<div class="floatleft">(http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y136/jackskellington89/seth-green-20040429-1623.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Seth<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Doghouse<br/><strong>Creature Type:</strong>Coyote, Natural<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Rake, RyAnn, Beth, Jesse, Jeremy, Any others<br/><br/>The wheels of the old rusted-out truck crunched on the loose gravel as Seth pulled into the back parking lot of the Doghouse. Early in the evening, but it looked like the clientele was already making itself at home. Seth finished slurping down the last of his grape soda, then crushed and tossed the empty paper cup into the passenger floorboard. A smile crossed his face as he glanced over at his afternoon's prizes on the seat beside him; it had been a pretty good day so far.<br/><br/>It would have been difficult for him to decide which part of his take he was most proud of. There was the small crate full of top-of-the-line BluRay Disc players he'd liberated from the backroom of the local Wal-Mart, which would bring in a good $2000 easy when he sold them to his fence Enrique. A wriggling sack containing an even half-dozen pissed off diamondback rattlers slid off the top of the crate and landed in the floorseat with a dull *THUD*, and Seth's grin widened when he thought of how happy the rest of the Pack would be when he let them loose in the old plantation house as part of his new pest control program.<br/><br/>But in the end, the most valuable prize was the one he'd fought the hardest to earn -- the 23' roll of Skeeball tickets he'd won at Petey Parrot's Pizzeria Parlor and Playhouse. His steely-eyed foe had been a worthy opponent, matching him shot for shot for seven games in a row. But at last came the inevitable, and little Susie's mother called her away from the game. Seth still felt the tremors of elation that had coursed through him as his adversary grudgingly conceded defeat with a roll of her eyes. He felt as though he'd made himself a formidable enemy, but that was alright. Whenever the little brat wanted a rematch, he'd be waiting. Oh yes, he would be waiting.<br/><br/>Seth stepped out of the truck and sauntered in through the rear entrance, one ear open as always for the approaching stomp of Zee's boots. He couldn't remember if he'd done anything to piss off the Queen Bitch lately, but seeing as she generally took a preemptive ass-stomping policy where Seth was concerned, he'd long ago adopted the mantra of 'early detection means better protection'. She didn't seem to be around this evening, although like everything else in life, that could change real quick. Seth stopped just before entering the bar, cracked the door open and took a good hard whiff of the air to give himself an idea of what had been going on in his absence.<br/><br/><em>--beer, piss, hormones, sex (probably Rake), paper and ink (definitely Beth), Ry and JB, and. . .gas, oil, dust and paper, all coming from--</em><br/><br/><em>'Huh, whaddya know. A new Were,'</em>Seth thought absently as he stepped through into the bar, largely unnoticed by the other patrons. One of the humans at the counter seemed particularly focused on RyAnn's performance by the pool tables, and Seth elected to rescue the man's poor beer from his neglect as he sidled by. He took up a position toward the end of the counter, giving himself a clear view of the room and a decent listening spot to pick out the surrounding conversations. Beth was chatting with some hot little number not too far away about a possible job position, while Rake and the new Were chick were talking about. . .nothing in particular, apparently.<br/><br/>Seth was in the middle of draining the bottle in his hand when Hell lifted a glass and announced its forthcoming intentions to break loose. A young man burst through the front door with a small, limp figure in his arms -- oh, fuck, Jesse! He was on his feet in an instant as Rake raced toward their fallen Packmate, his quickly darkening eyes locking on the man who held her. Seth had little doubt that Rake's thoughts were running parallel to his own, that the newcomer's announcement just sent their risk of exposure through the damn roof. He felt an urge to throw caution to the wayside, to start beating the human witnesses unconscious, to tear the samaritan to shreds for whatever part he might have played in Jesse's condition, but thankfully Rake's calming vibes were doing their job. Adrenaline was still pumping through him like a firehose, but Seth managed to curtail his impulses and concentrate on the situation at hand.<br/><br/>Obviously Rake seemed to have the matter under control, no doubt with a good deal of help from RyAnn; there probably wouldn't be anything Seth could do to help the pup himself. Not directly, anyway. He turned back to the bar and took a deep breath, closing his eyes to gather his focus. He'd never known how he did it, but Seth had always had a knack for influencing what people thought they were looking at. After a few moments of deceptively easy breathing Seth turned back around and listened to the muted chatter going on around him, simultaneously gratified and infuriated at the passing mentions of the tall fellow who'd just stormed in carrying an injured dog and joking about whether to call an ambulance or a vet.<br/><br/>Seth slid off the stool and walked casually but quickly outside to get a better idea of the circumstances. Thanks to the earlier shock and anxiety, he hadn't gotten anything close to a scent off of the samaritan, but that was going to change. Whoever this guy was, and however he'd come to be involved, Seth wanted to know him<em>real</em>well. He followed behind at a fast clip, staying out of the way as Rake played out a charade of heading for a hospital. He was surprised to detect a hint of Wolfen pheromones from the younger man, but that meant next to nothing to Seth. Right now, the only thing he gave a damn about was seeing to their 'little sister'. . .and possibly dealing with Mr. Citizenship, if Rake decided it needed doing.