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He stood leaning against a burnt out street lamp, one hand resting in the pocket of his coat, he is seemingly relaxed as he watches a steady stream of people come and go from the bar, looking to any who see him as nothing more than a man stepping out for a smoke and indecisive of whether to light the coffin nail or not, swinging his watch out of his pocket by the chain it snaps into his palm, springing open at his touch seeing the time he breathes explosively from his nose as if the time piece had personally offended him. He hated waiting, even if he was excellent at it, he hated it, his eyes track over every person leaving the bar, lingering for a moment on a particularly attractive girl leaving, and then an instant later his nostrils flare as a familiar scent drifts his way, and his distinct amber colored eyes track over the form of a woman exiting the establishment, stalking the one he'd noticed moments before, blond, good looking, moves like sex and death had a baby, blood sucking skank barbie.
An instant after seeing her the watch is stowed away in a pocket and his hand is toggling a switch at his throat, static sparks in his ear from the mic.
"Beta actual, this is Alpha actual, move into position and hold, I think I have one."
Connor had ordered a small contingent of wolves to hunt with him, they were to circle seeking out the blood suckers and wait for his command, some would be in human form, mingling with the humans, others as wolves, running the circuit of the town, they he would have to call through a set of whistles, or in his own wolf form by howling since they wouldn't be able to make use of the mic in their wolf forms, but the system was as good as he could make it at present.
Moving his hand away from the mic switch he growls softly, the sound rumbling up form deep in his chest. His voice deeper than normal, and coming out half growled in irritation, as he glances up at the moon.
"I hate hunting at night," better to burn the damned leeches out of the holes during the daytime, all the better to make them feel as hopeless as those they prey upon.
Moving non chalantly away from the lamp post he flicks the still fresh cigarette into the street, seemingly heading home he crosses the street staying well back, eyes trained on the women in front of him, undead leech or not, she was something to look at. It was almost too bad he was going to have to tear hear heart out and set her body aflame. Almost.
Now if he could get through a hunt without being interrupted he'd be happy, well, smiling wryly, happy enough at least.