Fremont blinked back at the lupine beast. Horse-sized hare, small girl with rabbit ears. Magic shit. “...Right, that checks out.”
His ears twitched. Behind him, a stuttering mess of a man seemed like he was about to piss himself, and a straight-backed Irish preschooler was saying something about introductions and working together. Lundgren tried to ignore it, but they were close enough that she seemed to be talking to both the cringing wreck and the convict. Which meant he would get to work with an uppity girl scout and a businessman with the spine of a claustrophobic oyster. Great.
He glanced over his shoulder, expressionless as he gave each one of them a long look, assessing what he saw. Magic existed, and appearances could be deceiving. Probably. Still, it wasn’t impressive. The girl was damn near a dwarf, unarmed, and had just used “greetings” as a serious greeting. In real life. What a loser. At least the girl in the shop had shown obvious signs of competency, by having a giant rabbit. That probably meant she was good at magic, or… well, he didn’t quite know how to respond to that, but surely it meant something. This red-haired one just seemed to think she was important. He grimaced ever so slightly as he turned his attention to the suit beside her.
The man was even worse. He was sweating like a whore in church. He was a beanpole, pretty, more of a boy than a man. His eyes were dinner plates, and his posture screamed panic. Ordinarily, Lundgren wouldn’t mind. As the team’s official tough guy, at least in his own head, a little fear in people around him was good. Problem was that, apparently, he was gonna have to work this guy. Who was terrified of him. He might need to do something about that at some point.
The colossal man shook his head with a disgust. Regardless, there were more important matters which required his attention. He was still starving, and the smell of chinese food was all but overpowering.
He opened his mouth, displaying his sharpened teeth, glistening with drool. He still wasn't sure how to deal with these people, it was... fuck, the pen was so much simpler. There you could just punch a man and deal with the consequences. Hell, that was how he had made most of his friends in the later years. Now he had to be civil. He spoke falteringly, failing to completely hide his concern about the newcomers. "Sure. Nice to meetcha, girl scout. You and uh... This guy. Right. I'm Lundgren. Fremont Lundgren."
The convict stood in the doorway for a few more moments before deciding to continue towards the source of food. Lundgren shouldered into the building, his head almost scraping the door frame. It was... cozy. Stacks of books were piled all around, and a carpeted interior, counter intuitive to the amount of animals that seemed to live here, contributed to the atmosphere well. Still, it seemed clean. Maybe they were trained? Magic? Probably magic. He was gonna go with that.
He closed the door behind him.
The entirety of the shop was nice. That was the problem. This wasn't prison. The chairs looked comfortable, it was cool inside, and the food smelled palatable. He wasn't in Kansas anymore.
Lundgren glanced between the rabbit-eared girl and the cool guy reading in the corner, like an asshole. All momentum was lost. He knew no one here, no one was trying to kill him, and he still hadn't fought anyone in a month.
His teeth ached, the anklet chafing. The Wolf was always louder when the man was hungry.
Trying to focus on anything except for his rising hackles and sense of paranoia, he found himself once more lost in the hypnotic gaze of the giant rabbit. How the hell did they get the damn thing in here? Was there another door, did they teleport it? Could the girl teleport rabbits? Was she
a rabbit?? He had so many questions, but he reigned it in for now.
“So uh… Do you guys sell food then?”