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[bitingmybullet]

It has been a long, long day. Between stringing up the wire-glass-and-assorted-sharp-things barrier outside the window, getting the blood hooked up to the tap, finding out Les is living with freaking Claire of all people

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[rebelw_outclaws]

There's a dopplering growl of a motor outside, which slows and stops in front of the Wasteland.

[bitingmybullet]

Gwen stiffens.

Not too many people have motorcycles these days, in Chicago.

Her eyes turn sharply to the door.

[rebelw_outclaws]

After an entrance like that, you'd almost expect clomping boots. Instead, there are very quiet footsteps up to the door, a pause.

The door opens, bringing in the scent of the street, motor oil, sweat, wolf, man.

Russ doesn't come in any further than the threshold. Not yet.

[bitingmybullet]

She exhales softly, the scents and sounds drifting across the room. He's here, and even though he's respecting her space he's still him: Alpha.

"Evening."