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Conquest (IC)

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Thomas thoroughly enjoyed walking. That was probably one of the reasons why he refused to buy a car.

Freedom City really was a beautiful place at night. When you took the time to stop and think about it. The lights at night made the city look alive. Many people say that New York is the city that never sleeps. Thomas thought that had to be true with any city. There was always some night life that refused to obey the norms of society.

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It was a Thursday night. Thomas had gotten off work at Morley's and was on his way home. When he had left work, there was a decently sized crowd still at the bar. For 2 am, on a Thursday night, a good sized crowd meant at least 50 to 75 people packed into the same room.

Thomas did not hate parties. When he was in college, he frequented them quite often. But certain things change when you have a very instinctual wild animal living inside you. Wolf didn't like crowds, well, crowds that were not predominantly wolves for that matter. In crowds, there were far too many sounds and smells in one place. Even with his enhanced senses, it was impossible to pinpoint any one individual person, smell, or sound. This made Wolf incredibly uneasy, and it became nearly impossible to sit still. Instead of staying at Morley's he had decided to walk home.

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Because he did not own a car, Thomas ended up walking from place to place. No matter who you are, crossing Freedom City while intoxicated was dangerous. Just another advantage of not owning a car: Not having to recover it the morning after drinking.

Thomas was drunk. Not heavily drunk, or to the point that the alcohol in his system was in any way dangerous. But it was definitely affecting him. He tried to recall the number of drinks he had had while he attempted to balance on the curb and walk a straight line. He failed at both things and stumbled.

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Thomas dropped down from the curb briefly putting his feet in the street. Thomas quickly jumped back on to the sidewalk out of instinct. Once back safely on the side of the road, Thomas glanced around. He remembered then that it was early in the morning. There were no cars around, and no one to see him stumble except for a bum laying on a storm drain, passed out. Thomas felt rediculous. He flushed redder than his bar tan was already making him. He thought briefly about revising his previous thoughts on Freedom's night life.

Then it dawned on Thomas. He realized why there were so few people around, even at 2am. He realized where he was. The Fens.

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It wasn't that Thomas looked like a particularly vulnerable person. He was a well built 20-something Native American. Anywhere else in the city, most people would never think of messing with a guy like him, even while he was drunk. Especially while he was drunk. In the Fens, even he might be a target.

Thomas did have an advantage, however. He was a werewolf, and one of Freedom's Heroes. He might look innocuous, but surely, there were no low life's in this part of the city that could do him harm. But that didn't mean he could hurt them. Thomas would still have to be careful.

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Thomas had walked for quite a while now. He was deep in the middle of the Fens. The Fens itself had its own version of a night life. But it was the type of night life that watched you from the shadows. It was the type of night life you didn't want to know about.

Thomas passed yet another alley with a group of people huddled together wearing dark clothes. But something was off about this particular group. He smelled wolf.

"Thomas?" called a familliar voice from the shadows, "What are you doing here?" Thomas knew that voice. He groaned inwardly, and deep inside him wolf snapped its jaws.

"Steve," Thomas growled as the man in jeans sneakers, and a black button down emerged from the alley. Thomas hated Steve.

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Thomas was surprised. He was surprised to see Steve in the Fens. he was surprised to see him wearing anything but one of his preppy polo shirts. Thomas was not only surprised. He was suspicious.

Steve was saying a farewell to those in the alley. Great, thought Thomas, That means he's going to talk to me. Thomas began to walk away.

"Thomas, wait." Steve called and jogged up after him. "What are you doing here, man?" Suspicion didn't even begin to describe it, actually. Every time Thomas saw Steve, there was something else going on. Especially since the end of April when Thomas had stolen Steve's rank in the pack through a trial by combat. That was just a fight over a girl. Now it had turned into something so much more.

It was a surreal feeling, being a higher rank than someone he hated. Most of the time he couldn't even remember that he actually had some pull in the pack now. But tonight it was no problem, "Go away," Thomas told Steve.

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"Thomas, you're drunk." Steve shot back. "We need to get you home."

"That's where I'm headed." Thomas slurred. He usually went out of his way to speak slowly and clearly, but when he was drunk he couldn't be bothered, and contractions started to sneak their way into his speech patterns. "Why'd ya think I'm here?"

"Well I thought you lived in Southside. That's pretty far. I could call you a cab." Steve offered.

Why is he being so nice? Thomas wondered. Something's definitely up. Thomas decided to remove himself from the situation before it went badly. "Steve, I'll be fine. Go back to your friends, and leave me alone," Thomas laid a hand on Steve's shoulder. It was a friendly gesture, like a peace offering, "That's an order."

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