A sunset. The sun’s fiery kiss to the night. The Coyote moved his head closer to the unnamed individual. Frozen for a moment, from both trepidation and elation. The eyes folded, imprisoning the eyeball. Leaning all the way in, the sign of affection was placed upon her lips. A couple seconds darted pass, eventually a minute had passed. His arms were massaging her body, tracing every inch. A few more minutes and the man backed off, stopping his domination against the woman in front. "You're not her." The way he stated the obvious was in a sad tone, dragging all worries down. He disappeared on her without turning his back; half her dress was ripped off, worn by a crying face calling out telling the Coyote he was a dick. He paid it no mind; after all, she wasn't wrong.

Back into the city of Era the man paced. His apparel was the usual once more; unless there was an event similar to what he did for Icarus, the wardrobe would only be filled with all sorts of uniforms of pure black. Today was no different. A black hoodie and a black pair of joggers. His shoes were casual, sport shoes. The only thing out of the ordinary, though not for himself, was his fox mask. Walking through the streets would bring face turns of all kind, none of which would stop the Coyote in his tracks.

Before he knew it, he arrived at the entrance of the Rune Knight headquarters. He was waiting on something or someone, someone to change his view on things once more. Women were nothing more but sexual piles of meat in his eyes. Katja was something more, but he hadn't had the liberty to casually talking to her. Hell, he didn't even know where she was anymore. And as a result, his view on things went back to the previous state. At this point, he was nothing more than a dirty dog.

Life is full of unexpected surprises. There are a number of opportunities when one can covertly desire for something invigorating to occur – something out of the customary. The real stupefaction is when the covet abruptly comes true. Perhaps it was the woman's personal fantasy to affront the Coyote.

It wasn't often that the Lycan socialized, even among his own contingent. He only gathered when the big boss, Icarus, called for him. Otherwise, his presence would be elsewhere; for example, running around Era looking for bewitching females to spend the night with. This woman didn't seem like the case. She began with a comment, displaying that she knew of Faust. White hair danced as a breeze blew by. Lull took over and the male supported the hush of the air. The silence wasn't for nothing; it granted the Coyote ability to ponder as to where he could have met such a stunning face like her. Even if she was nothing more than a call girl, there was no denying the fact that she stood out. Alas, he settled on it. His lips rived apart, though unbeknownst to anyone due to his mask. "Who are you?"

Again, one could not see his face but granted they could, they'd only see puzzlement above all else. The Lycan towered over her and stared, his build obviously allowing so. Unlike usual, he didn't pull any moves on her. Because his emotional state wasn't ideal, groping her was out of the question, at least for the time being. He stared some more; she was a real beauty. As soon as he had the thought, a pulse ran through his head and pounded it like a drum, thumping at a certain rhythm. With each thump, the only name repeated was none other than Katja.

Red hair flowing indiscriminately. The lady who owned such precious hair was just as inimitable as the hair itself, a rarity above all else. She spouted nonsense, despite her alluring factor. From her slender lips, indulge in color, came the random names of animals. A coyote, particularly. As she paused before continuing once more, the Lycan decided to inspect her by making an entire circle before deciding; she was definitely a call girl he just so happened to forget. And so, Faust committed the pesky crime that people often shouted “rape” or anything else along those lines. With the events that had just occurred in Era, there’s no denying that he was definitely wanted; without a doubt, the Lycan had to lay low for the time being. His actions didn’t match his thought process at all. Had the little lady not made a move, she’d find a hand casually grabbing the left butt cheek. The throbbing in his head slowly subsided as he persuaded himself that it was just a butt.

It mattered little how the female decided to react to it. Given she slapped him or called out rape, Faust wouldn’t budge an inch. His spirit wasn’t in the best of situations right now and he just didn’t have it in him to run from the sex police. Whatever she did, he would only sit down in front of the Magic Council Headquarters and wait for his arrest.

Despite his act, he had caught onto her code words. Coyote, Malice. Both were nicknames, used within the inner circles of the guild stained blood red. Still, the name of Malice didn’t tie with any other names Faust had remembered. The only people he had met before were Erebus and the love of his life. All three of them met one stormy night, but disappeared like the very storm itself. They had not been in contact since then, a shame to many sorry hearts. As his head removed itself from the memories that one clung so closely, Faust found himself with his hand still on her butt. A squeeze etched way towards the respective cheek if no moves had been made in regards to his act of perversion. With every other word he said, he gave another squeeze. “I’m-” he announced in a monotone howl. "Let's go get some coffee or something." resulting in four extra pinches.

But in reality, he knew what he wanted. His heart, hung up on someone who was no where to be seen, couldn't deal with it. And so, he dispersed into nothingness, going towards the way he came.