Noemie trying to help.

ℭ𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔢: A tale of Eden. A voice from Nod. The beginning of unlife and undying. Phrases engraved into cuneiform tablets that threaten to crumble at mere presence. Everything used to be there and taught, but forgotten and lost in the raw brutality of his kins treachery. Time was nigh - then again - time was endless. The greed;the animal inside rose in need to feast. Where his eternal quest takes him, he shall know no bounds. Living in exile, even amongst his kin, the fisher king's word did not lose its guise of deceit. Graciously he spoke to enthrall his treat. Was the sight of his dried-blood brown hues enough to lure them in and ignore the naked fear that sprang within their defenseless bodies? They sat with him at the Cafe du Monde, realizing that this was not their will, but not with whom they assembled. The burning desire for knowledge outweighed their fright, and yet the weight of his presence constricted their throats; try as they might, they could not speak. They knew what to ask, they knew what they wanted, but no sounds were made. It was not their time to speak. When his murderous hands took the glass in front, so did they. When he brought the wine-sotted blood to his dried tiers, so did they. The Tyrant stared into silver-grey eyes. The woman wearing Ventrue's scepter-sigil tattooed on her neck. A beast I am, lest a beast I become:::: I, first-born, I, with sharp things; Planted the dark seeds. Wet them in earth. Tended them, watched them grow. And he, second-born, tended the animals. Aided their bloody births. Fed them. Watched them grow. The large male with sun-kissed skin moved. The chair grinding backward, his weight rising to a stand. He eyed her once more, huffed out displeased and turned away. She followed. And when he walked through the crowded night? She followed. She knew this was her end. She didn't want to end. I loved him, my brother. He was the brightest. The sweetest. The strongest. He was the first part of all my joy. How long have they moved in silence? How did they reach this insignificant chapel? It echoed within when the gates were opened. Hallow Ground. Corrupted by touch, to allow her entrance and enter, she did. Did the angels bleed? Did the whispers of madness reach her here and make her realize her faults? Was this her punishment? Righteousness? Then one day our Father' said to us. To Him Above' you must make a sacrifice - a gift of the first part of all that you have. She walked past the pews, and the door fell closed behind him. It was then that she noticed they were not alone. Seated upon the pews, there were more. And she followed. She, too, would sit and listen to his mind. And I, first-born, I gathered the tender shoots. The brightest fruits. The sweetest grass. He, too, walked past the pews and approached the altar dais. And he, second-born, my brother, slaughtered the youngest, the strongest and the sweetest of his animals. On the altar of our Father we laid our sacrifices and lit fire under them and watched the smoke carry them up to the One Above. He stepped around the dais and watched the assemble. Witches, Wolves, Kindred and more. A dozen representatives, one of each. The sacrifice of my brother smelled sweet to the One Above and he was blessed. I was struck from beyond by a harsh word and a curse for my sacrifice was unworthy. I looked at my brothers sacrifice, still smoking the flesh, the blood. I cried. I held my eyes. I prayed in the night and day. His fingers laid calm atop the dais and his eyes focused on the gaze. Winds, thunders. The clouds above began to roil and coil; to strike anvils against heaven's entrance and cause Angels to glare in spite. Malicious was the essence of those within. And when Father said the time for Sacrifice has come again, and my brother led his youngest, his sweetest and most beloved to the sacrificial fire. I did not bring my youngest, my sweetest, for I knew the One Above would not want them. And my brother, oh beloved Abel, said to me 'Caine, you did not bring a sacrifice. A gift of the first part of joy, to burn on the altar of the One Above.' I cried tears of love as I, with sharp things, sacrificed that which was the first part of my joy, my brother. And the Blood of Abel covered the altar and smelled sweet as it burned. And with that, the Dozen figures were lit alight in an instant. Screeching, growling and screaming as the scent of their rotten flesh filled the chapel and corrupted this hallowed ground furthermore. They held onto the pews, they wanted to stand and run, but felt bound to the position they currently where in. And as the dark smoke filled the chapel, Caine's blood-moon red glowing hues sliced through the dark. And so I sacrifice again. My youngest, my sweetest, my strongest. Curse be you, One Above. As long as I shall wander in Darkness - exiled - as long as I am cursed, so will you.

Ⱥօìƒҽ 1 hour ago
For days after the attack, subsequent death and return from the brink, Aoife had lain in a fever riddled coma. Her body had writhed, coated in perspiration, sweated heavily and on occasion cried out with delusions that riddled her mind. It had been harrowing, nerve-wracking and seemed the likelihood she might survive was slim. Though on the third day, she had awoken suddenly. Eyes sharp in their retinue, gazing openly at the ceiling when the fever broke. Her wounds had healed outwardly, physically she appeared to be fine yet inwardly her emotions were wrought and her organs, blood, and heart fought a battle that seemed nigh impossible to win. Blood of a Kindred, that of a Lycan combined with her own mortality and something more it was difficult to determine just what changes she might undergo. Yet, the horror of the attack and the discovery of the World she'd never known existed seemed now some twisted nightmare while deep in her mind the constant wail and keen of a woman resonated on a regular basis - like tinnitus within the ear, but far deeper within. Regan had been there for her. That much she knew but the days seemed to pass in a haze as if while awakened she was still within that comatose state. On the fourth day, she was out of bed, able to move, walk yet the slender female had been withdrawn, quiet - not surprising considering what she'd experienced. Dulled vitality and lacking her typical vibrancy, she moved within a World she was no longer certain about and often seemed to travel within her mind while coming still and staring off into space. Seeing and yet not. By the fifth day, she felt feverish again but the hunger in her was far more than she'd ever experienced. She thought she wanted food but upon attempting to eat she had near vomited from the strong scents that wafted through her nostrils and the taste was so bland it had her gagging. Yet, she thirsted and felt starved. Regan had continued to run the Pub, needed by his business, she had not wanted to impose upon the male yet she felt him. Inside her. Within her mind. Among the chaos and cacophony that continued to dance its vibrant tango, she knew intricately where he was. His own emotions were raw, though she couldn't determine what exactly. New to this profound connection, she struggled to make sense of it all while wanting desperately to get back to her normal routines, to her life. Back to the way things were, before. It was, however, not to be for as the sun rose on the horizon to mark a new day, the woman stood within an alley, clothes were torn, ravenous tawny strands disheveled while dazed eyes focused at the body lay still at her feet. Covered in blood, confusion etched over the woman's features as if waking for a dream. Where was she? How had she got there? Why was she in the alley? She didn't recall leaving the apartment. In fact, she last remembered trying to read. The woman's corpse was torn to shreds, viscous sanguineous fluid pooled at her feet, easing around her bare toes as Aoife realized she barely wore any attire, save the torn slip she'd had on the evening before. Panic welled within as her breathing hitched and dizziness swept over her. She had killed. She had.. oh god.. nausea washed over her as a scream threatened to erupt, surging forward in a powerful manner before it broke and ripped asunder the night air as dawn reared its head. The shattering cry was a piercing force that had her stumbling back, tumbling into a pile of garbage cans that crashed to the ground with a metallic clatter as eyes turned back toward the corpse. Only -- what was once there, no longer was. There was no blood. No.. body. Nothing but Aoife, alone save a few rats that skittered along the edge against the wall of the buildings that framed the space.

Regan: Days were rolling into one endless bout of emotions. All converging until he was a mass of balled nerves, and nothing seemed to quell it. The attack was still so vividly imprinted on his mind, replaying over and over again. Each time he kicked himself for giving into that temper of his and stalking away from Aoife, leaving her at the mercy of the blood sucker that had taken her life. Or at least that was what it appeared to be at first. The anguish he felt at losing her; hearing the thud of her heart beat cease, her breathing to fail and eyes to fall closed. Not to mention the overwhelming guilt for not being there for her, and for breaking one of the cardinal rules. He had bitten her. Unable to deal with the possibility that she would be lost to him forever, he had chosen to do what was frowned upon. Not once did he second guess his decision, though it didn't stop the battle he had within himself. He had carried her from the forest, leaving behind that large pool of her life force to stain the ground. She was alive....or was she? He'd heard the death throes, had felt it ebb and cease altogether but yet she was here. How? Why? Things he didn't understand whirled around his head as he set her up in his bed on the mezzanine floor above the main part of his loft. Unfortunately the business would not run itself and he still had daily errands and jobs to do. He rushed through them each day, to get back to her as soon as he could. Regan felt useless, unsure of what to do in order to help her. She was fever locked and he did his best by mopping her brow with a cool cloth and keeping a close eye on her. Every night, he ended up fitfully dozing beside her, unwilling to succumb to a deep slumber in case she awoke. She stirred at times and each he bolted from the very edges of sleep to peer over her, but she was in that abyss of fever. Days were spent between being downstairs in the bar and up in the loft, watching her and it wasn't long before dark circles were vivid around his eyes, the vibrancy of blue dulled by fatigue, worry and concern for the woman. His best friend and lover, the woman he adored above all else. He was in his office when Aoife left the loft, a mug of coffee barely clasped in his fingers, bent over and face pressed to the surface of his desk. Laptop blinked rapidly off to one side, the ad for a needed cook half written on screen. He was being pulled into that realm of slumber but within, he felt a pull. Like an invisible thread that tied himself to Aoife and it was the piercing scream that jolted him awake. He jerked, bolting upright in his chair, paper stuck to his cheek and hair askew as wild, unfocused eyes darted about. It took him a moment to get a grip with reality and realize exactly where he was before he was on his feet, tripping over the flowing trash can of styrofoam coffee cups and empty candy wrappers. Yanking the drool laced paper from his face and flinging it aside, he was out of his office and moving through the pub. Out the door to the street where the sunlight near blinded him and he had to squint harshly. She was near, terrified and he was off, honing into her location like a beacon of light that drew him.

Aoife: As Regan approached, she sensed him first. Deep within. A gut knowing that was instinctive. She knew he sought her. She felt that panic, the fear as if it were her own and it could well have been as her own matched the terror of the unknown, of what was happening. Her eyes glossed with a sheen of moisture and yet as he neared she caught his scent like the whisper of rain in the air. All male, masculine, prowess and energy. A male she knew so well, imtimately and beyond all that had transpired he'd been attached to her for years, tethered by an unknown thread that was only now starting to dawn. She closed her eyes and pressed her head back against the wall as his footsteps approached while she tried to silence the havoc in her mind, the chaos of her thoughts. As lids slowly raised, the sparkling emerald orbs, verdant green came to rest upon his face while the moment seemed to free, to hold it's breath and Aoife felt words tumble from her plush lips. "Bidh mi a 'rianadh. Bidh mi a 'caoineadh. Tha mi a 'faireachdainn." The language, ancient, the words unknown - it was is if someone else spoke through her while those eyes widened in surprise. Her hands lowered from her ears, one slowly traipsed down her neck the other dropped to her side as she heaved her shoulders and fought to come up for air. Drowning in emotion, another scream felt it's the way forward but she stopped it from breaking break with another round of seemingly gibberish. "Dèan e a 'stand. Dèan e a 'stand." She gasped again as she shook her head and her hand moved to cup her lips while she stared at Regan, questioning, seeking answers she knew he didn't have. That etched confusion drew her brow into a deep furrow as she struggled not to slip into the ether, as if she skirted the edge of the shadows, of life and death. And yet, she almost did not trust his presence. Like the body that had disappeared, she was uncertain if this was real. If he was standing before her so her arm outstretched toward his own as she stepped forward. Her lean frame revealed by how the silken material draped over her form, moved hesitantly while she sought to press her palm to his. Feeling that instant warmth upon contact she heaved another sigh - this one of relief as she felt him there, before her. He was real. "The body.. the woman. She was right there, Regan! Right there. I don't know.. I don't know." Now able to speak, the words came in rapid fashion, firing off what she'd seen, what she'd witnessed and yet there was no evidence of foul play, no blood and certainly no corpse. "I saw her. Right there. I was covered in her blood. I thought I had... I think I .. I killed.." She couldn't bring herself to say the words, lodged within for the reality was far too horrible to think. Her hand that had covered her mouth, rose to cover her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as she began to pace, moving dirtied feet over the pavement, while the only proof of any struggle stood in the scattered garbage cans that lay strewn on the ground. "It was real, Regan. I know it. What.. what is happening to me? What.. what did you do!?" She hadn't meant to hurt him with her words. She hadn't meant to pointedly remind him of biting her, of bringing her back from the dead - but her emotions ran rampant and her need for answers demanded satisfaction as panic mixed with rising anger. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!?"

Regan: He didn't know how to approach her without frightening her further. And rehash the nightmare of the forest when she was so brutally attacked. Not to mention the moments prior when she learned all about what he was. The supernatural world that existed. Regan felt relief as her gaze came to meet his own, her name at least showing some resemblance that she knew who she was. The question was now, WHAT was she. The spoken gibberish did nothing to ease his mind however as brows dropped into a deep frown, unable to decipher what it was she was saying. He had no idea what she was trying to communicate and yet the language seemed eerily familiar. He couldn't pinpoint it however and for a moment, he wished he actually paid attention in school. Then again, if it weren't for Aoife, he would have flunked his classes anyhow. Regan shook his head and blinked once before peering at her once more. "I...I don't know what you're saying.." he admitted though he wished he could help her in that way. Anything really, to not feel like so useless. He could sense her hesitation and he glanced from his outstretched hands back to her, waiting. He almost expected her to balk, honestly he didn't know if she was altogether there. She appeared at odds, disheveled and not with reality fully but he wanted to help. He longed to help her in any way he could. He tensed as she moved, those feline senses heightened as she neared and yet when she pressed her palm to his, he felt the weight of relief. Her fingers were warm, incredibly so. Like a furnace as it heated over his own fingers and hand. His temperature was higher than most, but hers right then, exceeded his. She began spouting something about a woman. A dead one at that and Regan's brow rose. He looked around slowly and yet saw nothing untoward, save for the upheaval of trash that littered the alleyway. A shadow crossed over the strewn mess, that he quickly ascertained was a rodent yet he paid it little mind as he turned his worried gaze back to her. His thumb lightly brushed over the side of her hand, comforting as best he could before he shook his head. "There is no one there, Aoife..." he commented quietly. She was pacing now and with his hand free of her touch, he took a step forward in the hopes that he could comfort her. Calm her. He faltered however when she said those words. What did he do. Near reeled back as she yelled it at him, feeling it sock him directly in the pit of his stomach. He deserved it. He had done the one thing that could bring about his own death, should word of it spread and yet he couldn't just let her die. He was shaking his head again, guilt clear and present on his features. "I'm sorry, Aoife. I couldn't.....you were...and I..." Words blurted free but the admission that he bit her would not come out. Pursing his lips in a hint of frustration at himself, he raised a hand to rake through the messed strands of hair as he looked at her. "We'll get through this...we can figure it out...Just come with me back to the loft..." Figure out what was the question. Without thinking, his aura grew, a wave of calming energy flowing from him for a moment, in the hopes that it might soothe her. He did reach for her then, attempting to lay a hand light on her shoulder. "Come back with me and I will explain everything.." What happened so far at least.

Ⱥօìƒҽ: She watched him as he peered around, knowing how her words sounded - there was nothing to denote anything afoul had been afoot and yet, she had seen it so clearly. Had felt it. It had been so real. Her breathing faltered after she shouted the words, knowing intimately that he felt guilty. She could feel it press upon him like a lead weight, a deep, heavy burden and yet she couldn't understand WHY she could feel it. How she knew. He tried to placate her but her words sent that shock over his features leaving her to immediately feel regret but the battle in her own mind, the confusion was far too overwhelming to control the outburst. "No.. I don't want to.." Frustrated, angry, burning with latent heat as her body within changed, shifted and battled that curse he'd placed upon her. Unknown to either of them what was happening within, her body fought against the parasite that would have her become Lycan while too mingled the blood of the Kindred that had bitten her. "I was bitten. By that.. that.. that.. THING." She spat as her hand moved to her neck where the creature had torn a chunk of flesh from her. "It fed on me. It spoke. It.. told me .." She tried to recall the moment, to mull through the memories that were muddled with the fever she'd suffered for days. "I can't remember. Why? Why can't I remember? It taunted me.. told me.. giving me a gift... " She spun around to face him once more and stepped closer as the anger brimmed, untempered and unbridled she couldn't keep it back, couldn't reign it in as she surged forward with both arms out and palms pressed to his shoulders she pushed him back. "What did you do!? What. DID you DO?" She repeated while with surprising strength, she knocked him away then followed along to do it again. Inner power rising, had she been clear of mind she might question just how she, a mere mortal could have done such a thing but the shattering of her thoughts, of that piercing scream that continued to echo in her head, blinded her momentarily, making her unaware of her surroundings while she sought to make it all stop. The rush, the blood pumping through her, the wicked heartbeat that pounded, thudded and the heat that burned like a flame within causing her to breath heavier. "Dèan e a 'stad. Dèan e a 'stad!" She cried out with another guttural moan that turned into a throaty cry as she brewed within, struggled and fought. Needed to tear, to rip.. to bite. To taste. "So hungry. So hot.. why Regan why?" She knew, deep down he did not have all the answers or any for that fact. She knew she should go with him to the Loft. That this, the alley was not safe. The day was breaking, dawn rising and soon the Quarter would be brimming once more with people. Already cafes stirred, the scent of bakeries lingered heavy in her nostrils, the sounds and smells overpowering, rampant and driving her wild. "So loud. So.. everything. So much. Too much." She pushed again and again until he was pressed against the wall, save him fighting back against her. Pinning him with unnatural prowess, her emerald orbs sought his, beseeching as his own internal battle mingled with hers. "I feel you. I FEEL you. As if you are inside.. crawling around inside me, Regan. I feel so much..I feel it all."

Noemie: Hearing the shouting a women near by, the she wolf had woken up from her slumber with one eye open. "What in the sam hell?" She asked herself. Shaking her head after falling onto her feet from the tree she had slept in for several nights now. Wiping off the leaves that were still on her frame, and walked with her bag that was full of herbs. Shortly after she heard what sounded like a struggle between a man and a women. Blinking a few times before dashing off to the location. What was going on? There were usually not many fights, at least from what she could tell. After a few minutes she saw a women pinning a male to a wall and it didn't take long to know what had happened. Though there was not a wound. It must had been prolonged? Shaking her head once more and walked towards the two of them cautiously. "Hun, relax. You need to let go of him, he is trying to help you." She began. Noemie would place her bag down near the male's feet and look at the women softly along with caringly. "You're in shock. It's okay. We can help you." Pausing before looking at the male. "I have herbs in my bag if she needs it. The herbs I can use will help calm her down." Very delicately the women would place her hand over top of the other ladies. Showing that the other could trust her. Locking her ice irises with the emerald ones of the ladies. "Let you in on a secret. I was attacked too. I was forced to become this as well. I was hanging out with a friend that I had known for years. She taught me everything I know and before I knew it, she bit me. Not too long after, she was killed by a priest. I had no one to help me through all of it." Lightly running her fingers over the ladies cheek with a light smile. "I understand your angry but don't be angry at him. He didn't do this. He's trying to help you. I will help too if you will let me." Being tactful in her strategy to try and be the voice of reason, she pulled the women's hands off the male softly and slowly. "My name is Noemie. What is yours?"

Regan: She refused to go back to the loft, and yet he knew, it was the safest place for her. Until they could come to some kind of realization of what had happened to her. Of what WAS happening to her. The calming effect did little however, not just to her but to himself as it waned and that guilt returned. Mixed with regret that he felt was brimming from her. Along with anger. Whether it was toward him or not, he felt that it was. He'd done this to her, partially and it killed him to know she suffered because of it. He had no idea that the infectious nature of his bite was battling inwardly with her body, along with that of the blood sucker who'd fed and had, in all respects, killed her. He remained silent while she recanted the trauma of being bitten and momentarily he thought the THING she referred to was him. She'd mocked him after all, laughed directly in his face over the fact that he was leopard. And still, he didn't know if she truly believed what she saw when he shifted and proved it to her. Her remembering why, he could only shake his head at. Most of what she spouted, shaking his head was all he could do. He had no answers for her and was in much of the same darkness as her. She closed in and shoved him then. Hard. Regan wasn't expecting the force that she exuded and he stumbled back, surprise registering upon his features as he managed to catch his footing but she was pushing him again. His hands came up to ward her off, not wanting to harm her and yet that strength was uncharacteristic of her. Something was certainly at work there. Those words again were flung at him and the pain that flickered over his face was evident before he felt the rough texture of the wall behind him, pressing against his back. Hands grabbed at her, in an attempt to pin her wrists and stop the forceful shove of her against him. "Aoife...stop..." he managed to say. His beast was rebelling against the nature of her assault, rearing up and clawing at a fleshy exterior in a bid to be set free to retaliate. Gaze flickered, that sharp golden hue rising to the forefront as he uttered a low growl in the back of his throat. He didn't want to hurt her. She felt him. As much as he felt her. All those emotions colliding with one another and it was setting his beast on edge. A precarious edge. "I feel it too, but why...I don't know..." He was merely answering her, not so much as posing the question why. She clearly did not have any answers either. Topaz hues fixated on her features, roving the contours of her face while his breathing deepened and nostrils flared, tugging in her scent, stronger as that creature within tried to claw free. Those senses so highly tuned gave Regan the indication of someone else nearby. Scent first which was knowingly lycan before the shine of topaz shifted across to the end of the alley as a woman approached. Confusion etched upon his face at her words however, thinking that herbs were not going to be an easy fix with this one. She didn't realize that in part, he was to blame. He'd infected her, and it was that very infection that warred with her body. "Careful...we don't know what this is...it's not...just the bite, it can't be.." He was mumbling, more to himself than anything, unaware that he had just admitted the fact. He didn't even think to offer his name as those feline eyes snapped back to Aoife, fingers still grasping her wrists.

Aoife: Enthralled by the latent change and firey heat within she did not hear any other approach as all her attention was upon the male before her. His handsome face representive of all she loved, of childhood memories and firsts, of passionate encounters atop rooftops during a storm, his physique so well known to her and yet, he was not the same. His truth had changed her. The World was not all she'd believed but far more much. Inwardly she yearned for him with such aching need and longed to go back to a week ago before all this happened but the anger within, the realization of her death, of the attack, of reality being so distorted was so much for one person. A victim she had been, innocent in many ways while life had been so viciously and cruelly taken. But, Regan had brought her back? From what she understood, from what she believed. He had.. changed her. Yet, instinct within, like a deeper, recessed memory chanted the truth. The language she'd spoken, the Gaelic that had tumbled from lips danced in her mind as he took her wrists and attempted to stop her onslaught. She did not know her own strength, or how she'd managed to get him against the wall and surprised registered on her face as she seemed to realized that she had moved them. "Regan.." His name fell loosely from lips, an inner plea lost within the tone to stop the itch and to bate the beast within - wanting to draw the creature to the surface. It was a tug, a draw. A pull. And a need that had her inhaling the air with newly born heightened senses that flashed with awareness and sensual undertones. She leaned in and without help, ran her nose against his neck up toward his jawline as she inhaled his scent, breathing him in while her body pressed to his - until the voice interrupted from behind. A lowly rumble in her throat shocked her as did her own actions as she angled her head sharply and peered over shoulder toward Noemie, though as the woman aimed to draw Aoife away, she would not move. "Don't touch." She countered with a hiss through teeth that was certainly not characteristic of the Irish-bloodied lass. Her brow furrowed again as Noemie spoke of being attacked, yet Aoife seemed lost between two Worlds, uncertain of her footing and disoriented with a thirst she couldn't understand. "So loud. Oh.. the screaming is so loud." She moaned, her tone much akin to a lowly wail that resonated from inside while she fell against Regan. "So hot. So much noise." She moaned and seemed transfixed upon the male, riddling through the torrid emotions that surged through him and the guilt, yet also feeling that wildness, the animal, the connection not just to Regan but to the very Beast itself.

Noemie: Watching the male grab her wrists and she listened to his words even though they were mumbled, the women nodded to him. Taking a few steps backwards seeing he had semi-a handle on things. As well as she heard the rumbled hiss from the lady and putting her hands up in surrender of sort. Taking yet another few steps backwards and had grabbed her bag quickly. Lifting her bag lid and had pulled out a small bottle of herbs that were mixed for the kind of reactions to poisons or venom from any kind. Sometimes it works to get rid of it and sometimes it just lightly loosens the effects. In some way the she wolf had hoped it could help. Slowly handing it to the male and gave a look of care along with worry for the women. "You don't have to use it if you don't wish to but this is some herbs that should at least help some of the effects. Not sure what's going on with her exactly but I hope this will help. Mix it in with a tea or water, have her drink off of the cup. She should be feeling better within the hour" Placing the bottle near his feet and the other females. Turning on her own feet to step away from the situation since he seemed to be the only one to calm her. Well at least she tried. Shifting her feet to go towards the pub where she and Colt had talked before. Remembering them singing together as she walked. He was slick and sweet. For once, in a long while, he gave her company. True company and conversation. No chaos, just having soda and star gazed on his Chevy. Honestly it made her smile thinking about it. Letting her digits tangle around her emerald pedant on the gold thin chain, lacing it around the small flesh. Holding it tight in her grasp. <i> "Noemie...." Pausing as the ginger female coughed off blood from the her throat, while the she wolf held onto her friend Lynn. Pressing down on the gash she had from what the priest had done to her, shot her with a silver bullet with wolfsbane hidden inside. It was a lethal dose for lycans. The dying women gave the other her necklace and she gently took it while tears ran down her own cheeks. "Keep this, never loose hope......that you will find someone...... A pack, a mate....... A family that will love you like I did." Lynn spoke in mid-coughs. The copper wolf nodded while the tears grew stronger along her form. "I love you too, Little Lynn..." She spoke through her tears. </i> Shaking her head of the thoughts and ran into a truck that had 'Call and will settle away a price' on a piece of paper in the window, 82 Chevy in decent condition. Circling the car, lightly brushing her fingers over of her free hand over the red paint. Examining it and even let go of her jewelry to take a look under the engine along with seeing if anything else was wrong with the vehicle. Not a damn thing. Turning her head to the side and smiled brightly. Who in their right mind would get rid of this beauty? Well either way, she was going to snag it. Pulling out a cell phone from her bag and called the number on the paper.