Alternatively

Ubiquitous (ii.)

He crouched lower to the ground, snuffling through the underbrush. It was a distinct scent, werewolf blood. Loaded with iron, it was bright to his nose against the background pads of forest. The trail was old, about two days aged, but the lead was big enough to get him going on the case. It was dangerous sniffing about in the daylight, and so close to the city as well. But his senses were dimmed out of transformation, so he just had to lay as low as he could.

A rabbit shot by, his ears twitching in response to the skittering leaves.

Stay focused.

I've been tracking forever, Percy whined, pawing at the dirt. I'm tired.

Get real, Perce, it's only been three hours.

He grumbled, sitting back on his haunches and watching cars zoom by on the road just a few yards away. The trail lead down the hill, presumably into town. If one of Kronos's new recruits was on the run, of course the instinctual route would be through the familiar bustle of civilization. Additionally, if the fresh were had been relying on instinct, they would be twice as likely to do something incredibly stupid while transformed. His chances of gleaning information from the poor guy were completely reliant on the fact the were would back themselves into a corner for Percy to easily find.

I've got this location marked, get your stuff.

Bossy, Percy griped, all the same picking himself up and high tailing it through the trees to where he had settled his change of clothes.

What he wouldn't give to be a magic user. Like Rachel or Piper or Leo. Even Frank had it better in the fact that he was a shifter. He didn't have to worry about carrying sets of clothes everywhere or stripping down in order to shift and preserve your favorite pair of jeans. Percy had destroyed many closets worth of clothes since learning to control his transformations. His mom was practically living in the store, bringing home new outfits only to have them destroyed whenever Percy got excited or angry. It was extremely inconvenient, forcing him to lug around extra clothes when he tracked in the day. He often stashed them in bushes in the forest, not daring to dash into a neighborhood.

He did a quick scan of the area before willing the change to occur. His bones cracked and his muscles tore in a brief flash of white pain, the hot feeling too familiar to be uncomfortable. The absence of fur was hardly missed, the warmth of the change lingering long after he dressed.

Clarisse's squadron is moving in on the east pack.

Percy shouldered through the trees, figuring it would be less conspicuous if he came into town via sidewalk than emerging from the woods. Good for her.

She wanted me to tell you.

Figured.

She was an alpha and always in constant competition with Percy. They had met when they were both twelve and in training. As two of the only werewolves in the system at the time, they were forced into the same classes in hopes they would get along. The opposite occurred, animosity sparked between the two and steeped into a nice aversion. Things improved when they got older and began working together, but it wasn't as if they could be on too friendly of terms.

She also wanted to tell you to suck it.

Her sweet talk is comforting, he snorted, looking off to the city starting to peek over the hill.

He liked the look of San Fransisco and from what he was able to experience, it was a relaxed and beautiful city. It was like looking into a postcard or someone's wanderlust blog. Real pretty. He was partial to the shining skyscrapers and bustle of New York, but it wasn't hard to appreciate the aesthetics of his location. The hills and the trolleys and the cafes, they were all unique to the area and created a scene like you'd see in the movie. He was admiring a store front when instinct drew his gaze across the street.