[center][color=FF6347][h1]Charlotte Wardwell[/h1][/color]
[color=FF6347]Time[/color]: [s]~4pm[/s] A short while later
[color=FF6347]Location[/color]: Apartment #405, Northern Residential Area (East of the University)
[color=FF6347]Interaction[/color]: (Soon) Dante [@FunnyGuy]
[/center]

[hr]

If she could do anything about, she would be a couch burrito for the next few hours. 

Such was what Charlotte thought to herself as she sat on the old couch in her apartment, donning a baggy sweater (Note: See her profile pic) black-and-white-striped sweater and wrapped up right in a thick, warm, tan blanket with white edges to ward against the cold. To her the whole arrangement was like a thick layer of comfortable heat, the sort of sensation she got when the bed was warm and she had to get up early in the morning. The kind of comfortable that made the body untense and relax, enveloped in sheer comfort and kind of radiating warmth that people had to ultimately give up to go about the day. It was the least she had tried to do, after putting a cup of comfortable lukewarm hot cocoa into her fresh out of the microwave albeit, after the whole incident and how tired it made her feel. It was like someone had sapped the strength out of her limbs by the time she got back, and frankly the prospect of a nap was enticing and yet too late to give into at the same time. 

In front of her the TV was on, and at that currently playing some kind of mindless reality show. Something about a Bounty Hunter? Probably was a re-run, footage seemed early 2000s to boot, but it was something she knew would keep her mind busy and off the crap still prodding at the back of her head. 

[color=orange][i]'We are all still right here, you know, and if anyone got trail of that 'accident' then you won't be alone for too long.'[/i][/color]

[color=violet][i]'Zis' is true, preparations or at least a circle would be good at zee' least, though do please continue to take your time. If anything eez' on your tail zehn'-"[/i][/color]

[color=lightblue][i]'Stop, all of you! Let the poor girl rest for a moment. It has been a rather long time since [b]'she'[/b] spoke up, and a few of us at least know how draining taking something from her can be. Or from the rest of us at that.'[/i][/color]

That one voice did have a point, or rather she simply wanted to agree with her at this point in time for the sake of her exhaustion. Meh.

Whatever that one voice that had lent her something back there, however, she was different than all the rest by a long shot. So quiet and simple, and yet so soft and tender she'd almost wanted to cry. Like an understanding mother, of all things, who was trying to offer assistance without all of the fuss or bravado some of these voices could have. It was...ah...how should she compare it? Like the other voices were rays of sunshine, all tied back to the root of it all that was the sun. In that case, the voice was more like the sun, even farther back in time than the others. She hadn't heard some of the oldest voices much if any, though all were equal parts draining to tap into when they gave her some kind of 'help', but while she couldn't pinpoint this one's point in the 'timeline' of her past lives she could tell it was among the oldest. Such was the sway she felt it had back there, one which had a magnitude of respect and reverence that almost commanded it despite its nature. 

As much as she tried to mindlessly watch a bit of TV and let the cocoa soothe her nerves, this question more than the other weighed on her. Sure there was the raw anxiety and panic and fear, but that was another matter she was trying to remedy at the same time at least...er, somewhat. It was a mess, and she'd already burnt those old bloody clothes in the bathroom and used plenty of smell-eliminating aerosols to try to not smell up her whole apartment with fire. Or in other words, she had taken the painstaking anxious route to try to rather hastily and quickly clean up after the mess out of raw worry that some other werewolf would be coming after her soon. 

Though with the attack on the University, that was perhaps the least of her problems if there were other forces at work here on 'that' kind of scale.

...Maybe she should make herself another packet of cocoa?