Adair stepped out of the shower and brushed back his orangey hair with a hand. "So now what?" he mumbled to himself as he surveyed the little one room place he called home. A squat really, not that he minded. Even if the clothes he put on were still dirty from a weeks worth of fights, he felt comfortable in this sort of life style. He grabbed his weapons belt and fixed it around his waist before before looking at himself in the cracked and distorted length of glass he called a mirror. He looked like he'd slept at a bar and he couldn't help but notice that the muscles in his right arm seemed even more pronounced that the previous day. He touched the wound marks faintly, then traced along the edges of the few stripes that had formed around it. It was no doubt a curse to be turning into some kind of cat.

The thought brought anger to him and he stalked out of the squat. He wrapped his arm in a bandage as he walked, tying the ends with his teeth. He seriously needed something to do today, so he headed through the town, just looking for suspicious activity and people to beat the shit out of. That would put him in a good mood for sure.