therapy session.  He blinked again and smiled that easy, friendly stranger smile to Bianca.

"Certainly, I'm sure we have something... how does she feel about old-school slingshots, we have some in the back over here if you'd be so inclined..." he made a little gesture implying his next motion, but there wasn't much invitation.  Still, for good measure he went to fetch the broom from the other end of the clerk counter, as if a consolation for his lacking duties from the morning as he moved to the far corner.

Granny paused at the foot of the stairs, bringing her cane down in front of her with a solid thump that rattled a few glass objects on the shelves. To Toby, it seemed the temperature in the room suddenly became frigid. The old woman's wrinkly lips pursed together tightly and ice seemed to form from her gaze.

This was Code Red. Someone was in for it... But who?
Was it Zander or Toby himself?

Granny wasn't looking at either of them. If fact, it almost seemed as though she didn't notice anyone else was in the shop except the elderly stranger. Did she know him? Judging by his reaction, which was nothing short of pure terror, he definitely knew her.

"I want to assume you're lost so I can excuse this unwelcome visit.." Granny began, "..But you're not stupid enough to be lost. You're only somehow stupid enough to show your face, not only in Reknab Bend, but in MY territory specifically!"

Toby felt his spirit tremble with each word. He wanted to recoil into the darkest corner of the shop and disappear, but he dare not move lest he draw attention to himself.

Bianca's eyes darted between the older woman and the man, but mostly she was focused on what the woman was saying. All of Kratos' training and words of motivation could not prepare her for an angry werewolf grandmother. Her own grandmother was not an angry werewolf grandmother, just a normal not werewolf not angry grandmother.

Anyway, if there was one thing she knew about older women, it was that they didn't like when another woman, especially some nosy youngster, got in on their business. She could already see the cane pointed in her face - "YOU just think you can stand there and listen to other peoples problems? Get out of my shop!" she would shout. Bianca mapped the exit. She could sneak behind an aisle, risk knocking something over, and out behind the older man, or just run directly between them... she weighed her options carefully. Maybe that's what happened to Zander. Maybe he heard something he shouldn't have and now he was stuck here in this shop. She looked to him; a young man once getting into all kinds of terrifying shenanigans of great proportion, and now as still as a nutcrucker and putting on a smile just as creepy. Nope.

With that final thought, Bianca took but a few long flying strides and bolted between the older man and woman, the wisp of a desperate "I'msorryexcuseme" trailing behind her. Every man for himself. Toby and Zander were as good as dead. Maybe her antiques held the souls of unruly trespassers and employees who weren't friendly enough. Everything was probably cursed.

"Nope," she was already a few yards from the door when she stopped, looking back. "Nope, nope, nope. There's other stores in town. Logan needs clothes, right? She has like, two things. Pants and a shirt. And that flannel. Clothes store. Gotta be something here. Thrift store, grocery store that sells clothes. Where is a mall when you need one?"

With that, Bianca began up the streets of Reknab Bend.

Just as the heat hit Granny's voice, Zander made one last plaintive plea to Bianca to 'just go along with it', but by that point she was already out the door.  Smart girl.  Unfortunately for him, he'd lost his excuse to flee the scene of the crime.  Shakily, he took his weapon in hand to the farthest corner of the shop and swept, as if it was all in a day's work.

Mathew looked like a wreck. His clothes and shoes were caked in mud, and he smelled like he hadn't seen a shower in weeks. 

He had gotten caught up in the storm the night prior which had done a number on him, but even before then his appearance looked a bit worse for wear. Now he just looked like he had barely survived an apocalypse. Or walked out of a movie set about an apocalypse. Either way, despite the difficulty of the night, his gratitude for having survived the ordeal had easily grown a smile on his face.

So there Matthew was, walking down the street looking like a homeless person with a worn backpack slung over his shoulder, just trying to find some new clothes and a bite to eat in a little place called Reknab Bend. 

He had noticed the crowd on main street but didn't spend much time observing the scene, instead taking in what kind of shops could be found there.

Bianca looked over her shoulder. Then around, across the street. Nobody was really around, save some homeless looking guy walking on the opposite side of the road. She took a ballcap out of her bag and put it on her head, pulling her hair through and wrapping it in a ponytail.

She quickened her pace a little. Then a little more. Her mind was twisting and turning, and her gut likewise. There was a noise, following her, engulfing her. She thought by leaving the camp, it would go away, but it was still there, as loud as ever and gnawing on her mind from the inside.

After everything that had happened, did she really see herself going back? To have another panic attack in front of everyone? She was supposed to be the den mother, but she was a nervous wreck. She thought she knew what she was getting into when she came there in the first place - was she dead wrong. She thought a little bit more. Toby was still distracted, probably. She looked behind her shoulder again, and then without thinking, dodged between two buildings, then out the back of them, and began towards the outskirts of Reknab Bend! The flight kicked in, and she wouldn't stop running-and when she got away from town, she'd change and run faster still.

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