Eternity is getting the better of him, he thinks. His bitterness is surprising, how little he cares, though not entirely if you knew his story. Marcelo is exhausted, so long running from his wanderlust inherited from his father, running in circles so he always ends up back in the same place. Marcelo has lost track of time through the half of a millennium he has lived through, but he can still remember those words that had blown a gaping, ragged, bleeding, hole straight through his chest. But still, he had eternity while others had so little. He should complain, and yet at this time every year he felt the weight of his immortality more than any other time, but this too would pass.

Everything always did.

The sun is setting. The brandished gold haired boy can see the sky darkening from the window of his hotel room. Umber gaze sweeps over the emptying of the streets in that stagnant lull between the time when all the day goers maneuver about their business and the night crawlers will make their appearance only when the sun dips entirely below its endless horizon. He runs a hand through brandished gold locks before allowing the curtain to swing close, blocking what little light had been coming in. The brandished gold stranger was preparing to hunt down another pack, though this one, while there was rumors of them, they seemed to be a bit more elusive in finding a way to meet them. But he had heard that Frost hung out down by the stables, so the dirty blond would have to check out for himself. And so messy tawny hair and all, Marcelo slips into a simple grey t shirt and black skinny jeans as bare feet slide into white vans. He wouldn't need a jacket, the were with locks of golden brown had the advantage of his species when it came to regulating body temperature. Dark gaze turns towards the door as he runs a hand through bronzed hair to purposefully messy them, a habit he doesn't even seem to think about anymore.

A wry smirk sets over his face as he watches everyone moving about their day, or evening rather. It feels different tonight. The air is colder and crisp, it bites instead of caresses. Dark eyes blink against the wind and he feels the cool air against his teeth sending a chill through his entire body. But it would seem that he cannot let that easy grin slide from his face, even despite the frostbite to his teeth. Those deep brown eyes hold a joke he doesn't tell anyone within them. How funny it would seem to be the weather would take such a turn, it only seemed fitting then that the umber eyed were would be visiting the wereHorse named Frost on a cold autumn night such as this.

As he moves through the street, he side steps passerbys who seemed far too busy to notice the jackal with that bright boyish smile. The boy with brandished gold hair though of course manages to catch the eyes of a girl or too, one who reluctantly seemed to be following her family either to or from dinner, and another that was waiting outside a club, probably with her fake ID in hand. And normally, Marcelo would be the first to join her this evening, bargaining his way in to party and drink till he couldn't remember his own name, but his plans were entirely booked for the evening, for the jackal did not assume it would be just a simple chat with Frost. But Marcelo thought that it was time to join a pack, and the dirty blonde wanted to know all of his options.

More and more trees appear before his dark eyes as he gradually moves into the southern area of town and the jackal within him is enjoying the nature, no matter how much that other half of him longs for the heat of the Savannah. With a smirk he turns in the direction of the stables, and finally the crowd begins to thin out. He smiles because Marcelo knows what he was about to do.

You didn't expect him to meet the Horse as a human now did you?

He shifts into that jackal form, the ghost of a smirk still resting on his now canine face as dark eyes turn golden. Moonshine drifts over the treetops in spider webs of light ethereal and tangible at the same time, as those amber eyes shine in the night. He halts his running only when he has reached the stables. Amber eyes peer around before he calls out for the Horse. "Frost, are you here?" Well, there was really only one way to find out. Black nose reacts towards the sky, twitching in an attempt to catch the scent of equine, ready to meet the infamous pack leader. Come and meet the thieving jackal, Frost.