Day 44; Video 001

[bostonhowler]

[She is disoriented. The odors here are so different and she can’t find the smells of the pack. Her fingers flutter nervously, pushing escaped tendrils of bright red hair out of her face.

She looks almost panicked and on the edge of tears. Brown eyes lock on the bracelet thing around her wrist. Brigid bites her lower lip.]

I don’t want a house. I have one. I don’t need another one. I’m staying with my aunt and uncle. Mark and Anne Hannigan, from Cambridge. Can someone please direct me to the nearest bus station?

[She swallows and turns away. Her brown eyes find the feed again. They shine with unshed tears. Her curly red hair flutters around her face. One blunt-nailed hand rises and brushes tendrils back behind her ear. Brigid isn’t wearing makeup and is drowned in a bomber jacket with several military patches on it. Her eyes flicker out over the area around the fountain.

She nearly curls in on herself.]

Can anyone hear me? I need to get home. Please. If you can tell me how to get home… I’d appreciate it.

Comments

[hung_garian]

You don't. Sorry sweetheart, but if we knew how we wouldn't still be here.

[bostonhowler]

[She swallows hard and looks down. The good Catholic girl just wants to go home.]

Where is here? I can tell it's not Chesapeake or Nantucket.

[hung_garian]

Cape Kore. Don't know if that means anything to you - doesn't to the rest of us, far as I know.

[bostonhowler]

No. I've never heard of such a place.

[she slumps on the fountain.]

My name is Brigid.

[hung_garian]

Well, Brigid, consider this an opportunity to get well and truly acquainted with it.

[bostonhowler]

Are we anywhere near Boston? I can find my way back if we are. It won't be hard.

[Yes, she's clinging to hope.]

[hung_garian]

I don't know where we are, but trust me, if getting out was that easy, the rest of us wouldn't still be here.

[bostonhowler]

I... I don't understand. Who is doing this? What is doing this? I'm just a college student.

[And a werewolf.]

[hung_garian]

Both very good questions. If you find out the answer to either of them, let me know.

[bostonhowler]

[She clears her throat. She lowers her eyes, because he might be annoyed, and she's in enough trouble.]

Thank you, sir, for the answers. I'm sorry, I don't know your name.

[hung_garian]

That's alright. I'd be more bothered if you did, since I haven't told you.

[And as for the answers, he's amused she thinks he's really given her any - besides the name of the town, which she probably already knew.]

[bostonhowler]

[She fidgets a bit, jostling the camera.]

May I have your name?

[hung_garian]

Why? What's wrong with yours?

[bostonhowler]

[She sighs. She hates jokes like that.]

Nothing. I was just wondering what yours was, that's all.

[She's tired. And she's not a Saint, despite her name.]

[hung_garian]

It's Loki. Howdy.

[bostonhowler]

[Cue really confused history geek look.]

Did your parents enjoy Norse Mythology?

[hung_garian]

Not really.

[bostonhowler]

Oh. Okay.

[She figures it's a family name and says nothing more about it.]

It was nice speaking to you, Mr. Loki. Again, thank you, for your help.