"the weapon I have will do Just fine thank you," Darkic paused taking a deep drink "How did you know I was were-wolf anyways?" He asked his hand gripping the hilt of his bone like sword. The one object of his fathers which he had been willing to keep. He sighed heavily, and sat there taking another drink. It had been months since he’d last had a long term paying customer for protection. He’d been living of the small town protection contracts that only lasted a night maybe two, and they didn’t pay well. He placed the empty drink down on the table, while discreetly drawing soul ledge slightly, hoping the weapons un-natural humming would be drowned out by the sound in the tavern. When had he last spoke to someone who wasn’t a client, he couldn’t remember at all. He didn’t trust this women, she may be part animal like himself, but it didn’t matter to him. His own kind hated him so why wouldn’t she? Nothing felt right to him anymore. He cocked his head being carful not to let his hood drop he was ashamed of what he was from his fathers side, it was what saw his pack turn on him. Darkic tried to gadge the women figure out what she wanted from him.