Raised as the sort of equivalent of a British monarchies spare, Peter was used to being in the shadows of things. When his sister had born three children for the line, her own heir and a spare, he had found himself as much feeling extraneous as he did restless for something else, something more.
He hadn't given any warning, just leaving a note that he'd be back eventually. He'd weighted it down with his phone, just to make it clear he wouldn't be followed.
He'd bounced around a bit, both out of curiosity and to make his trail harder to follow but eventually he'd ended up in Rome. Rome was home to so many families of wolves they were legendary as the short of dire wolves that haunted the countryside and therefor maintained their privacy for the packs.
So he wandered the streets surrounding the Vatican, narrow stoneways and open waterways and while his Italian wasn't great, it got him by.
He wasn't even paying attention that evening, happy on wine and good food and just being free for a time when a woman suddenly stopped in his path. Older with a kerchief protecting her hair. She crossed herself, and then made a gesture towards him, spitting in his path.
"Lupo," she growled, eyes narrowed.
He sighs, rolling his eyes as he holds up his wrist where there's an expensive bracelet with an evil eye charm on it.
"Nice try, Strega, but we have our own of your kind."
She sneered, spitting this time on his shoes before walking away. They were italian leather by the look of them.
"Are you kidding?! I just bought these," he called after her, moving to the outside tables of a nearby cafe for some napkins to clean them up.
Before the fire? A long time ago? Maybe. Who knows. Sort of in that timeframe
He hadn't given any warning, just leaving a note that he'd be back eventually. He'd weighted it down with his phone, just to make it clear he wouldn't be followed.
He'd bounced around a bit, both out of curiosity and to make his trail harder to follow but eventually he'd ended up in Rome. Rome was home to so many families of wolves they were legendary as the short of dire wolves that haunted the countryside and therefor maintained their privacy for the packs.
So he wandered the streets surrounding the Vatican, narrow stoneways and open waterways and while his Italian wasn't great, it got him by.
He wasn't even paying attention that evening, happy on wine and good food and just being free for a time when a woman suddenly stopped in his path. Older with a kerchief protecting her hair. She crossed herself, and then made a gesture towards him, spitting in his path.
"Lupo," she growled, eyes narrowed.
He sighs, rolling his eyes as he holds up his wrist where there's an expensive bracelet with an evil eye charm on it.
"Nice try, Strega, but we have our own of your kind."
She sneered, spitting this time on his shoes before walking away. They were italian leather by the look of them.
"Are you kidding?! I just bought these," he called after her, moving to the outside tables of a nearby cafe for some napkins to clean them up.