Riley Carlson, or as he was more commonly known as these days, the Werewolf, was sitting impatiently in the break room in the back. He was sitting on a small seat near the back of the room, surveying anybody who was around. At the moment, though? That would be nobody. He had come to the back room to wait for some other wrestler to show themselves so that he could finally get his first match planned out. After all, most wrestlers would eventually show up here at one point or another. But no matter how long he waited, it did not seem that they were coming. It had been a long time since he had last wrestled, and that match had resulted in his own defeat. He didn't usually care whether he won or lost, but now...now he was with other weird wrestlers like himself. Now, it would be okay. Now, he could really try to win. So now, he just had to wait and find somebody to fight....

Riley raised a cup that he had been clutching up to his jaw, carefully tipping the water into his maw and down his throat. He wasn't sure if it was the canine DNA in him or something, but he had preferred simple water over any other refreshments for as long as he could remember. He then set his eyes up against the door again, waiting for anybody who might walk through. Hopefully, they would not be long.