<div class="floatleft">(http://www.buzzfocus.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/emmastone-gwen-stacy.jpg)</div><br/><br/><br/><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Nico Frans<br/><strong>Pack Position:</strong>Newcommer, Engineer<br/><strong>Species:</strong>Werewolf (Viral)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Doghouse<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Open<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Yep, it sure looked like Texas, she thought as she passed yet another farmhouse with the horned archway that signaled an entrance to its property.<br/><br/>Nico wasn't all that familiar with the state, having grown up in a place that was a little more metropolitan and a lot less.. dusty.  She drove an old faded 1970s VW minibus, the paint was turquoise and there were all kinds of stickers in the rear windows, giving off the appearance that it had been places and seen a few owners. This heap of metal was considered her home when she was on the road, and it was beginning to feel like a permanent home, now that she'd been touring America for the past couple monthes. Most of the time she liked it better this way, her van being the only friend she needed to rely on. Sometimes things got a little<em>hairy</em>, and so Nico preferred to be alone, or with others who had a safe place to stay. It was easier this way, staying out of reach from the Kennels and the Hunters.<br/><br/>Her nose crinkled involuntarily as she rounded another bend in the road. She was getting close, it amazed her still that she could sense them before actually seeing them. Nico reached to turn off the radio, glancing down at the journal she had opened on her lap. The last destination was circled in red pen, a sort of declaration that it was the last stop on the list. The name<strong>Rake</strong>was also scribbled in the next margin, with a nice big blank spot for her notes to be taken. Her hair bristled as the Doghouse came into view, these kinds of meetings never seemed to get easier, despite the amount of visits she's made to other 'shelters' along the underground railway. The one thing that she had perfected, however, was her greeting.<br/><br/>Nico parked her unit alongside the many motorbikes, snickering at the contrast her vehicle made against the others. At least she'd be walking in with a smile. Her moleskin journal was tucked under one arm as she pushed passed the door, into the bar.  She wore a black halter top with a pair of black spandex leggings that stopped mid-calf. Her wrist was decked with tons of gold bangles, and around her neck was a matching gold chain with a claw-like pendant pointing toward her modest cleavage. Her gaze swept over the bar and its inhabitants, her throat tightening as her sense of smell was asaulted by the combination of at least 5 different Wolves, all of which felt like they had been here for quite some time. Another part of her whispered thanks for having worn an outfit that wasn't too stifling. The place was warm, and it was crowded; it would take a lot more to keep her inner commotion in check here than any where else.<br/><br/><em>"Please...let's make this last stop a nice one. Just here to help.. "</em>She thought as she slowly meandered her way toward the bar, which she figured would be her best bet. Ry was the first to really grab her attention, and her nostrils flared as she marked her strong feminine scent, designating it with her face. Clearly, this pack was of a more relaxed<br/>persuasion if they played pool with the locals. Nico let her guard down slightly.