[center][h3][color=009900]Blaine Moore[/color][/h3]
[img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6f/27/8a/6f278a4b4feb69ccb279107658c61eb8.gif[/img]
[color=009900][b]Location:[/b][/color] Washington Square
[color=009900][b]Interacting With:[/b][/color] Genevieve Alleron {[@Alfhedil]} [/center]
	Blaine was walking slowly on the outskirts of the festivities that had engulfed Washington Square. There were people, pavilions, booths. She passed near the arts and crafts booth of Linda Hayward, the proprietor of the shop where Blaine sold her smaller carvings. Linda caught sight of her and motioned for Blaine to approach.

	"Hey, Blaine." She greeted. "Didn't expect to see you here. I was under the impression that you moody artist types avoided events like this." She winked at Blaine to lessen the blow of her barb. It was the usual banter between them. Linda had been the curator of a big art gallery in Boston before she'd decided to retire in Salem and run her own small shop. So she knew all too well how to handle temperamental artists.

	Blaine grinned. [color=009900]"Oh, you know how we artists are, Linda. You never know what fancy's gonna strike us."[/color]

	"Ha! Truer words, my friend. Truer words." She answered grinning and went on to tend to a customer who was eyeing one of Blaine's carvings of a small woodland fairy.

	The Alpha Were took the opportunity to slip away and distance herself as best she could from the festivities without standing out as someone trying specifically to avoid the event. All the while she was walking seemingly aimlessly through the throng of people, she was alert and attentive to her surroundings. She'd pinpointed the location of her wolves. She'd even made it a point to make her presence known to them. She'd passed by the booth where William and his boss were busy servicing clients. She nodded to the young man as a way of encouragement, while also using her telepathic bond with her pack to contact all present at the Square to telegraph her strength to them. She hoped it would help calm her pack-mates, even if she, herself, felt the heavy weight of this oppressive spell or incantation or whatever that was placed upon the grounds of the festivities.

	Still, she didn't allow her own anxiety to reach the other Weres. Instead she tried to focus her thoughts on something else. She allowed herself to remember the happy times back in New Orleans with her aunt and Loup Garou's pack. The Mardi Gras festivities. The crowds, the joyous energy that accompanied the celebrations. And the food. Oh, man, the food! If there was anything Blaine missed from her old life in New Orleans, besides her aunt and Clea, it was the food. Even with her aversion to seafood, the Louisiana Creole cuisine still had enough to offer a foodie like her. Blaine loved to enjoy food to the fullest. She enjoyed cooking and eating the fruits of her labor as much as she enjoyed eating scrumptious meals in restaurants and pubs. Each cook was different and endowed the dishes they prepared with their unique character and temperament. But most of all, Blaine enjoyed sharing her love of food with similar-minded enthusiasts. Eating alone could never compare to a meal shared in pleasant company.

	As Blaine was wondering around through the mob of celebrating people, she caught a whiff of a scent that had her hackles raising so fast and abrupt she struggled to get herself under control as to not telegraph unwillingly to her wolves the signal for danger and send them on the prowl for an enemy. She pulled out of the sea of people into an alley and leaned heavily on the side of a building. That scent. She knew that smell! She'd sniffed it on the Weres that had attacked her in the forest a couple of days ago. The implications of her catching that scent here, now, with almost all of Salem celebrating Founder's Day. It was a troubling thought. And with the full moon encroaching on them. This was not a good sign!

	Blaine still didn't know why those wolves behaved the way they did. Wild and frenzied and full of blood-lust. However the other supernaturals, and the Hunters especially, might think them a savage and brutish race, the Weres were a proud people. With their social order and hierarchy and codes of conduct. True, they were predators at their core. But they were not murderers. They hunted for food like any other animal, but they did not hunt for sport. That was a human invention. And in that regard, humans were way worse than Weres. Blaine thought back, way back, on the day she was turned. And that same smell had imprinted on the little girl's memory from the crazed Were that had attacked her and her family.

	Her travels throughout Ireland to discover the true nature of the attack had proven almost completely fruitless, save for the fact that she'd discovered about the Were not being in control of his or her faculties. From what she'd gathered the attacker had probably been cursed or hexed to act like a mindless beast tearing into flesh and bone. Those few nights ago when Blaine'd caught that same scent in the forest after her run in with Genevieve at the Indo, she'd known it immediately as the same one from that fateful day when she'd become what she was now. Her turning had not been of her choosing, and even if she'd made the most of it, it was by the virtue of her father's sacrifice that she'd survived the attack to even have the opportunity to turn. By all rights she should have died with her family that day. But since she was spared she'd vowed to discover the truth behind the attack. And help restore the reputation of the Weres.

	As soon as Blaine had gotten a hold of herself, she emerged from the alley with the intent to follow the scent. Instead her nose caught a whiff of another unforgettable aroma that had her hearth aflutter and her Were senses reeling. A soft, familiar voice spoke in her ear and Blaine was helpless to prevent her body from reacting. It was only through sheer strength of will that she managed to prevent her canines from elongating, unfortunately she was not able to stop her eyes from glowing Were blue as she turned to look at the person that haunted her thoughts and dreams almost constantly. She blinked a few times in fast succession to mimic surprise but also to camouflage as best she could the momentary glow of her eyes' partial shift.

	Heart pounding she still could not contain her grin upon meeting Genevieve. She was positive she looked like a complete fool, smiling from ear to ear like that, but she almost didn't care.

	[color=009900]"Well, aren't you the stealthy one, Mademoiselle Alleron! Not afraid to receive a surprised smack in the face, sneaking up on people like that?"[/color] Blaine's eyes shone with pure mirth, the Were glow from a moment ago was gone. Her Creole accent becoming more pronounced upon saying Genevieve's name. [color=009900]"You are correct though."[/color] Blaine answered. [color=009900]"I'm not usually one for crowds and big events. But even with not being a Salem native I've lived here long enough to feel at least obliged to honor the Founder's Day celebrations."[/color] Blaine lowered her head and looked at Genevieve conspiratorially. [color=009900]"Plus, some of the food they sell during the festivities is to die for."[/color] The Alpha whispered her declaration, her animal magnetism making the statement sound almost seductive, delivered in that low tone of voice.

	Blaine straightened and asked, all innocence. [color=009900]"And what's your excuse?"[/color] Her blue eyes still twinkling with mirth.