The Eternal Avenger

Chapter Two: Distraction

(Claray's POV)

The battle was over, the Avengers victorious. "Not without some help," I muttered to myself. I stood in the darkness of the city, examining the chaos left behind. The city was going to need an entirely new budget to clean up this wreck. I sighed, gathering my things before heading back in the general direction of my penthouse to see if it was still standing. I hoped so. I had some valuable shit in there. As I trudged through the nearly-empty streets, I kept feeling the hair on the back of my neck prickling, as if something - or someone - was watching me. It couldn't be one of those alien things - they had all dropped shortly after Tony - IRON MAN HIMSELF - had flown through the open portal, nearly dying in the attempt. I glanced around quickly, taking inventory. Even though all of my senses were heightened far more than an average human, the wreckage surrounding me was making focusing on a particular sight or smell far more difficult than it should have been. I skirted a corner swiftly, moving so fast that I barely felt my arm bang against a lamp post, sending my spiraling backwards, nearly out of control. I'm a hybrid, not a dancer or a gymnast. My wolf self was far-more agile, but large wolves do not typically roam the streets of New York City. Then again, neither did ugly ass alien creatures. I shrugged to myself, ignoring the tingling sensation in my hand that meant I had hit it harder than I initially thought. I needed to heal, soon, and there was only one way to do that. It's not like I could just wander into a clinic for medical attention. Doctors always wanted to run tests, do labs, take pictures. That simply wasn't something on my agenda for the day.

I glanced around, noticing the fallen corpses of a few of those alien thingies, nearly gagging in disgust. I didn't need to try it to know their blood would be disgusting, and there was no guarantee that it would have the healing properties that human blood did at all. I approached one anyway, not to drink but to explore. I swiped a couple of the cool looking knives that it carried, kicking the gun away out of reach, just in case. Before going any further, however, I heard shouting in the distance. The female voice sounded - alarmed. This was not post-attack fueled energy, this was something else. I cocked my head to the side slightly, allowing my ears to pick up any additional possible details. The shouting came again, words muffled but sounding a lot like "no." And they were close. I sighed. Couldn't a superhero or two have stayed behind to help clean up the mess? I chuckled under my breath. Of course not. All lights, flash, photographs, autographs. Sure, they just saved the world, but they left the cleanup to the rest of us. Knowing that the police were not likely to respond, I shook my head slightly and headed towards the direction the shouts came from. As I approached, the voice grew louder and far clearer. "No, stop" the woman said, "you don't have to do this." That was enough for me. I rounded the corner to an alley, standing just in the lingering building's shadow to remain out of sight while I assessed. I felt the prickling feelings again at the back of my neck and glanced quickly behind my shoulder again, seeing nothing but the growing darkness. I turned back to the alley, realizing quickly what was happening. Looters. The underbelly of this city never hesitated to take advantage of a crisis. The woman must work or own the store she was standing in front of, crossing her arms, confronting the thugs in front of her. Five of them. I had to admire her bravery, chuckling again softly to myself remembering the redhead from earlier. As two of the thugs attempted to walk away with a no-doubt costly television set while the three remaining 'gentlemen' formed a small semi-circle around the woman, blocking her access. If I got involved, at least there was a decent chance that I could feed enough to heal, at the very least, if not regain my strength. Draining one or more of these bastards would be no strain on my conscience.

"Hey there," I said lowly, moving finally out of the shadow and into the faintly glowing light of the shop sign. My presence startled everyone involved so much that two of the jokers almost dropped the television. The bigger guy - the one standing in the middle around the poor woman - sneered at me, taking the time to look me up and down from the top of my head, glancing carelessly at my blonde curls, taking stock of my form-fitting shirt, leggings and boots.