Snippet #2558003

John caught his clothing, having just managed to clean the rest of his body before drama seemed to cascade over the house. A frown breached his expression as he caught a glimpse of the tear on Riley's cheek. He quickly wiped himself down and pulled on his boxers and jeans, the most important articles of clothing, he shuffled on his boots as he went down the hall throwing his shirt and coat over his shoulder. "I- I need to stop at my house my car's still there and so is my stuff. Don't need to re-pack everything it's in bags in my room" He said to Riley's back as he followed him through the house hurriedly, yanking his shirt on over his head.

The two slipped out the back, John shifting to his were form for the use of his padded paws in the swirling leaves, he tossed his keys to Riley to open his car with and ran inside the small house. He was going to seriously miss that place. His TV, his movies, his music. He picked up his bag of weapons, unzipping it briefly for a 9mm pistol. He checked that it was loaded and the safety was on before he tucked it into the belt of his pants. He gathered a few old CDs and hesitated, glancing at the edge of the old box sitting in his closet buried among cast aside clothing. He raised a eyebrow. There where all sorts of things he'd like to bring from that but he shook his head. It wasn't necessary. He did however stop at the fridge and scooped all the beer into his clothes bag and stuffed a pack of fresh cigarettes into his pocket before rushing out the door. Riley popped the trunk open for him with the keys and he stuffed everything in before taking his seat at the helm.

They where off, quickly, kicking up dirt as the tires skidded. They raced past the mob down the road, John rolling down the window just to flip them all off as they passed. He chuckled and blasted CD burned copies of all the old classic rock songs John used to obsess himself over as a kid. He grinned over at Riley in the passenger seat. He seemed to have already forgotten the incident in the shower, that or he really wanted to avoid bringing it up. He pounded on the steering wheel, singing all points to Run for the Hills by Iron maiden at the top of his lungs, guitar solos included.