CoR Bloodstones Gotta Bloodstone

[Hollow glade]

It was late, Grisham was tired and yawning through the streets as he left the Rusty Nail behind. Three days, that's how long it had taken for a Jackal to show up and try to piss around. He had had to almost shift for the shitty excuse for an idiot to get the FUCK out. And for him to put away his, frankly concerning looking, penis.

There weren't many people around, he took a few more swigs from the water bottle he had acquired and felt the usual burn of the clear liquid inside slide down his throat. Always the welcome sensation unless he planned to drive. So he put his hands in his pockets and walked under shitty streetlights and badly trimmed trees, the few that remained alive. When a leather jacket caught his attention. And the man who wore it. Because he had a BONE to pick.

"OI LAD, WAIT UP!!! ARE YOU" He stopped half-shouting when he reached him.

"You a Bloodstone??" He was pretty sure but he'd check anyway. Grisham squinted at Bastien with his very yellow eyes that were totally not wolf-like and did not stand out especially at night.

 

[Tiko]

Bastien had just stepped out of the convenience store and was headed for his bike when Grisham spotted him. He narrowed his eyes on the stranger at the abruptness of his approach. Something about the man had his hackles up so to speak.

"What is it? I don't have time for groupies," Bastien answered as he tucked the box of smokes he had purchased into an inside pocket of his jacket.

The parking lot was poorly lit, and the only street lamp nearby flickered and dimmed in irregular intervals.

 

[Hollow glade]

He didn't look like he had the time, that was true. The guy almost smelled tired. But that was his own problem.

"I'll ask for an autograph when you lot do your fucking job! We're on the edge of your territory or something and there's another group called something Jackals that keep vandalisin' and literally pissing in the place where I just started working. The Rusty Nail? I'm pretty sure my boss pays you protection money." He didn't growl, because he wasn't about to start that kind of conflict. He looked at the other man and kept his distance. He was just asking them to do what supposedly came with paying one pack of bastards. To keep other shit fucks AWAY.

 

[Tiko]

Who the fuck was this guy?

Bastien didn't recognize him, though he did recognize the name of bar that Grisham has mentioned. An old haunt of Ragenard's.

"You've got quite a mouth on you for not knowing what the fuck you are talking about," Bastien said.

There was an edge of hostility to his tone as he mounted his bike, determining Grisham not worth his time.

"I'll pass along your 'grievances'," Bastien said before he was off.

As he sped into the night, he couldn't help but feel troubled. Ragenard wanted them out in force, putting on a show of strength, but they where spread thin and couldn't be everywhere at once. They where hurting and needed more prospects.

 

[Hollow glade]

"Thanks!" Shouted Grisham after the biker, even if he doubted he could've heard him at all. Maybe the guy was right and he shouldn't have said anything. Maybe Marc was right about that too. But... If this got them to come check out the issue, even if the local pack took an issue with him, then it was worth it. He drank a few more mouthfuls of his choice of drink and headed home. By the time he let himself fall onto what he called a bed, his bottle was empty.