Cort sat in a booth, by himself, farthest from the door. It was the only one they had open. He was right next to the window and found himself staring outside at the people passing. His stomach was going crazy, however, because of all the smells mixing in the restaurant. Meat sizzling, more meat sizzling, some decaying meat out the back, and some more meat sizzling. It made the wolf hungry and him sick. He had a salad. More and more, Cort was rejecting meat when he was human. It happens when you wake up to find a shredded rabbit carcass in your shoes. And he couldn't blame the pet. Mostly because that had been one of the first things he'd found in his shoes. The front and back doors were open, too, as the air conditioning was broken and it was an uncomfortably hot, stuffy day. Different smells wafted in from the streets: birds, babies, cars, buses, trees, sky, glass, steel, and occasionally, dirt. The sun glared at him angrily, beating through the glass and accusing him. It was hot, but there was no where else to sit. Stupid lunch rush. He could feel his glasses slipping down his nose slowly. Stupid sweaty nose.

This all added up to a Cort staring out the window. He could almost block out the smells. He was lost in thought, every once in a while shoving a piece of lettuce in his face. He stared at nothing in particular. He wasn't really seeing anything. He was dressed in some jeans and, oddly for the temperature, a high collared blue and green striped shirt. It mostly hid the handprint seared onto his neck, but a few fingers could be seen waving at anyone looking closely at him.

Stupid... world.

"Cort!"

The cry that could be heard throughout the entire diner did not interupt the conversations happening everywhere, though in some it caused a lull in which the diners glanced at the source of the sound and then exchanged exasperated or surprised looks.

The source of the sound happened to Dacia. She'd just entered the diner and was appraising the table situation when her odd eyes landed on the pouty looking young man seated farthest from the door. Her face lit up almost as brightly as her clothes, and she practically bounded across the diner toward him (ignoring the waitress that was attempting to address her).

When she'd reached him, she hugged him around the head obtrusively before plunking into the seat opposite him and beaming.

Her hair was in a long, thick braid today and, surprisingly, its natural color. She wore a tie-dyed tank top and a long purple skirt. Purple ankle socks and black sandles adorned her feet. Chipped fingernail polish, green and sparkly, decorated the end of each finger. She had bracelets taking up three inches of her right arm, a rainbow-colored beaded necklace, and matching beaded earrings. Her lipstick was purple. All in all, it looked as if someone had forced a gypsy, a hippy, and a flourescent lightbulb into a blender, and Dacia was the end result.

"Hiya!" She proclaimed.

"Dacia, hi." Cort was jolted out of his musing (read: angst) by the loud cry and further by the hug.

Smoothing his hair down, Cort blinked at her. All those bright colors were being hit by the sunlight and positively glowing at him. They were no match for Dacia herself, though. He remembered to smile just a little too late.

"Hi," he said again. "How have you been?" He adjusted his glasses gone askew.

"Peachy! Finals suck. I've been doing crazy things like falling asleep on the library floor." Anyone who knows her will know that that's not too crazy, for her. Dacia can fall asleep anywhere.

"What's up with you? Still masquerading as a normal guy so no one knows your secret identity of Wolfman, Avenger of Restaurant Dumpsters and Killer of Small Woodland Creatures?" Her voice deepened as she said this, and you could practically hear the capitals, but it certainly doesn't get any quieter.

"Um. Something like that." Cort glanced around. No one seemed to be paying too much attention. No one smelled like they'd taken her seriously if they had. The adrenaline would have given them away.

"Finals, huh? What's that like?" cort was never very good at keeing a conversation going.

"It's like... finals." She nods sagely.

She's noted his glance around the restaurant and grins.

"Nobody noticed. I could even say "Cort is a werewolf' and it wouldn't matter. The innish don't care and the unnish'll just think I'm nuts. Which I'm okay with." And on that note, she reaches across the table and, without asking permission, plucks a leaf of lettuce from his dish and eats it.

"I... see." Good answer. He guessed.

He frowned and stabbed a piece of lettuce, staring at it rather than eating it. "You don't know that. I've met plenty of people who don't like werewolves. Prejudiced like." He looked thoughtful for a minute. "Although, come to think of it, most weren't into the best of dealings. I know, I could smell it. Maybe that's what they didn't like."

He gave a wry grin. "Maybe I could work for the police."

Dacia laughs out loud.

"You hate the police." She reminds him, still chuckling.

"And besides. Anyone who's prejudiced against werewolves doesn't count." Dacia looks around suddenly, searching for a waiter.

"What's it take to get some food in this place?"

"Patience?" he offered. "Besides, did you brush her off when you came in?"

Cort nodded, shrugging. "Yeah, but I guess it'd be better than nothing." He wrinkled his nose. "You don't think they'd make me wear a uniform, do you?" His eyes got wide. "Or a collar?"

"Did I?" She asks mildly, looking around for the waitress in question.

Dacia cocks her head at him and grins. "Yes, you'd probably have to wear a uniform. Unless you were constantly undercover. Or..." She gives him a wicked look. "Or the police dog."

Cort put a hand to his neck, shaking his head. "That's what I was afraid of."

Squinting at her, he said, "You really love your colors, don't you?"

Dacia looked at him in surprise.

"What colors?" She asks, her voice dripping innocence. But then she grins.

"You should wear more color. In fact," She gasps in excitement at the idea, "we should go shopping!"

Cort took refuge in poverty. "Sorry, no money." He gave an apologetic grin and shrugged. "Besides, I have plenty of color."

"Liar!" She shouts, drawing attention to herself from the nearby tables. She draws herself up and says regally, "One can never have enough color." But then she deflates. "Actually, my dad said he can't justify buying me any more clothes. And, um, they're kind of taking over my bedroom." She frowns at this difficult conundrum.

"Maybe run some bars from your ceiling?" He stabbed another piece of lettuce. "You know, turn your room itself into a closet?"

With a grin, he chewed halfheartedly on his lettuce. Those hamburgers smelled soooo good. "It'll be like a... a rainbow forest."

She laughs suddenly and loudly, as if this were the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

"That would be so cool!"

They are interrupted then by the waitress, who has finally deemed Dacia's presence worth noticing. She apologizes for the wait and then asks if Dacia would like a menu.

"Nope! I know what I want. A veggie burger and fries and a chocolate shake."

The waitress writes this down before turning to Cort and asking if he'd like anything else.

"No thanks," Cort says, grimacing once she turns away. "I can't really eat very much anymore. I never used to like vegetables." Truth be told, he still doesn't like vegetables.

"So do you still have the... hair thingie?"

"Yup." She grimaces herself before changing the subject back again.

"I can tell you just love vegetables now. You know, you could eat carbohydrates if you're trying to avoid meat. Not that I blame you for avoiding it. I would be too."

"Yeah, but you can only have so much bread and crackers before you get beyond sick of them. Fruits and vegetables have more variety." He wrinkles his nose again. "I haven't had meat in a few months. Well, aside from -- you know."

"I suppose they do." She says, but look dubious. "You should try my veggie burger. Have you ever had one?"

"No, I haven't. They seem like a crime against nature, almost." He pokes at his salad again. "Or a wolf in sheep's clothing." Pause. Frown. "Or something."

She grins brightly. "No, you're the wolf in sheep's clothing. Veggie burgers aren't so bad, they taste like meat."

Dacia's chocolate shake arrives then. The waitress tells her her food will just be a few minutes, and then retreats back into the kitchen, while Dacia slurps noisily on the shake until she's gone.

"Ick. That's the problem I'm trying to avoid you know. Tasting meat," he said after the waitress left.

Cort stared at Dacia, then deliberately took a sip of his water.

She shrugs carelessly. "Then is won't taste like meat. It probably won't to you, anyway, what with your," she wiggles her fingers in the air, searching for a phrase, "wolfy-senses."

She pushes the chocolate shake across the table toward him. "Want some?"