<div style="text-align: center"><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)"><span style="font-size: 26px"><span style="font-family: 'Allura', 'cursive'">Velaria Romanov</span></span></span></i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)"><span style="font-size: 26px"><span style="font-family: 'Allura', 'cursive'"> </span></span></span>​</div><br/>Velaria had taken a seat at the table, her toned legs crossed delicately and her black clutch purse was placed on the table before her, however as more and more pack members arrived, she felt her discomfort rising as well. While Velaria appeared to the eye to be a ripe 32 years of age, she was actually 132 and in her many years, 57 of them were spent as a rogue. Therefore, with the entrance of the pack members, she felt as if she were being suffocated sitting there at the table. Her alert eyes were so blue that they almost appeared silver in the moonlight and as Zephyr announced that the feast would begin, she found that her appetite had disappeared altogether. As she was about to reach for some of the succulent meat on the table, the black clutch purse she had been carrying began to vibrate, making the table's surface vibrate along with it. Her hand shot out with blinding speed, grasping the clutch before it made any more of a disturbance and she smoothly plucked her iPhone out of the bag, placing the bag in her lap. As she unlocked her phone to investigate who had text her and caused such a disturbance in her evening, she rolled her eyes at what she found.<br/><br/>Aria, can you come in to the bar? Mike called in sick and I need someone to cover the shift.<br/><br/>As she stared at the text from her human boss, Margaret, she fought the urge to groan out loud. As she cut her eyes to the table, scanning the pack members sitting there, she decided it would be best to call the woman, rather than respond with a text. She was old fashioned, after all, and she hated texting. She found that words and tones could be easily misread through text, so she preferred to verbally communicated with others. "Excuse me for a moment." Velaria said politely with her thick accent, to no one in particular. As she stood, she discarded her clutch purse on the table and then strode to the edge of the gathering area, at the treeline that surrounded them. Dialing Margaret's number, she placed her phone to her ear and waited. After three rings, Margaret picked up. She could hear the twang of country music in the background, a tale tale sign that Margaret was in the honky tonk bar she owned in the human town nearby. "Velaria, please tell me you can help me, darlin'!" The woman was older, in her 50's, but she'd owned the bar ever since her late husband had passed, leaving the burden to Margaret. Though Velaria was not fond of humans, she'd had a soft spot for the seasoned, fiery human since they'd met. "Margaret, I can't. I am at a.. family function of sorts. You know this, I do this once a week." she sighed into the phone and she could practically hear the smile in Margaret's voice as she spoke. "I know sugar, but Mike's sick and I can't bartend and run this damn place, too!" Margaret's tone was as sweet as the sweet tea the woman loved to consume and Velaria was silent for a long time before she sighed into the phone. "Give me an hour and a half. Let me spend some time here and then I'll come."<br/><br/>As she ended the phone call with Margaret, Velaria ran a hand through her thick chocolate hair and turned to face the treeline, gazing into the forest. She thought back to when she'd met Margaret and smiled softly. Velaria had been new to the area, having followed the draw she felt from the pack. Though she hadn't discovered the pack yet, she knew more of her kind were in the area and as she began her search for them, she'd needed a job to make money. She had little money left from the town she'd taken up residence in before and as she had stumbled across the human bar, The Twisted Sister, the 'Help Wanted' sign out front had caught Velaria's attention like the buzzing fluorescent signs outside that promoted the beer and whiskey they offered there. Though most humans were immediately fearful of Velaria, due to her cold nature and her hard eyes, Margaret had welcomed her with open arms and Velaria had worked there for the past seven months, having started working there four month's before she'd ever found the pack. As she stood at the edge of the gathering, reflecting, she sighed at the comfort her solitude offered her.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><div class="bbImageWrapper lazyload js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fdata.whicdn.com%2Fimages%2F29973546%2Foriginal.gif&amp;hash=eb348f512190e4ad6f6b62c4e188f1b8" title="original.gif">
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