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She'd left the Voodoo Room in a hurry, her vision blurred and her hands shaking from drinking too much. The ghosts had been worse these last few weeks, assaulting her with misery and sorrow. Even now she can see them flickering at the corner of her vision, closing in on her. Her breath stills in her chest and she closes her eyes, digging her palms into them and grinding. "Go away," she pleads, her voice a pitiful sound alone in the dark alley. She curls in on herself, leaning against the brick wall of an old building, a sign advertising it as a drug store. She could go inside and call someone, but it wouldn't change anything.

Who would she call, anyways?

With a grunt and a stumble, she shoves herself away from the wall and picks her way through the alley, her arms wrapping around herself to keep out the cold. She'd left her jacket in the Voodoo Room and her pale pink v-neck did little to keep the cold at bay. Thankfully, she'd worn blue jeans tonight, otherwise she might've been even worse off, despite the whiskey warming her blood.

She stumbles along in the dark for a long time, not quite sure where she's going, when the trace of a familiar scent floats in on a rogue breeze. A puzzled expression flits across her face and she frowns, turning towards the scent of equine, her brows knit together as she tries to place it. Her brain is muddled and it makes it hard to think, memories more like wispy clouds fluttering through her mind. She can't remember his name, but his face finally shapes itself into a memory from a night not much different than this, though on that night, she had left the bar with him.

Oh.

She follows the scent and it takes her longer than she'd hoped, struggling to keep it with each shift of the wind. Her human senses aren't as strong as her fox ones but she doesn't want to shift here and be left with nothing to change into so she powers through it, stopping occasionally to test the air.

Finally, she finds the source - a house - and a grin of self-satisfaction pulls at her mouth. She climbs the porch stairs and makes her way to the door, her excitement at having found him dulling her senses; she doesn't smell the other fox beneath the overwhelming scent of horse. With a trembling hand, she knocks on the door, the excitement slowly giving way to nerves. Would he even remember her? She'd only seen him the once, and that was.... Too long ago.

She almost thinks better of this whole idea; she would have, had the faint smell of fox not caught her attention.

Her spine stiffens and her eyes narrow, suspicion and a whole new wave of excitement taking root inside of her. Could it be...? No...

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