Well my stay in Las Vegas, Nevada fell short of my expectations. I had almost hoped the Coven in Laughlin would catch my scent and visit me by night. But they did not. Even on my drive to the Valley of Fire I did not catch their scent. I have to wonder if they left for greener pastures. I can hardly blame them. Being in Nevada is like being night crawler. You hide fearfully from the sun, and the air is so warm that even I felt it. Of course all this is beside the point.
The side trip in Vegas has two maps. The first was to blow enough money that the various banks across the world that my sisters and I have put our accumulated money, would be less than concerned about the accounts’ lack of use. The second was of course to show up mister “fearless” magician. It makes me chuckle to think that all it took to get him all jumpy was one little growl.
Hunting is Vegas, while easy, is far from fun, you’re stuck with one of two flavors, drunk, or diseased. Not the healthiest of meals, if you catch my meaning. I knew I had to feed enough to keep full until I leave Washington, I just couldn’t bear the thought of eating too much around there. It became obvious as the sun began to set, that I needed desperately to stop in Portland to hunt. So I did.
The weather was conducive enough once I reached the pit of a city. Something about Portland has always seemed so black and white. Like a photograph, just not… real, I’ve never cared for it. I meandered the streets for a few hours sniffing here and there for something small and appealing.
Suddenly I was accosted by a smell so delicious, I felt as if I had walked right into a fire. I followed the scent down a winding road, behind some buildings, and back out onto the road. I began to notice the light changing, the clouds were shifting. I kept tabs on the direction of the scent, but everything began to fade after a few hours.
Once the sun had once again been absconded by the clouds I continued my hunt, the aroma wafted at me, less potent than it had been from down a suburban housing tract, I followed until it was gone. The human vanished. I assumed he has just jumped into a friend’s car. I wonder why he took such a circuitous path, then all my wondering thoughts abruptly turned to an anger, the likes of which I don’t think I’ve ever felt in my entire existence! I growled for a running 5 minutes before I even took a breath to access my next move. My prey was gone but I couldn’t simply give up! I promised Jacob that I would not hunt at all while I was in the state of Washington. I keep my promises.
Angrily I walked down the streets, not finding any one scent preferential after all of that. I knew I just had to buckle down and pick someone. I walked down a long dark alley, pausing only momentarily to glance at the name of a skeezy bar. ”BoozeHoundz” Not very original. I walked to the main street and spotted a young man, maybe 23 or 24 years old. Of course he was oggling at me. I figured he was better than nothing. I think I was quite… “smoothe”
”Excuse me, my brother is at some bar around here, I simply cannot find it, could you help my find the BoozeHoundz Bar?” And of course he was only too willing to help. He led me down the dark alley, the wrong, dark alley mind you. It could not have been more perfect. I’ll admit I felt bad, he was so kind, asking me where I was from, what I was doing in Portland, just being a nice guy. But a girl’s gotta eat. And so I did.
I only post this so Jacob and Sam will believe that I’m fed well enough to keep the peace as I promised. I know if might disgust them and they won’t look at me as they saw me before. But even I have to survive somehow.
∆Senna∆
