𝕚𝕟𝕥o 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕪𝕤𝕤

I threw myself to the wolves only to learn of the tenderness in their howl, and the loyalty in their blood. tiber loche + vienna o'clair

[blackhccrt]

[teenyfoerph]

Quinn had survived a night in a grain silo only to emerge after hellish voices filled the air and the dead fell once more to their eternal rest. Rattled, it was all she could do from her place to merely glimpse him. He’s safe, and that is what matters. Not far behind, red hair streaks away and into the woods. Renn is going home, without her. Days would go by as she deliberates. The farm has begun to be cleaned, and as much as she desires to help, she stays away. She doesn’t want him to see her like that. No. Instead, she would take the time to mentally prepare herself. There is no denying the harsh fear that has taken hold of her heart, but it would not rule her. A small flower in hand, insignificant yet so very powerful in it’s meaning, she would walk from her simple grave. Quinn follows his footsteps, or that which she believes they are, until she finds herself crossing a clear barrier marked as private property: Lochewood Acres. It is a familiar place, though not at all. Part of her considers the bar, though she thinks better of it. That is not the place, either. She couldn’t possibly do that to him. This is private, and she would not sully either of their names by airing their laundry out to dry. Quinn is overthinking this. In the dense wood upon a path, deep in these malicious thoughts, she would finally watch as he steps onto it.

Her mouth runs dry, her heart beating erratically in her chest, no doubt the fuel behind the trembling of her hands and the way her legs feel as though they’ve turned to jelly. She holds firmly to the forget-me-not, so determined to give him this flower no matter the cost. In those seconds, she would find the will to breathe life into a single word, voice choked with decades old devotion, “Tiber.." 

@tiberloche

[blackhccrt]

In the days that had followed the massacre, Tiber should have been surprised by just how quickly things went back to normal. But in Blackvale, people had a tendency to move on. Fast. The out of the ordinary was, well, ordinary, and tragedies such as these could only hope to be prevented moving forward. They were not the kinds of mysteries that could be solved with a little detective work. Soon, the council would meet and they'd need to decide what course of action they would take. Until then... It was clean up, and pretend it didn't happen. What else could you do when you were essentially trapped inside a supernatural dome? The alpha had spent some of those days meant for 'forgetting' by cleaning up around Lochewood Acres. Back and forth between barely beaten paths, removing broken tree limbs and downed branches. Once in a while, he'd come across the discarded carcass of an animal caught in the full moon's crossfire. Of course, it went right back into the earth- meant to fertilize oncoming greenery and encourage the growth of new trees. Tiber loved this property. So much of his time and effort had gone into making sure that it flourished. Especially in the days since Quinn had passed. It was one of the few places where the silence helped him to feel closer to her. It's late one afternoon when he's treading the earth on his own- bare feet and short sleeves, with no intention of returning before dark. One of the safe houses that'd been built for his wolves needed to be re-fortified, and he was off to assess the damages. Not long into his trip, he becomes shockingly aware that he's not traveling alone. He's not sure if he's being followed, or if he just so happens to be sharing the space, but Tiber knows better than to assert his ownership over the woods. Still, it doesn't stop him from slowing his movements. From tuning into the sounds of the forest as the gentle breaking of sticks and leaves give way beneath foreign steps. But this thing gets ahead of him. Ahead of him just long enough to be able to cut him off on the path ahead. Wavy golden strands streak across the greenery. The woman is considerably smaller than him, but somehow he's reduced to mere inches. Tiber stops in his tracks, blazing cerulean pools moving over her form before they lock on to familiar chocolate brown hues. The alpha can feel his pulse quicken, pounding relentlessly while it demands answers for what he sees. She cannot be here. She cannot be here. Your wife is dead.

A harsh growl vibrates deep in his chest, and it only grows more guttural as he takes a slow step forward. The same blazing blues begin to darken while a snarl envelopes his features, anger ripping through Tiber in an instant while the space between the two bodies disappears. This isn't Quinn, the voice resounds in the back of his mind, it's not possible. She's dead. Whatever this is, it's not her. Long fingers snake around porcelain skin and the wolf lifts the being off of the path. His movements are quick and swift, and in an instant he's pressing her into the weathered bark of a centuries-old tree, snarl ripping through his lungs. "How dare you." Tiber bears his teeth, tightening his grip on her throat, "Who are you? I'll kill you for this..."

[blackhccrt]

nathanielxtalbot‌:

The male had long been a lone wolf — deserting his family and pack in the wake of his actions on that fateful night. His guilt and self loathing having gotten the better of him, meant for an eternity of attempting to atone for his sins. For the copious amounts of blood that soaked his hands. The male wasn’t sure he would ever make up for such despicable evil, but he would try.  

Though as the other spoke up, he was somewhat surprised to hear that of a voice he had yet to converse with. Sure he knew of the male, his reputation and station amoungst their kind wasn’t exactly a well kept secret. “I suppose we are overdue.” He remarked, stealing a thoughtful glance in the other’s direction as he took the flask with a curt nod. “Tiberius Loche, one of the few remaining purebreds for lack of a better word.” Nate replied, taking of swig from his flask before returning it to the other. “There’s been a number of words raised as kin with your name, I have yet to make my own judgment however.”

Tiber took the flask back almost eagerly, bringing the copper coated container to his lips to take his own hearty swig. He'd tuck it back into his pocket, and lean back against the bench. Weathered fingers pressed through his locks, pushing the flaxen waves from his face. The man shrugged his shoulders gently, "My namesake doesn't have the best history. Period." He'd admit, "most of that terrible stuff you hear about is true. But that's my father. His family. That's not the legacy I plan on leaving behind." Loche wolves had been notorious for their stance on blood purity. Malcolm Loche himself had slain his own son (or so he'd believed) for daring to go against those ideals. Tiber had no interest in passing those traits on to future Loche's. "This whole being trapped thing is tricky." The alpha rolled his shoulders a little, always a little apprehensive about the subject. "You don't really have the option to leave, but you're not part of my pack. So that makes you... Somewhat of a liability." And there he'd go, barreling right into the difficult stuff. "I got no beef with the unaffiliated-" He'd make that clear right from the jump, "But I need to know that you're taking the... proper precautions."

[blackhccrt]

@erenkcya

There weren't a great many bartenders who had come and gone from Quinn's. When he'd first opened the bar, he ran things himself for a while. Until, at least, the pack's numbers had started to grow. Tiber wasn't quick to trust, and he'd never given the responsibility of taking care of his bar- his home- to just anyone. When he'd first met Eren, he knew almost right away that she'd be up to the responsibility. The longer she had been a part of his pack, the more he'd grown to trust in her judgment. The woman kept an eye on things, and unlike many of the people who frequented the place, he'd never caught her in a lie. "E-" Tiber made his way around the bar, picking up each knocked over stool as he went. "Honestly, if you need to take some time, it's okay. This whole thing has been... Insane." He was, of course, referring to the mass of undead that had descended upon them at the bonfire. "It's not the first time I've had to clean up a mess." Tiber laughed.

[blackhccrt]

@nixwilde

The entire town had been shaken to it's core after the events of the bonfire. There was no denying that, and anyone who said otherwise, Tiber would have no trouble calling them on their bullshit. Now, more than ever, he needed to make sure his pack was unified and on their toes, especially with the death of the rival pack leader weighing on their minds. Some of his wolves may have seen it as a good thing, but Tiberius had publicly denounced any favor of violence or unnecessary death. It was a tragedy to someone, and he couldn't imagine the turmoil that Lochewood Acres would fall into should it have been him to fall instead of Thomas. To say that there were some loose ends around the gully of Blackvale that he wanted to take care of was an understatement. There was one person who'd stuck out to him, familiarity evident, but Tiber didn't know who he was. He wanted to find him, and the wolf was relentless when he'd set his mind to something. "You're a hard person to track down." Tiber would quip once he'd finally found him, however many days had passed. There was a hint of amusement in his tone.

[blackhccrt]

meredithadley‌:

Meredith took hold of the person she had run into, partly to stabilize him but more so to keep her head on straight. These days, more often than not, it felt as though if she were to walk too fast her neck would just give out and her head would go rolling down the street — and would she go chasing after it? Probably not, but luckily, that wasn’t going to happen. Her brain just felt heavy and full of fog, the only time it was clear was when she was teaching as she could get away from her own thoughts and focus on the task at hand. But tonight was not one of those nights, unfortunately.

“Oh, sorry, Ti.” She murmured, rubbing her forehead before tucking her hair out of her face. It was evident that she was stressed, but why was up in the air for now. She didn’t particularly feel like giving information to her… Caleb’s brother about their relationship or lack thereof, but here she was, doing just that. “Definitely not letting a boy fuck with my heart, that’s for sure.” Her eyebrows raised up and down as her words dripped with sarcasm, but that much was obvious.

His smile broadened, though it lacked the humor that it had just moments before. This one was meant to be more comforting, perhaps. Or maybe just accepting. Empathetic. It wasn't that Tiber wasn't loyal to Caleb as his brother, but Meredith was a prominent member of his pack. One of the many who'd he'd lay down his life to protect. When there were issues presented that affected them, he'd felt concern the best he could without immediately involving himself. This particular situation was... Interesting, but he wanted to make sure that Mere knew he was paying attention. "Caleb is an idiot." Although he seemed to lack tact. Tiber didn't care. "You say the word and I'll kick his ass." He'd grin into his cup as he brought it to his lips, taking a healthy swig of the beer inside. "

[blackhccrt]

dumbass brother‌:

Caleb loved his brother more than any other person ever living, or ever having had lived, period. Alice was his wife, Josephine, his daughter, but they were never destined to be with him for the length of his life, not like Tiber. He could only imagine the grief Tiber had endured at his loss, the considerable bond between them having hurt Caleb just as much to have to knowingly live without him. “I just… I don’t know.” Caleb sighs heavily, oceanic hues scanning the crowd for the brunette vixen who’d rejected his ring. “She won’t talk to me, what the hell do you expect me to do, brother?”

His hands shift to hold his hips, lips pursing as he waited for that subtle scent to catch him, to find her among strangers and friends alike. “Look, the trash can fire was one time. I’ll keep it civil.” A hand reaches over to grasp Tiber’s lobe, tugging on his younger brother’s ear teasingly. “At least I’ve got a woman to piss off, Tibby. When are you going to get back on the damn horse?”

Tiber waved off his brothers' concerns in much the same way he'd done numerous times before. Caleb was fishing, that much was clear, though he was sure there was at least a little bit of concern laced into his query. "Is your sex life not fulfilling enough that you have to try and leech off of mine?" It was a simple way to side-step the question without answering, "Besides. You should be working on a way to fix things with her." He'd nod in Meredith's direction as she wandered idly by. "I expect you to stop doing dumb shit." Tiberius raised an expectant brow, "Proposing?" A roll of laughter escaped his chest. "You didn't expect that we wouldn't all know, right? It's a small community, C. People on the East Coast have heard about this by now."

[blackhccrt]

karacvlik‌:

Kara had separated herself from the crowd for a few moments to enjoy a quieter space on her own. Both the rowdiness and chaos that had found the cornfield was a little overwhelming for the witch. With the recent events that had come to fall upon Blackvale, perhaps she was still a little antsy about being surrounded by so many people. It never brought any good when heated wolves, vampires and hunters were left on their own to brush elbows. However, as the thought of returning home filtered through her mind — she was distracted by the sound of boasting cheers. A single look back and quick flashes of kegs explained the excitement. 

For any other reason than a glass of beer, she may not have been swayed back. However, with the amount of people who began to make their way towards the kegs — she knew she’d regret it if she waited any longer. “Apparently so. It’ll be good to remember that one should call a Loche to get the crowd on their toes,” the witch retorted when in earshot of the alpha.

Tiber laughed at the woman's retort, somehow having gotten himself involved in dishing out cups of beer for the people around him. Apparently, tapping the keg meant that he'd become the keg master. Silently, he'd have to consider a way to put the hose down and take off, though he's afraid if he does so right now that the masses might riot. "Honestly, if you hadn't figured that out by now..." Cerulean pools shift to fall over Kara, the same wolfish grin alight across his features. "You can never go wrong with a Loche at your party." His gaze moved to find Caleb walking through the crowd, and he added, "Alright, more specifically, me. Caleb is terribly boring."

[sbardot-blog]

Where: The Cornfield.

Who: Anyone else who’s stuck there.

Zombies. You’ve got to be fucking kidding. As if we really needed more undead freaks in this town. These were Sawyer’s first immediate thoughts as he found himself backed into the field with a group of other bystanders. His hand had easily found the gun tucked into his waistband, the hunter knowing better than to leave his place without it. Always be prepared, he figured, even in the event that one of the supernatural freaks he so often wanted to kill stepped out of line just a tad too far. He had always been pretty good at deciphering whether or not someone was one of them, but now with the invasion of the undead, Sawyer hardly had to think twice about what was going on.

“Go, run, get down somewhere low. If this is a prank, someone’s getting marked whether they like it or not.” The man told the person standing next to him, not particularly concerned with keeping them calm as he lifted his gun. He was glad his aim had always been perfect, the practice drilled into him from the moment he could hold a gun without the help of his father — and, in moments like these, target practice was going to be a big heap of fun.

[blackhccrt]

Tiber had made it his business to know the ins and outs of Blackvale and the people who lived there. While he couldn't give you an extensive list of the people, places, and things, there was a specific pool, if you will, of those he'd learned to keep an eye on. Kit Barnes, for example. The man had a thirst for the blood of the supernatural, most specifically those of the Lycan sort. But he wasn't the only one. Tiberius is certainly not omniscient by any means, but people talk, and you don't learn how to survive in the dark by being careless. Go, run, get down somewhere low. Sawyer Bardot hadn't so much as glanced in Tiber's direction yet. He has a sneaking suspicion that if he had, he wouldn't have been so hasty in his desire to keep him safe. "I'm not going anywhere." The alpha retorted, setting his shoulders with a soft crease in his brow. His objective would be to save as many of these people as possible, no matter their breed. If Sawyer was going to make that difficult for him, well... " — Not gonna let these people die." He'd nod, teeth bared, as he prepared to defend what was left of the bonfire's patrons from another wave of undead.

[witchyrenn-deactivated20200209]

Open starter to anyone in the cornfield:

In the mass confusion, Quinn was lost once more, procuring a startling growl from the woman as she took off in a random direction. Frantically, her eyes raked the vicinity for the blonde, but the gaze kept falling to dismal sights of torn limbs and fragmented humans, all falling victim to the risen dead. It was hard to look away from, fascination and disgust warring in her mind, but when she saw him - the object of her friend’s affections - she took off after him, intent on keeping one of them in her line of sight. A fool’s notion, truly, as she was led straight into the cornfield with an undead in hot pursuit. Stringing obscenities in her wake, Renn attempted to push through the unforgiving stalks, tripping and getting snagged and breaking skin the entire way. Finally, with nothing left for it, she harnessed the life in the earth beneath her and sent it ricocheting backward, a powerful blast that was intended to set the zombie off her trail. However, a scream pulled her attention behind her, forcing her to pay witness to her mistake. A woman had been close behind her, following her, no doubt. All of a sudden, the gentle tugging and pulling at her clothes made sense; she’d just been trying to keep pace and not lose her. Renn took a step toward her but faltered; she had already been set upon, and there was nothing the witch could do for her now. Horrified and saddened, she could only spin around… And run headlong into another person. Renn let out a strangled noise, but otherwise kept her composure, heart beating a wicked pattern in her chest. “Come on,” she hissed, spinning the person around and giving them a rough shove to set them on their way, “we need to get out of here.”

[blackhccrt]

The absolute worst thing that could have happened... Happened. With a pack full of Wolves, vampires, and witches to boot, someone decides it's a good night to raise the dead. Literally. As soon as Tiber had smelled the awful odor of rotting flesh, he could feel every hair on his body stand to attention. The familiar feeling of aggression had begun to stir something within him, his pulse quickening as he sat his cup down and stepped forward. Protect them is the first instinct, any truth of emotion quick to vacate as he watches the first wave of undead come stumbling through the field. The screams ignite panic, and terror in the masses, and he's done everything he can to get as many people as possible out from the open and into hiding. It's difficult to tell by sense alone who is left outside with him as the overwhelming scent of blood and entrails burns his nostrils. He's got eyes on Caleb, heard from Cecily, but those are just two in a very long list of his concerns. Hundreds of years worth of shifting over and over again have helped to fine tune his ability for such an occasion. He's tearing through bodies at an alarming rate, caring very little about the faces these parasites wore as he tore them neck from shoulder. It's not long before Tiberius is covered in every shade of blood- from black, to red, and every shade of crimson in between. "What are you doing out here." He growled, his words much harsher than he may have intended, but Tiber hadn't allotted time for pleasantries. "Have you ingested any blood?" He'd demand, pulling at a young man to closer inspect his hands and his arms. "Every time one of these bodies falls, they're right back up ten minutes later. Like something straight out of a fucking Romero movie." With little consideration for how rough he was handling the guy, he spins him, yanking at his shirt to check the skin around his skin and his shoulders. "It's the bites... Or the scratches... I don't know. But I'm not sending you inside if there's any question." But there wouldn't be, as the moment the words leave his mouth a raggedy corpse bolted between them and tackled the young man to the ground.

[blackhccrt]

text: cecily -> tiber

Cecily: Are you fuckin

Cecily: Fuck you

Cecily: Don't be a hero okay?

Tiber: Make sure the statue they erect of me in the town square is anatomically correct.

Tiber: See you soon, grandma.

[blackhccrt]

text: cecily -> tiber

Cecily: Where are you??

Cecily: Are you okay?

Tiber: Can't really talk now cec I'm

Tiber: There are still people out here. Can't leave them. I'm with caleb so find gabe and STAY PUT. If you get yourself killed before we get you back to andover i'll kick your ass.

[blackhccrt]

talisademirci‌:

The interim mayor was right- Blackvale’s shoulders had grown heavy with Sweeny’s death. Mostly it was attributed to the lack of answers: Who did it? Why? What had happened that night? Talisa had never been close to the man beyond formalities, but those questions did bother her quite a bit. If there was something stalking around Blackvale, so powerful that it could create a mind-altering fog, it would certainly strike again. And while she didn’t mind chaos, the last thing she wanted was some unhinged thing hurting her witches. Showing up to the cornfield was beyond keeping appearances at this point. 

Dark hues fell on the alpha of the Loche pack, busying himself with a keg. In the storm of shifting power, it seemed they were the only two people to retain their positions. Poor Ayla Malraux had seen her end, and Louikos was god knew where. “Not really a beer drinker, Loche. But if you find anything stronger let me know.” With the wolves notorious for tempers and well, being a bunch of idiots, she wasn’t exactly surprised to see him here. Someone had to babysit the puppies to make sure the council’s rules were followed. “Think tonight will be as exciting as Sweeny’s birthday?” 

He'd recognize Talisa's voice anywhere, if only because she'd been one of the most adamant on the council. Tiber had sat beside her, or at the very least, near her, for as long as she had been regent. While he didn't always see eye to eye with opinion holders outside of his pack, the regent of the town's current coven managed to keep the reins on her witches pretty tight. There were bits and pieces of her methods which he'd admired. The strength in their numbers certainly couldn't go ignored, but power hungry enchanters had been swallowed whole by the council in the past. Talisa seemed patient where it mattered. Ruthless when it was important. Tiberius had seen his share of Regents come and gone, and wouldn't bet on her relinquishing her title any time soon. "Aye, she jokes. Who knew." He'd retort, filling the plastic cup considerably before he released the plastic hose. "'fraid the only thing being served tonight is barley & hops. Probably for the best." Bright hues flicker toward the mass of bodies moving into the field. People began to hoot and holler, no doubt smuggling in their own bottles of hooch despite the kegs. "If I'm being honest, my ideal night ends with everyone home and in bed before midnight." Tiber can't quite hide the look of utter irritation that sweeps his expression. "Think these people ought to know better by now than to gather the masses like this.”

[blackhccrt]

nixwilde‌:

Being new to the town meant a lot of things to Nixon, like the sense of adventure that came with figuring out just where the twisted supernatural influence began and end, but the biggest influence was figuring out the life his sister. It was odd to him that the girl who had been his best friend since the day she was born had this life he knew nothing about, almost as surreal as it was to know that she was gone. Almost as surreal as he now needed to play father. But that all that was more reason for him to come out tonight, to get a feel for this place that was now his home. What better way to start that than with a drink?

“I like the way you think”, Nix laughed, extending out an extra red cup in his direction. The wolf pumped the tap a few times before finally managing to fill up the other’s cup before his own. “Is it usual to offer to get people shit faced at these sort of things?”

Without recognizing the other man's face, the other oddities about him hadn't gone unnoticed. There's a distinctness to the way Tiber straightens up. He squares his shoulders just a little and stiffens slightly as he takes the red plastic cup. Cerulean pools watch closely as the beer begins to pour from the keg, and he nods along, head bobbing almost habitually. "Yeah. Yeah, it is." He doesn't bother trying to hide the fact that he gives the beverage a little sniff before he sips it. "I mean," Tiber continued once he'd taken a sufficient gulp, "We're out here gathered around a giant fire in a cornfield. The liquor just makes it easier to forget that we're trapped, I guess." And he smirks, knowingly, "Wouldn't you agree?"

[blackhccrt]

caleb-loche‌:

“I do so admire your sense of sarcasm.” Caleb murmurs with a grin. Caleb didn’t run as hot as the other wolves, not so distempered by time. The pain of a previous life tamed him, as if leashed to a pole - subdued by the haunting of those long since dead. In the end, even Tiber needed a babysitter, a constant level head. His younger brother was a good leader, he kept the pack in line when they needed it, and Caleb could sense the unease that his brother did over the wolves running free amidst booze, a bonfire, and the supernatural world.

“Have you seen Meredith?” The woman had been notoriously avoiding the good doctor, that much was certain. Maybe Caleb owed Tiber an explanation - maybe he owed Tiber many explanations, but those were for later dates, in private.

"Me? Sarcastic? It's like you don't know me at all." Tiber's hand finds the bridge of his brother's shoulder, fingers pressing into his flesh in a comaradic- albeit rougher than necessary- gesture. He's always glad when Caleb shows up. The man didn't need any official title to be one of the people that Tiberius trusted most in the world. They'd gone too long without each other; he had suffered through more than a century of grieving the loss of his big brother. If the eldest Loche did nothing more than assert his presence, Tiber would not complain. "I- have, actually." Oceanic pools sweep into slits, and he tightens his grip on Caleb's shoulder. "Why? You off to cause her more grief, you big ass?" The somberness of his expression melted away. Tiber cared just enough about the situation to insert himself by way of knowing... And that was the extent of his willingness to participate. Caleb was old enough to clean up his own messes. "Just don't piss her off too much. If she burns down my bar, I'm going to kick your ass."

[blackhccrt]

quinnloche‌:

Quinn has been slowly immersing herself back into Blackvale. People met, others found, she is slowly coming to learn what this place is all about. Moreover, she hopes to catch a glimpse of him. Rather, another. Her nerves, however, are on edge and almost impossible to calm. This is what brings her toward the keg, hoping to get her hands on a single drink if only to find some semblance of peace. She isn’t sure what it is, but every time she leaves home… Another beats her there, but not just any. Him. Quinn is dead in her tracks just an arms length away, her breath caught in her chest and chocolate hues wide. It is all she can do to pull up her hood, it only to hide her golden hair. Clearing her throat, she would lower her voice to a whisper in an attempt to hide, “Thank you.” No time is wasted as she grabs at a plastic cup, shaking hands made steady as she works at the keg and maneuvers her way out of that first bit of foam. All the while, she keeps her head down, praying that he walks away.

Tiber thinks nothing of the stranger as a small mass of bodies begins to move toward the keg. The bonfire had been ignited- as much was evident by the smell of lighter fluid and flame on the air- but it had yet to roar to life. Truly, they'd been at the very breach of the celebration, and that was just fine. Her words come as a whisper, and he's not pressed by them at all. They don't sound familiar. Nothing smells familiar or feels familiar. It's all just more of the same... Which was to say that it was another night of playing pretend to a mediocre degree. Out of the corner of his eye, he swears he sees a streak of golden hair. A slim hand on a cup. The tiniest whiff of honeysuckle and lavender... But he doesn't allow himself to turn and give chase to that dream. He can hear Caleb among the crowd, and he'd be wise to get at him before the night took off in full swing.

[meredithadley-blog]

Location: Harlan Johnson’s Cornfield.

Who: Everybody and then some.

The last thing that Meredith wanted to do was sit around with a bunch of community members she didn’t particularly know, trying to gather moral for the town in times of despair when (admittedly) she felt as though her life was going down the toilet. It wasn’t, at the end of the day — she still had a wonderful job and a roof over her head, food in her belly as well, but her relationship was trashed and for the time being that was enough for the woman to consider alcoholism as a permanent profession. It was with a heavy heart that the woman would walk onto the grass in front of her, breaking the barrier of contact between her and the event she had been invited too.

It was a plan to meet a couple of her friends but, alas, she had come alone and would have to go on the hunt for them at her own accord. Bitches, Meredith thought in a rather sarcastic way, knowing that the only one deserving of the word right now was her. Getting caught in her own tangled web of thoughts, the woman didn’t realize that she had run directly into another person, side swiping them with her vigorous walking.

“Oh, Christ. I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.” She spoke out loud, allowing her hands to find the person on their arms so that they wouldn’t completely wipe out. “Got stuck in my own head. My eyes froze over.” The woman allowed a soft smile to land on her lips, hoping that the person she had just plowed down wouldn’t rip her head off for her less than exhuberant exterior.

[blackhccrt]

He hated feeling like he was babysitting. It wasn't supposed to be like that at all, and despite Tiber's trust in his pack, and subsequently his family, he couldn't help feeling tense. The alcohol would help in short bursts- his metabolism burning through it at an alarming rate. But he'd grown use to that over the years, and had learned that he'd simply need to keep extra on him at all times. Despite the fact that it was dark, the alpha had little trouble seeing where he was going. It wasn't so much that he could see in the dark, but that he could feel his way. Sense the obstacles, and could almost feel the shift in the air with every tiny blade of grass had crushed beneath his boot. So he's not quite as surprised as Meredith when she comes crashing into him, and certainly would not grief her for not paying attention. "Mer." Tiber speaks her name, an attempt to garner her attention to no avail. "Mer." Once more he tries, this time using his own hands to find her shoulders and steady her. "Look, I might have to have a medal drawn up for hearing you apologize before swinging." A soft smirk presses at the corner of his mouth, "What the hell's got you upside down, anyway?"