There wasn't any particular reason for Adder to be there, especially going by what was running through his head. Denials, vague diversions, insistence on idle curiosity and other things. There was even less reason for him to stay there once he saw that salt softy wasn't there. It wasn't like he had gone looking for her. If he wanted to find her, he'd just find and follow her scent. Besides, she liked his wolf form more than this one, and he had a lowkey headache. Shifting would make it worse.

The headache almost certainly had something to do with the healing burns in his mouth.  Mouth pain was in his head, after all, and hard to separate himself from. It was easier to ignore the bruises, even if they stretched and twisted when he moved. At any rate, he was alive and would continue to be so. He'd just added that guy to the list headed by Aura. In some ways, he was actually a higher risk. He'd shown his intent to injure and kill Adder in particular, while Aura was just a murdering lunatic.

Yeah, that guy could go above Aura on the danger list. Best to stay put here for as long as he could stand it.

He dropped unceremoniously onto an empty couch, tucking his toes into the seam between the cushions and the arm, and sighed heavily.  He hated cooping himself up, but what was he supposed to do?  Go out and get hurt more?  Go out and get set on fire?  Fire was lethal.  He didn't need more proof of that.

He was drunk again and judging by the light outside it had to be in the afternoon or morning. Sam yawned into a coffee mug that was more whiskey than coffee and he slowly walked towards the kitchen to get a refill on the coffee part. Another sleepless night had caused him to sit at his desk and pretend to do new resident paperwork. He stared at the same sheet for three hours wondering how much time passed before he decided to get up and get some more coffee. It was nighttime when he entered his office and now it was light.

Once his cup was topped off with some coffee he walked back to his office till something else caught his attention and required to keep it. At that moment he passed by the living room and spotted a kid sulking on the couch. ”You there… kid what time is it?” Sam rubbed some of the tiredness from his eye then asked again, ”Why do you look like someone just kicked your dog?”

Noise, and wafting intermingled scents. Adder nearly gagged on the coffee and alcohol, but it was the voice that really got his back up and had him turning around to snap.

"I'm not a dog," he snarled. Never mind that that wasn't actually what the guy had said. He smelled of booze enough that he probably wouldn't even notice. And why the hell did he expect Adder to know what time it was? It was a while away from either gaining or losing daylight. He wasn't planning any light-specific stuff. He didn't care about the time.

He also didn't have anything resembling a clock to his name, so how the hell would he know what time it was even if he did care?

"Why are you even pretending you aren't just getting drunk?" he continued, jutting his chin at the reeking mug and doing his best to push the conversation away.

”…. I don’t think I am either but, you hear it enough times it must be true right?” Sam walked into the doorway a bit more and leaned against the frame. The kid had an attitude, which Sam understood. Sam had an attitude as well.

”Who said I wasn’t pretending?” Sam asked curiously as he smirked into the mug. ”Got some nose on ya if you can smell it. Or I need to shower…” Sam asked as he sniffed himself in a mock gesture.

”I’m a functional drunk.” Sam said as he took another sip. Not letting the kid get to him. ”Why are you so confrontational?” another sip. ”Must not be easy to talk to people or make friends.”

First attempt to repel: complete and utter failure. Drunks were unpredictable and harder to deal with, especially the ones that inexplicably wanted to talk.

"Wolves aren't dogs," he muttered below his breath. Arguing with drunks on points like that never seemed to go anywhere. Then, louder: "I'd be able to smell your brand of shampoo if you had showered this week." Maybe the snark there would be blunt enough for mr 'functional drunk.'

"I'm not trying to make friends." Never mind that he wouldn't know how to go about it even if he did care or wanted to try. He was just here to stay alive. That whole thing where, as long as he was alive, he could continue to be alive. That was all that really mattered in the end. Being alive. Not dying.

”So they aren’t all part of the same biological family of Canidae?” Sam asked as he sipped into his mug tasting the mixture of cheap whiskey and coffee. ” I can read lips and hear pretty well.” Sam added before he continued ”Never said wolves are dogs. Just said that I have been called a dog… Guess you could say I have been called a wolf before as well.” he did like to go hunting in the Canadian wilderness and he had a habit to go ‘Lone Wolf’ but the kid probably didn’t know about that.

”Well what is it?” it was Irish Springs he mocked a smell of his armpit ”I showered… what day is it?” he asked himself smirking as he tried to recount. It had to be within the last two days. The only time he went long without a shower was when he was hunting or camping.

”Why not?” Sam asked curiously, ”Great place to do it.”

Biological family of whatidae? Adder had no way of knowing if this guy was making up words or just talking about something that required Education. Technically it could be both. Adder didn't really care. He cared that it felt like the drunk was making fun of him, and he was getting an additional headache from the alcohol fumes even over here, and he hurt and he was stuck here and he was rather close to outright hating it all.

"Dogs are closer to wolves than you are to either," he muttered. "Maybe a Chihuahua. They're pretty annoying and not really even dogs." And when they got lost, they tasted decent. Not much meat on them, but it was better than rats. As long as he beat the cats to it - even a half grown street cat could take a Chihuahua without a problem.

Definitely annoying like a Chihuahua. Or a wiener dog. Yammering like he had something useful to say and totally missing the point. Did he really think that Adder knew the names of shampoo brands? Why the hell would he know something that useless? The skin of his mouth reverberated, a little bit painfully, with the growl trying to escape his clenched teeth. "Bring me a bottle of it and I'll tell you if it's the same. Smells don't come with labels." Chihuahua. Drunk Chihuahua. Heh.

”So if I’m a Chihuahua, what would that make you? I mean…” Sam mocked measuring his height then held his hand out trying to guess how tall Adder was. It was shorter but Sam over exaggerated to annoy the kid further.

”Not worth…” Sam pointed to his mouth then gestured to the kid. ”What happened here?” Sam asked curiously wondering if the kid was going to share.

What did it make him? Adder snorted and rolled off the couch, landing on four furred paws. He took a step towards the drunkard, tail slightly raised and very still. This was what it made him. Overall size matter less than things like teeth. Even teeth surrounded by blisters.

And then he turned back and hopped onto the couch again, shifting as he did but keeping his face turned away when his landing pulled at his bruises unpleasantly.

"I bit a fire mutant trying to kill me," he said flatly. "I hope he has lots of mirrors around."

”Well that was dumb.” Sam said with an eye roll. ”were his name hot hands?” Sam asked curiously. Sam hopped it was hot hands. The guy was a $$$$ and deserved to be bit however Sam doubted the kid enjoyed getting burned. ”You know we have a healer here right?” Sam said nonchalantly like it was know there was a full time healer in the mansion. Because it was.

”Mirrors? So I take it you won that run in?” Sam asked trying hard not to smirk. Sam felt like egging the kid on especially now that he was on all fours trying to show how tough he was. Bruno his large cuddly Saint Bernard was scarier in his mind. ”So why was he trying to kill you?” Sam asked curiously finding this far more interesting than paperwork.

"Like I know his name," Adder growled. "You really think I stopped to chat or something?"

Useless weird drunk Chihuahua.

....

saywhat

Full stop, no turning corners to the next conversation. He ran his tongue over the slowly healing blisters around his teeth. They would have been worse without that taser nurse's aloe, but they still bothered him.

No, drunk Chihuahua was probably just messing with him. He wasn't going to accept anything from him. What had he just said? Adder could hear it just fine, he'd just been distracted, but now he had to catch up to it to hide that distraction - if there was a healer around, there were other people he'd poke about it. Not this guy.

Why was whatsisface trying to kill him? "Beats me," he muttered. "I went around a corner and he immediately tried to choke me." Adder vaguely remembered that it had been the same guy he'd nicked meat from at one point, but the span between the events was part of a very hazy timeline.

”Well, if someone is trying to kill you I usually like to find out why and what their name is.” Sam said looking at the kid as if he was dumb as a box of rocks. ”Why are you chasing me. What did I do to you? Etc. Etc.” Sam said waving his hand to try and spell it out for him.

Sam raised an eyebrow. ”So there is a guy, I’m guessing hot hands. Because it sounds like something that dumb@@@@ would do, walking around and choking people as they round corners for no reason.” Sam started to laugh and shook his head, ”Beats me.” Sam smirked some more, ”Sounds like a job for the police. A crazy fire hand guy is on the loose!” Sam said trying to goad Adder some more.

Adder tilted his head a bit. "I know what he smells like. Why would I need his name?" It didn't make any sense at all. Besides, there hadn't been any chance at all to ask even if he'd been inclined. Either the guy was trying to crush his throat or Adder was trying to breathe through a partially crushed throat. Neither worked for chatter. At least that had been the quickest part of him to heal.

"More like hot face," Adder muttered. "He wouldn't need a mirror to see what I did if I bit his hand. You might need to drink less though."

What did police have to do with anything? They hadn't helped. Mostly they just yelled at him anyway, told him to go away or stop doing whatever he was doing or that they thought he was 'trespassing' or whatever but that happened in really different places so he didn't think he'd actually been passing tresses in all of them, whatever tresses might be.

Sam leaned forward and shrugged, ”Might give the police something to go on.” Sam said not bothering to mention he was a sorta cop. The kid didn’t like him already probably like him less if he found out he was a cop. Sam would like him less and he was a cop.

”Huh?” Sam asked to him about his comment about the face. ”You found him attractive?” the next comment caused him to look at his coffee then sip it. ”Maybe, you should drink less.” Sam shrugged. ”or maybe I should drink more.” Sam asked as he leaned back up on the wall still smirking.

”How old are you kid?”

Adder simply blinked slowly. He'd used cops as a distraction before, but they always seemed just as likely to try to capture him as whoever he needed a distraction from. When he'd been younger it had been with sweet tones, soothing and luring and trying to hide the danger. As he grew older, their true colours came out and they openly treated him as a threat. Not even someone to get out of the city, just something to deal with.

He might lump police officers and animal control together a bit too much, but if they couldn't tell the difference between a shifter and an all-the-time animal then he might as well leave them there. He'd had both of them on his tail before. Including at the same time...

Huh? "Attractive? No, I mean his face was hot. It burnt me." A lot of Adder's restless aggression was replaced with honest confusion. He'd said what he meant. What was the drunk chihuahua even talking about now? He made about as much sense as, well, a drunk chihuahua. At least he was less squeaky. "Why would I drink something that reeks and makes people stupid and vulnerable?" he asked, cocking his head. "You've already had more than enough for the stupid part."

And why would he want to know how old he was? Adder bristled and tucked his feet under himself again. "Why do you care? he asked, honestly just as serious in the question as he was using it to push back against the drunk chihuahua. And to give himself time to think. Age. He'd figured out the year he was born for Cafas' stupid paperwork. Nineteeeennnnn ninety.... er. Seven! Ninety seven. And this year. That was harder. He didn't really keep track. Two thousand something with a one. Not two thousand and one. Two thousand one... six. So three plus sixteen? Except he was born late in the year so... maybe eighteen?

Not that he felt like giving the worked-out answer to the drunk chihuahua.