Liam dropped his backpack on the bench in entry hall. Kicking off his shoes, he searched through the mail on the entry room table. Nope, nothing for him. He padded to the kitchen in his sock-feet. He pulled out a thing of hot pockets and popped them into the microwave. He grabbed a soda out of the fridge while he waited. When it was done, he took his food to the living room and plopped on the couch. He was laughing his way through the end of a "scary" werewolf movie when Brian got home.<br/><br/>Brian did pretty much the same thing Liam did. That entry way was just a dump site. He also padded through the kitchen to the living room, only he appeared with a beer. He laughed lightly when he saw what Liam was watching.<br/><br/>"Yep.'Night of the Beast'. Classic hilarity."<br/><br/>"But Brian," Liam said seriously, " you don't understand. 'Its a werewolf!'. Come on, man."<br/><br/>Brian nearly snorted his beer. The werewolf phrase was done in Liam's best voice of a Southern Bell. The blonde in this movie had just horrible acting. Liam hit mute on the TV when the credits started rolling. He threw his feet up onto the couch and looked up at Brian.<br/><br/>"Going out again tonight?"<br/><br/>Brian nodded as he took a drink of his beer. He walked back into the kitchen and dropped the empty can into the recycle bin.<br/><br/>"I'm going to go take a shower and then take off. Don't wait up."<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">###</div><br/><br/>Brian pulled his jacket tighter. Not that he was cold, though it was freezing outside. More that he was just self-conscious. His breath came out in puffs of steam. He stopped at the corner and looked both ways. He darted across the street to the small, out-of-the-way pub at the edge of town. It made sense for it to be a werewolf hang-out. It was backed up against the national forest after all. One could easily slip in and out of them in wolf form and not be seen. He was applauding himself for finding it. He had no idea that he could regret it by the end of the night.<br/><br/>Brian entered the pub. It was a quaint, local place with feel of being in a log cabin. Suddenly, the name "Cal's Cabin" made sense. There were knick-knacks all over the walls. It was like it was owned by an eccentric, sentimental country boy. There were neon signs advertising available beers, as well as being used for lights. In fact, there were only two dim lights in the whole place besides those. One over the bar so that the bar tender could see and one over the door. There were very few clients here and all obviously regulars. The whole room turned to look at him. He suddenly knew why one of the few lights was above the door. He felt like he was under a spotlight. The usual bar smells of smoke and alcohol were present but the overpowering smell of wolf is what grabbed Brian's attention. He approached the bar as confidently as he could without looking like he was hear to challenge anyone. Being a lone wolf was fucking scary at times like this. The bar tender eyes him skeptically.<br/><br/>"I'll have a Corona, please?" Brian smiled briefly.<br/><br/>The bar tender eyed him for a few more seconds before pulling a bottle from the fridge behind him and popping it. Brian sat down on a stool and took his first drink. Liquid courage, man. Liquid courage.