"Stop the cab at the end of the bridge please." A voice called from the back seat of the yellow cab, which smelled of stale smoke and had water stains from the recent hurricanes to hit the north east. "Just up here on the right, you may drop me at the corner." The voice called out again, this time an arm to follow which was holding on a few bills for the long travel he had made to get here. As the cab pulled off to the right and down the off ramp, he idoled in the nearest parking lot which was now vacant due to the time of night. "Thank you, please keep the change." Once more the voice called as the door opened and the male exited the backseat of the cab, grabbing the suitcase, doctor's bag, and briefcase from the trunk. As the compartment slammed shut he waved the taxi off and stood there for a moment.
The moon was high above him but hidden by clouds of light pollution from the city and the smell was overwhelming to him, hitting his nostrils viciously. The scents of sewage, dirty water, and city life managed to turn his stomach nearly making him sick for a moment. As he regained his senses, he listened for the sounds of others, and focused of finding the border's to the lands of which he sought. Gathering his belonging's, he set off on foot following instincts to the strong scent of a male and female wereling scent. As he drew closer to the border, the scent was heavily marked as if the lands were not just new to him, but new to the owners of the beautiful layout. The male standing in at about 6'5" placed his bags down upon the grassy knoll and he stood there, pondering on how to call upon the leader's of the this new land. Trying to decide if shifting was in his best interest. Instead, the male stood there and mentally called out hoping someone would answer him relatively soon.
Sitting upon the duffle back luggage that was placed at his feet, his took out a cell phone and began to go through contacts trying to find someone here in America who would be able to assist him in his transformation of rogue to future doctor of a pack, or at least he hope. To no prevail, he closed the phone and placed in the briefcase which was chalk full of paperwork and resume's for the land's leaders to provide them with accurate details of his life and experiences. All he wished for was a place to practice and settle down. Currently, time was on his side and he began to tap his foot to a tune that played on repeat in his mind. The Kansas hit played on repeat, as meerly a theme song for his future journey back home. A smile crossed his face as the shadows began to take over the parking lot, the sounds of water lapped ont he shore and everything was starting to come back to him, memories of long ago. It was painful for the nearly 300 year old man, but he paced through it for he still had many years to go and all he wished was to serve someone the best he could and begin a practice in the pack, providing his services to the best of his abilities. The doctor sat patiently while waiting for a response.
The moon was high above him but hidden by clouds of light pollution from the city and the smell was overwhelming to him, hitting his nostrils viciously. The scents of sewage, dirty water, and city life managed to turn his stomach nearly making him sick for a moment. As he regained his senses, he listened for the sounds of others, and focused of finding the border's to the lands of which he sought. Gathering his belonging's, he set off on foot following instincts to the strong scent of a male and female wereling scent. As he drew closer to the border, the scent was heavily marked as if the lands were not just new to him, but new to the owners of the beautiful layout. The male standing in at about 6'5" placed his bags down upon the grassy knoll and he stood there, pondering on how to call upon the leader's of the this new land. Trying to decide if shifting was in his best interest. Instead, the male stood there and mentally called out hoping someone would answer him relatively soon.
Sitting upon the duffle back luggage that was placed at his feet, his took out a cell phone and began to go through contacts trying to find someone here in America who would be able to assist him in his transformation of rogue to future doctor of a pack, or at least he hope. To no prevail, he closed the phone and placed in the briefcase which was chalk full of paperwork and resume's for the land's leaders to provide them with accurate details of his life and experiences. All he wished for was a place to practice and settle down. Currently, time was on his side and he began to tap his foot to a tune that played on repeat in his mind. The Kansas hit played on repeat, as meerly a theme song for his future journey back home. A smile crossed his face as the shadows began to take over the parking lot, the sounds of water lapped ont he shore and everything was starting to come back to him, memories of long ago. It was painful for the nearly 300 year old man, but he paced through it for he still had many years to go and all he wished was to serve someone the best he could and begin a practice in the pack, providing his services to the best of his abilities. The doctor sat patiently while waiting for a response.