09-17-2013, 06:16 AM
The winged man had seemed to check her out for a moment, and Jules raised an eyebrow. He moved on to the injured ripper. How these people cared for each other, how anyone cared for anyone without knowing them, would always amaze her. She slipped quietly back out the door once the others were preoccupied again. She didn't want to see it, if they decided not to keep the werewolf around, and there was so much tension in the room, it was suffocating her.
She moved around through the mall, back to the place she'd spoken of with the beds. Halfway there, she stood in a hall, eyeing a mannequin that was eyeing her. She'd have missed it if it hadn't been standing right there in the center of the hall. She wondered where the man from earlier went. The mannequin man. Or the one who'd let her into the building for that matter. Were there others?
Jules moved as silently as a human could until she reached what she'd refer to as the bed room. She spent some time feeling her way through the dark areas of the room and making sure she was alone. She walked to the large storefront window to look outside. The fog was lifting enough to allow some moonlight in. It wasn't enough light, but it was light. There was a bed, right there, almost parallel to the thick glass window. She tossed her backpack onto it.
It's had been many days, maybe weeks, that she'd slept on a real bed. She sat at the edge of it near the end where she could reach the window. The temperatures inside the building and out were so different that the inside of the window was beginning to fog. Jules began doodling little shapes and hearts on the glass without even realizing it as she pondered her next move, the state of the world, how long she might survive, etc.
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