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</div>Name: </b>Noah Johan Montgomery<br/><b>Date/Time: </b>Day 1/Early Morning<br/><b>Location:</b>Standing on the porch of his house<br/><b>Wearing: </b>Jeans, tan work boots, dark olive-green button-down shirt, leather bomber jacket with Merino sheepskin collar<br/><b>Content: </b>Getting ready for work and mentally going through his tasks for the day<br/><b>Tagging:</b>@Anasi @Mismonkey<br/><br/>As Noah approached the door he felt the presence of another wolf. He stepped aside, placing him adjacent to a table that was away from the windows, in the pretense of letting a couple pass by. Glancing down, he saw a young brunette smiling at the computer as if she was engaged in what was going on. He noticed the faint whine of a voice coming from beneath her brunette tresses and realized she was listening to someone speaking. A class, perhaps?<br/><br/>Then he looked up and watched as a young, dark-haired man strode into the shop, looking quite confident and pleased with himself. Noah recognized the Alpha's next in line, Eric. That was good – Noah had worried that the call to hunt would bring in outsiders looking to expand their pack. Too often out-of-towners came in, wreaked havoc, and then left the locals to pick up the pieces once they were gone. It made Noah's job of guarding the perimeter of his pack's territory that much more difficult to do.<br/><br/>Now that he had confirmation there was nothing to be wary of, Noah started once again for the door. Giving the woman in her virtual class a smile of acknowledgement, he wove through the small crowd and pressed out into the open morning air.<br/><br/>The drive to work was pleasant. The tourist season was just beginning to ramp up, but the streets were not as crowded as they would be once it was in full bloom. The lumberyard he worked at doubled as the town's answer to Home Depot or Lowe's – a full-service store that carried everything from building materials to home décor. Plumbing, electrical needs, appliances, lawn mowers and paint – almost everything a person needed to spiff up their home was sold there. It was helpful to Noah since he was still renovating his house, a narrow cottage in town that boasted six rooms. It was meant to eventually be a place where those in the pack could stay if they needed to, a boarding house of sorts. He figured he would make it a Bed and Breakfast eventually to help hide its true purpose, and once that was done, he could think about getting a place of his own on the fringes of town instead of smack in the middle.<br/><br/>At the lumber yard he had just set down the coffee and bagels on the snack table when his supervisor ambled up to him.<br/><br/>"Noah! My man," the older man was half belly, half legs. He reminded Noah of<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fstatic.wikia.nocookie.net%2Fdespicableme%2Fimages%2Fb%2Fba%2FGru.jpg%2Frevision%2Flatest%2Fscale-to-width-down%2F1200%3Fcb%3D20130711023954&amp;hash=78b27755bd74037f7901ce5ef4b7a2b9" href="https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/despicableme/images/b/ba/Gru.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/1200?cb=20130711023954" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Gru from <i>The Minions</i></a><i>, </i>down to his large nose and bald pallet. That was, if Gru wore beige overalls and brown work boots. "Sarah in the garden called in sick today. I need to you work her section," he announced.<br/><br/>"The garden?" Noah pulled a face. Today was delivery day; he wanted to haul wood and work up a sweat, not water plants and help senior citizens figure out what shrub would look best next to their peonies. "Ah, Boss. Can't someone from inside work the garden?"<br/><br/>"Hey, hey, hey," Paul smacked a hand on Noah's shoulder as if they were old friends. "We old guys have to look out for each other. Let the young bucks unload the wood and see this as a gift. You don't want to throw out your back or something," he said, removing his hand and reaching for a bagel. "Aw…no donuts? It thought you were going to start bringing some donuts on delivery day." The disappointment in his voice was palpable.<br/><br/>Noah didn't appreciate being lumped in with the 'old guys,' though he was older than most in the lumber yard. He was pushing forty; in a few more years he'd be the male equivalent of an old maid.<br/><br/>"Fine. Fine," he acquiesced. "I'll man the garden section." Noah sighed, pulled a coffee from the drink carrier and made his way to<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.saturdayeveningpost.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2Fsatevepost%2Fintext7_Photo-by-Arina-P.-Habich-500-500x333.jpg&amp;hash=f3a8d5a73e85ecc96e3595d8229e35a9" href="https://www.saturdayeveningpost.com/wp-content/uploads/satevepost/intext7_Photo-by-Arina-P.-Habich-500-500x333.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">the roofed outdoor garden of the store</a>. Maybe today would be quiet, and he could focus on his meeting with the SAR team at lunch.