Investigations [Crow, Open]

[GREY]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] Like any good spy, he hit the streets, trawling for the information that was so vital to his livelyhood. Listening to idle gossip, learning of the packs. He was on the more shifty part of town, but to him all parts of town were shifty. He could still remember the scent of homeless and druggies riding the subways, the sick and dying still had a lingering affect on the place's air. So too did the car exhaust and asphalt. This lane wasn't going to smell pretty and look gorgeous in the sunshine any time soon. It was a down right pit. But it was in slums like this that he and his ex-pack had made the best living begging besides the subway, the poor often strangely more generous than the rich who were more likely to shoot roving dogs trekking into their home. The homeless were often quite willing to snuggle up in the rain for warmth with a strange, mangy looking puppy and share their trash. It had been kind of a way of life, really, noble in its own way, as at least they were free. But everything had changed, and now there was no more free lunch. The brindle coydog was working for a different sort of pack now, working hard to make a living, ever cautiously watching for enemies. Willing to do anything to survive another day. Even if it meant going straight into danger. Paranoid trusted no one, his pack included. So spying for him was not a drastic change, merely offering up more information than other more moral dogs would have. Currently, he was keeping track on rumors of a north and south divide in power, without actually crossing over into either territory yet, waiting for an in that didn't involve trespassing into possibly militant packs. There had been word of another, but he'd looked and found nothing to the east. Now he was hanging out in the middle of town. Forging connections with other strays like himself. Looking for a possible connection in to one of those other packs, and making himself smell as much like a loner as possible. It seemed to have worked. Too well, actually. He didn't think the smell of asphalt would ever wash from his fur. The black and brown half coyote slipped into the shadows of an alley as the night grew dim, and settled into a twilight reddish-blue glow. No one ever minded an eavesdropper who seemed to be sleeping or minding his own business, or better yet, hadn't even been spotted by them. He didn't think he'd trust the land enough to actually go to sleep tonight, though he was still searching for a hiding place. Maybe in this alley? He eyed behind the dumpster. No more garbage trucks doing runs, so even in the dumpster was a possibility... but what if some enemy, he thought irrationally, was hiding inside just in case he had that same idea ready to pounce? No, no, the dumpster wouldn't do at all. That building? Might just be dark enough, and that bottom window was open. He'd move in slowly, just in case there was danger. First, thought, he cast a glance around the alley to see if he was being watched. Then up at the sky. Then at a funny looking crack. Never could be too careful.