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- She walked out to the docks and sat of the very edge letting her feet hang off the side. As she looked up to the mood she slowly slid off her hood from her cloke -

- She whispered a cuple things to her self and sat up sharply thinking she herd something but she realized it was nothing. Looking back up at the sky she rememberd a sad memory and whiped a tear from her eye -

A large 2001 ford pickup pulls up into a parking lot along the waterfront. It has what appears to be a large grill made from an old oil drum bolted into the back against the cab just after the light rack. The truck screams redneck in every language the world has ever known. After the engine dies down the door opens and a man emerges wearing a button down shirt with the sleeves cut off at the shoulder, a pair of mechanics jeans, black leather cowboy hat and boots. he hums a few bars of a country song as he mossies over to the back end of his truck, reches in and rumages through a cooler. He comes out with a glass bottle of guiness, uses a Gerber Multi-tool he has strapped to his thick black leather belt to pry the top off then takes a long swig. He wanders over to the pier and gazes out at the harbor adn all the cargo ships docked along the waterfront. He stands there breathing deep and humming a Toby Keith song to himself.

Bill looks over his shoulder and turns, a small smile on his face. he tips his hat up with a single finger "nosir i aint seen a single fella come through here since ah been. but ifn i see anyone ah'll surely holler at ya" he tips his hat and goes back to watchin the sea with a happy sigh of contentment

he turns looking at the man quizzikly "nosir i surely dont, ah aint left no notes anywhere herebouts anyway. you reckon the feller what left it came here?"

"hmmmmm..,." he scratches at his beard and appears to be thinkin real hard. "odd or abby-normal deaths....nosir, dont reckon i know about that sorta thing. 'm a sailor and a cook by trade ma'self..bit of a wanderer ya might say. i sappose tho, if'n you was interested in that sorta thing...well i guess a morgue might be the place ta look, although from my experience you wanna know whats goin on in a place you talk to the folks what live 'ere. i reckon ya'll out check the bars and nightclubs about. might even be you find some stuff there abouts..." he smiles and tips his hat to him politly "well, fine day ta ya ser, take care now, y'hear" and with that he climbs up on the hood of his truck and leans back on the windshield, tilts his hat down over his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Ok then, well…” Tyrin paused as the smell of blood filled the air, he noticed an odd woman walk by, as she moved farther away the smell of blood faded. Tyrin looked over and raised a brow, he learned from his Uncle that if you smell blood, then a vampire is near by, he was weary but this person he thought was a vampire, wasn’t causing any trouble. He looked back the sailor he had been talking to “Well thank you sir, you have a good then” he turn and began walking off, a metal ping could be heard as his feet hit the ground.