[First it's the paw prints- wide but not overly large, they're deep enough in Etraya's meager snow to not be covered up the same day. They don't pad around the perimeter of Wayne Tower. That would be obvious.
They're scattered around the places Batman's scent might linger: a hidden corner where it's best to observe the coming and going of the trolley, or where the air currents of the encapsulated city waft the odor of shed skin cells and armor from the building's own HVAC. Sometimes Tim forgets just how good the wolf's senses are. He can easily pick apart Bruce's routine patrols from the others'.
(He's a young, scrawny, coarse-haired thing.)
Some days later, he figures it's time: if he's not being watched yet, he should be; he hasn't trailed anyone else in this state. The wolf's head is low as he stalks to the usual haunt, ears on a swivel.
He fully expects to be hunted just as he'd been hunting. For answers, for satisfaction. For something.
And the moment he senses it, the eyes of Batman or Bruce Wayne-- Tim sprints away.
Catch him if you can, or suffer with not knowing what goes bump in the night in the quiet of Etraya.]
( it's batman. it's always batman because... bruce wayne? not really much of a thing, much to alfred's dismay. but he'd been aware of a supposed visitor in the area β of someone or something trailing after him and after deducing the culprit not being one of the birds here, and without a doubt not his older counterpart, he decides to take matters into his own hands, especially with what had happened to jason recently.
the engine of the younger looking batmobile growls in the dark of the night and the blue light from within crackles across both the hood and the rear of the vehicle. he wastes no time in taking off β in pushing the stick forward and forcing it to go as he takes after the creature sprinting off.
because he's been here for almost two years now and he knows the wildlife and lack of it here. this wolf is not part of it. )
[An oversight, and he's sure it's one of many to come: ears perk up and forward at the thunder when Tim hadn't expected a storm. The Batmobile. --a Batmobile. One that even in this body, Tim has to huff out an exclamation to admire.
And so, the scene: the wolf has planted his hind legs in the icy road to pivot to bark at what's barreling towards him. He can't outrun a machine. But there's an alley to his left, and there his four legs will carry him faster than Batman's two.
Batman wouldn't run over a puppy.
(But what tricks this car has up its metal sleeves is a mystery.)]
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aaand action
They're scattered around the places Batman's scent might linger: a hidden corner where it's best to observe the coming and going of the trolley, or where the air currents of the encapsulated city waft the odor of shed skin cells and armor from the building's own HVAC. Sometimes Tim forgets just how good the wolf's senses are. He can easily pick apart Bruce's routine patrols from the others'.
(He's a young, scrawny, coarse-haired thing.)
Some days later, he figures it's time: if he's not being watched yet, he should be; he hasn't trailed anyone else in this state. The wolf's head is low as he stalks to the usual haunt, ears on a swivel.
He fully expects to be hunted just as he'd been hunting. For answers, for satisfaction. For something.
And the moment he senses it, the eyes of Batman or Bruce Wayne-- Tim sprints away.
Catch him if you can, or suffer with not knowing what goes bump in the night in the quiet of Etraya.]
no subject
the engine of the younger looking batmobile growls in the dark of the night and the blue light from within crackles across both the hood and the rear of the vehicle. he wastes no time in taking off β in pushing the stick forward and forcing it to go as he takes after the creature sprinting off.
because he's been here for almost two years now and he knows the wildlife and lack of it here. this wolf is not part of it. )
no subject
And so, the scene: the wolf has planted his hind legs in the icy road to pivot to bark at what's barreling towards him. He can't outrun a machine. But there's an alley to his left, and there his four legs will carry him faster than Batman's two.
Batman wouldn't run over a puppy.
(But what tricks this car has up its metal sleeves is a mystery.)]