ALBRECHT WOLFF
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Downtown Bellingstone
#735a75
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He caught the tail-end of her comment as he pulled his gaze from Sydney and turned back to look at Carrie once more. At first, he had planned on continuing the conversation by picking up where she had begun to drift off, but she was quick to redirect the conversation once Sydney had disappeared back into the diner. He couldn't help but wonder if Sydney had a feeling he was here, if she knew her lover had returned to Bellingstone.
"Has he now?" asked Albrecht, smiling a little bit. He gave a soft laugh of disbelief. "Didn't really think he had it in him." But this laugh died off as she continued to speak.
"I suppose it could 'stir things up'," Al conceded, making air quotes for emphasis. He looked towards the diner once more before turning to Carrie again. "I have a duty to the pack though. I never really abandoned it - I'm sure they know that too." A smirk pulled at his lips. "Besides, Axel's competent enough, but he never was one for leading. You and I both know that."
He might have said more, but he suddenly perked up slightly, his eyes widening for a moment as a scent hit him. The breeze must have changed, suddenly bringing the smell straight to him. It was a werewolf's scent - that much he knew almost instantly. Albrecht looked over his shoulder with a sort of eagerness, as though hoping to find a member of the pack waiting for him, but instead, the only person there was...well, he wasn't what Al had expected.
The man had an awkwardness about him, and the scent he gave off reminded Al of when Axel had begun to come into his own, gaining his abilities as he had gone through puberty. It almost made Al want to pity him, and perhaps his face contorted for a moment into something that displayed this sudden concern for the timid man. He looked like he hadn't seen the outside world in days.
"Hello there," Al greeted, quite matter-of-factly as he gave a slight wave of his hand. "Can't say I ever met you before." Albrecht wondered all of a sudden if the werewolf before him was of the pack. He had to be, right? Rogue werewolves never really fit into the framework of Bellingstone. And so it could only help to mention himself, no?
"I'm Al," he stated, turning his body almost one hundred and eighty degrees so that he leaned on the back of the bench, his torso fully facing the man as he extended a large hand. "Al Wolff."