Ptricia grinned as the white wolf picked up the thread of the song. Then he stops for his question.<br/><br/>"Just when we had a rhythm going... You mean because the people who live here think they should be moved out and have the place undergo urban redevelopment by saturation bombing, while the rest of the city just thinks the place should undergo urban redevelopment by saturation bombing full stop. No, I like it here, it has charm, character, low rents, and violent criminals... or as I like to call them, smorgasbord!" She licked her lips.<br/><br/>As Reizu petted her, she glanced over her wing and growled. "I'm not a dog! Pat me again and we'll see if you have the power to regrow limbs... A good scritching however is different, but that can wait. And yeah, we are almost there."<br/><br/><blockquote><div><cite>Reizu wrote:</cite>Reizu looked up and noticed Chris's paleness. "Are you OK? Another girlfriend?"</div></blockquote><br/><br/>Ptricia looks back again. "Oh great! Another one? Much more of this and I'm going to have to buy a bigger size of t-shirt!"<br/><br/>The trio glide down to land on the slightly sloped tile roof of a five story brick warehouse in the worst part of the docks, part of a street that was probably built sometime last century. A similar warehouse across the streeet and down a bit is a burnt out shell, and most of the others are in various stages of dereliction, or boarded up with crudely built planking or in a few cases, rusty wire grids.<br/><br/>Someone had built a sturdy wooden platform where you landed, which is as well, you're not certain those tiles could take Ptricia's weight. It has to be the only bit on new construction on the entire blaock. Black empty windows are like hoplessly staring eyes, looking down on a litter strewn street, lit indifferently by a few, heavily caged street lights high on walls. The lamp posts are smashed, or in a few cases missing.<br/><br/>"See? Romantic low light levels, and the vintage buildings give it a certain old worlde charm. Plenty of parking..." She indicates the empty roadway, where the only visible vehicle is a burnt out jalopy of indeterminate make. "Even performance art..." She points to where a group of overturned or just mangled plastic posts support tatters of police crime scene tape, which had protected an ominous pair of white human outlines roughly painted on the sidewalk.<br/><br/>"Yeah, they just don't make 'em like this any more." She motions you off her back, and shifts to human form, leading you to a metal ladder that leads down to a fire escape. The bottom two stories of the metal framework are missing. By the top platform is a double door, leading into the interior. It's rather securely padlocked with a chain that was clearly designed by someone who usually made drawbridges.<br/><br/>Ptricia snapped her fingers and pulled out her phone. "Gotta change that delivery address." She drew the rune and spoke in a low tone into the phone. "And I'll have some formshift and reform potions, a half dozen each. I knew I'd forgotten something. 'Kay, thanks, bye!"