Post by Jerome on Dec 27, 2008 20:51:29 GMT -5
The sun shone brightly in the sky as they walked towards the alpha. For the moment, Jerome was focused on supporting Shyla. Seeing a close friend like that took it's toll. It would take time before she was completely over it, but that was the way of things. The lycan himself had never really had friends. Anytime he let one get close, they usually perished soon after. The darkness and ruthlessness of this world grinding them into nothing. The only friend that had survived this earth was in Europe. He had no way of contacting his lost comrade. However, another story another time.
So focused was Jerome on making sure Shyla was ok, he didn't notice the human female until he stood several meters away. The lycan's eyelids tightened into squints. The alpha's presence at the beach was one thing, but to have him conversing with a human was a completely different league. He trusted the humans he knew, but the strangers were different. One could never be to careful, especially with humans armed such as she was. They usually turned out to be hunters, even though he protected them from vampires himself. Occasionally he'd be protecting himself from the hunter he was trying to keep safe.
Jerome posture became steady and alert, ready to move on a moments notice. Presently, he had no quarrel with the woman, however that didn't mean she wouldn't start a conflict. His steel grey eyes shifted to Shyla in astonishment as she blurted out Strikes position. The lycan had to use every ounce of willpower he contained to stop from correcting her. There was a time and place for such things, and this wasn't it, especially in the presence of a clear outsider. Although, the damage had been done. Strikes identity had been revealed all thanks to his mates loose lips. He'd talk to her later, in private.
Jerome studied the woman carefully, watchful for any wrong moves or twitches. The sight of this stranger taking glances at his mate was the foundation for a low growl to sound suddenly. Then, what he had been waiting for, movement. The females hand slipped inside her coat. Subconsciously, Jerome moved Shyla behind him, the instinct to protect his mate taking over. The lycans senses were precise, waiting for the scent and vision of a firearm, or the glint of a blade. However, it was all for nothing as the woman pulled out a capsule. The growl that had intensified while the woman reached into her coat died down slowly, but not completely. It still bordered on rising again.
It is a chemical mixture to help you calm and recover. The tone of the strangers voice was non threatening. Any fear of a situation with this woman was practically wiped out. The capsule flew through the air into Jerome's hands. His steady gaze went to the pill, inspecting it. This woman could actually be trying to help, or this could be a trick. Jerome's facial expression twisted into confusion. Although the woman showed no signs of hostility, the pill could still be a trick. The steel of his eyes stared into the violet of hers, speaking volumes. Even a deaf person would know the story those eyes told. If anything happens to her, you'll regret you ever stepped foot in New York.
So focused was Jerome on making sure Shyla was ok, he didn't notice the human female until he stood several meters away. The lycan's eyelids tightened into squints. The alpha's presence at the beach was one thing, but to have him conversing with a human was a completely different league. He trusted the humans he knew, but the strangers were different. One could never be to careful, especially with humans armed such as she was. They usually turned out to be hunters, even though he protected them from vampires himself. Occasionally he'd be protecting himself from the hunter he was trying to keep safe.
Jerome posture became steady and alert, ready to move on a moments notice. Presently, he had no quarrel with the woman, however that didn't mean she wouldn't start a conflict. His steel grey eyes shifted to Shyla in astonishment as she blurted out Strikes position. The lycan had to use every ounce of willpower he contained to stop from correcting her. There was a time and place for such things, and this wasn't it, especially in the presence of a clear outsider. Although, the damage had been done. Strikes identity had been revealed all thanks to his mates loose lips. He'd talk to her later, in private.
Jerome studied the woman carefully, watchful for any wrong moves or twitches. The sight of this stranger taking glances at his mate was the foundation for a low growl to sound suddenly. Then, what he had been waiting for, movement. The females hand slipped inside her coat. Subconsciously, Jerome moved Shyla behind him, the instinct to protect his mate taking over. The lycans senses were precise, waiting for the scent and vision of a firearm, or the glint of a blade. However, it was all for nothing as the woman pulled out a capsule. The growl that had intensified while the woman reached into her coat died down slowly, but not completely. It still bordered on rising again.
It is a chemical mixture to help you calm and recover. The tone of the strangers voice was non threatening. Any fear of a situation with this woman was practically wiped out. The capsule flew through the air into Jerome's hands. His steady gaze went to the pill, inspecting it. This woman could actually be trying to help, or this could be a trick. Jerome's facial expression twisted into confusion. Although the woman showed no signs of hostility, the pill could still be a trick. The steel of his eyes stared into the violet of hers, speaking volumes. Even a deaf person would know the story those eyes told. If anything happens to her, you'll regret you ever stepped foot in New York.