((OOC: Sorry it's such a wall of text ^^' my intros are always long, it helps me get into teh headspace of my characters! It's a thing I do, don't worry about matching me, they'll be a hella lot shorter as we go on!))<br/><br/>Now there are two kinds of little café in the world.<br/><br/>In the first kind a nice girl, fresh from rehab/juvie, in a denim miniskirt and a grubby apron brings you coffee that tastes like it’s been wrung from a car mechanics rag, in a mug with enough stains that it could stunt double for a pirate map and ‘WORLDS BEST LOVER’ written on it. She brings you a bacon ‘’buttie’’  that looks like a toasted skin graft between two slices of bread, but tastes like it was carved by greasy angels. In these places, if you let your gaze wander out of the steamed up windows, you see views of wild, herding lippy youths sweeping majestically across people’s front yards to dump a couch just far enough that it ceases to be their problem anymore…<br/>We call these lard factories ‘Greasy spoons’.<br/><br/>In the<span style="font-style: italic">second</span>type of café, the nice conservative girl, fresh from private college brings you a frothy coffee in a sundae glass with a name that reads like a Bible passage, only backwards. Frathe-latte-capiato-dominus-with an extra shot or something! Instead of breakfast you’re served brunch which consists of fish and melon that costs as much as a whole fucking skin graft and looking out of the window you can count six other coffee shops screaming out from between the hulking great throngs of fashion department stores.<br/><br/>Cindies was the first kind.<br/><br/>Guys kinda place. Every time he travelled that long dirt trail out of, literally, his neck of the woods and came to town he’d make an obligatory drop in on Cindies.<br/>Or more precisely, a waitress he’d been sweet on since his accidental debut in quirky little grease trap.<br/><br/>He stood, leaned on the bar with one elbow, smirking with all the glistening-fanged charm of a fairy tale wolf. For a man of his stature, he had to stoop a little, but he simply flew with it, dangling one non-chalant hand off the edge, relaxing naturally into it, effortlessly in his element and chatting up the young thing whilst he was there.<br/><br/>But that was a job requirement for him, wasn’t it?<br/><br/>As the alpha of a pack every other shifter would instinctively judge his peoples strength at a glance using<span style="font-style: italic">him</span>as their basis. Something as small as a bead of sweat on his brow could infer weakness, make his people look like targets and endangering them. His confidence could<span style="font-style: italic">never</span>be switched off, an easy smile, a slick tongue and an ability to own the room the minute he walked in had saved his skin on many an occasion.<br/>But it hadn’t, however, saved his teeth.<br/><br/>“MMM you<span style="font-style: italic">bet</span>it hurt!” somewhere behind his crooked grin a few shiny, new, gold-capped teeth glinted wickedly, “They’ve got a needle as long as your finger and they slide it up your gums between your teeth!” Guy playfully illustrated it with a few crude gestures, watching the poor girl pale visibly.<br/><br/>“SHUT uuup!” she giggled trying fruitlessly to sound scolding, giving the rogue a playful clip upside the back of his head with a rolled menu, “You<span style="font-style: italic">always</span>lie to me! Last time you told me an egg was a vegetable! I<span style="font-style: italic">knew</span>it was bullshit! I KNEW it!”<br/><br/>“But you were convinced?” Guys eyes narrowed a touch curiously, still friendly, but even<span style="font-style: italic">he</span>had his doubts that she’d really bought it, half amazed at his own powers of persuasion…<br/>Not that Sylvie was a challenge; last year she’d been accidentally convinced into a cult, they’d convinced her that they were a charitable relief organization or something and she’d been living in a communal home with them for three months before she realized that it<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>actually a cult, despite her daddy’s subtle ‘don’t-drink-the-cool-aid’ warnings.<br/><br/>“Yeah!” she huffed, folding her arms, blushing furiously, “I told everyone and they told me it was a fruit! All the guys here call me Egg plant now! Thanks for that!” and then added adamantly “I KNEW it was a fruit!”<br/><br/>It was too much! Guy roared with laughter and had to grip the bench to stop him doubling over on himself.<br/><br/>“Shut up! It’s NOT funny!!” she whined, shuffling reluctantly back over to the steam machine, setting up another coffee she was meant to do five minutes ago. The cups clattered as she slammed them in place, “For the record you’re still a liar! I bet they aren’t even REAL teeth!”<br/><br/>Wiping his eyes on the back of one sleeve he perched his ass on the edge of counter, straightening himself and just generally gathering his senses, “Stop! You’re killing me!” still grinning he glanced back over his shoulder and watched her work from the corner of his eye.<br/><br/>She was right of course, they weren’t. These weren’t just gold caps. He’d lost his originals in a bare knuckle fight two weeks ago, he wanted to leave them longer and avoid coming to town to get them seen to (trust him, there’s a surprising lack of dentists amongst shape shifters!), but going without one canine and one incisor looked fucking ridiculous and made taking down kill fucking difficult.<br/><br/>“What happened to that drink anyway?” he purred after a moments comfortable silence. She looked up from her work, raising one eyebrow and then shaking her head with a little smile, getting her nose back to the grindstone.<br/><br/>“someone would think you’re<span style="font-style: italic">looking</span>to get fired… If I whisk you away it<span style="font-style: italic">wont</span>be romantic…” he warned with a smirk, only half kidding.<br/><br/>Somewhere the bell of the door went.<br/><br/>This wasn’t unusual and normally the wolf shifter zoned it out completely like every other customer, but today something smelled. Not just something was different, but a scent that curled into the room snagged his attention.<br/>In a heartbeat his mind reverted back to animal mode. Every exit, every window, every obstacle in the room was mapped, even if it didn’t show on his casual surface, he was aware of everyone there, of their scents and whereabouts. More importantly it allowed him to process the musk.<br/><br/>Amongst all the nostril burning stenches of civilisation, even through the pollution, the fast food and the combined body odours of a thousand people per square mile, he could make it out. It wasn’t easy, but at such a short distance it was obvious.<br/>Wolven.<br/>A shifter.<br/><br/>The pretty waitress was background noise now, he knew she was chatting to him still, but he waved her off with one tattooed hand and coolly observed the stranger encroaching on his turf, studying him with all the half-arsed interest of a bored housecat. Waitress grumbled to herself, but he ignored her, she had a job to do anyhow.<br/><br/>He was… he was a dainty thing, hardly what you could call threatening, the pup that walked in. A drifter maybe, judging by the pack on his back or the due-a-cut hair, fearful alright, you could smell the anxiety rising from his skin…<br/><br/>Guy did as he always did; made a snap judgement.<br/><br/>Fishing through his pockets he found a small wad of cash which he slid across the bar, “Sylvie, the kid who just walked in…put whatever he orders on my tab,”<br/><br/>“Were you even listening to a word I said!?” she rolled her eyes, “Jesus Guy! I see you twice a year, TWICE and you can’t even pay a BIT of attention!”<br/><br/>“No, listen,” he said beneath his breath, turning on his heel and locking gazes with her as though he was about to tell her an important secret. Instantly, a sucker for stories, she was enraptured, “What?” she snapped.<br/><br/>“That guy there, he’s an old friend of mine, we shared a dorm in college,”<br/><br/>Another lie.<br/>Shifter don’t do college. At least not traditionally and Guy had been given a thorough, pedigree, blood soaked shifter upbringing. Their idea of initiation involved a white hot branding poker rather than paddles.<br/><br/>“I took conservation sciences, he was a drama kid, anyway he does this thing where he never leaves the role of his upcoming character, I can’t say hello or I’ll break his stride, but put his tab on me. He’s in character so he’ll say he won’t know me, but secretly he’ll appreciate it. I wanna surprise him.. he,” the fire behind his amber eyes settled to embers, “he helped me through a tough time,” he dropped his gaze and swallowed heavily, seemingly unable to meet her eyes. Guy KNEW what he was, he played the emotionally crippled tough guy well when he needed to.<br/><br/>The waitress’ expression dropped, “Oh my god… okay… an actor you say?” she gave the slinky ass traveller another look over, trying to be sneaky about it but failing miserably.<br/><br/>“Yes,” Guy snapped curtly, he didn’t like her expression much. He knew EXACTLY what she was thinking because he’d just done the exact same thing. She was sizing him up as a potential mate… or at least whatever the humans called it to justify it… “Just put him on my tab,”<br/><br/>After he’d gotten her word he took his coffee and left, sparing the boy one last glance, if they made eye contact he MEANT for the kid to know what he was and that he’d chosen to let the matter rest.<br/><br/>The air was bitter as he crossed the parking lot so he sparked up a smoke.<br/><br/>Suddenly it clicked.<br/><br/>A week or so ago one of the clan had commented that she’d stumbled across a new wolfs scent on their territory, it had been a mild concern, occasionally other packs would shift and momentarily cross their path, so only a small, fruitless search had been raked across the land. This MUST have been him… what other wilderness was there around here that warranted such a hefty backpack?<br/><br/>Guy took one last smoky lungful and crushed the dimp under his boot, grinding it into the gravel.<br/><br/>Finding a good, hidden wall to lean against he waited for the wandering shifter to leave. He’d catch him on the way out….