[u][i][b]Wolfe, Natasha, Tristan.[/b][/i][/u]
[[@cpldingo][@Affili]]
 
Tristan nodded toward Wolfe, sympathetically. “That is very helpful, Wolfe. Thank you for such a thorough account...” He brushed back the unruly locks of hair around his left ear. 
 
“And you are correct, Natasha. It does sound like a much different ritual, yet, we should not discount it. We must note both the differences and the similarities.”

“You know Wolfe, I was a military man once.” He stood from his desk now, and approached a small pane of glass on the wall, it glowed soft blue, bubbles and small fish floated freely past. “I was in the navy… I can’t say which navy, of course. I was born without land-legs. I was the only one in my company who was anxious to be docked and granted shore-leave, and relieved once we were back on the open water. I was different than the other men. I didn’t realize how different until… Well… It became obvious... It is inevitable, to become who you are, I think. Someday you will find yourself. Like it or not.” He looked a bit sad. He touched the glass, a little fish followed his finger with its nose as he traced it along the glass.
 
He motioned to the picture on the table. “After I was discharged from the Navy I was a bit lost. I met Ibrahim and Slay first. Ibrahim was diverted from some quest for enlightenment, I was never sure if Slay was just tagging along for fun or if Slay was the reason for the diversion. They said I was different, like them, and that they wanted to find others like us, find the ‘truth’. We just… Met everyone else along the way. A collection of misfits. Hibiscus was our means to make peace with the dead, Magnus connected us to power and a network we never would have known about, Sooleawa was our soothsayer... and really our heart… We had fun, we faced danger, we helped a lot of people, discovered a lot of truths, banished shadows… Then I developed a vision for something greater than us… I was the only one with a mind for that kind of thing, so, it ruined us really. We parted ways. Ibrahim left to make his coffee fortunes, the others left for their own reasons, or, for their own eternal rest. I remember them, and continue, because I believe in the purpose that they forgot or died for...”
 
Tristan stopped, catching himself in his drawn out story.
 
“My apologies, you came here to speak, not to listen to me ramble…” He walked away from the pane of glass. “You must have come to my office for your own reasons. Please, tell me how I can help you.”
 
There was an awkward silence. The implication being that, Tristian did [i]not[/i] summon Wolfe at this time. Perhaps he just forgot… He was known to be a bit forgetful…
 
Wolfe, while listening to Tristan speak, would begin to feel a bit… [i]different[/i]. A sharp itch behind his ear, the smells in the room would become rather vivid (The room was very clean and didn’t have much of a smell on it’s own, maybe a bit of faded bleach. Tristan smelled like salt and seaweed. Natasha smelled like trouble…) Their voices too, would become a bit harsh on his ears, he would slowly feel less and less comfortable, unsettled, a wild energy rising up in him… 
 
If Wolfe tried to answer Tristan. His words would be minced between growling sounds that emanated from his throat, which, felt thickened and constricted now…
 
Wolfe was changing… The wolf pin on his chest glowing slightly… His body and his muscles felt tight and his stomach felt empty… Hungry…