Plus this isn't the inner roads of the City, it ain't Peter's apartment road with gardeners trimming off the bushes every week. This is where the lower-leveled workers live, so...
*James shrugged, hands in his pockets - he lived here, too, and he certainly could do with a nicer atmosphere, but what could he do? The shabby air was sort of homey to him*
Plus it's ten times cheaper to get a room with decent hospitality here than inside. It's fair enough...
...But this is not normal.
*he raised his boot up, narrowed his eyes at the bloodied puddle, then, the trail of pink leading its way at the back of the row of three-story rentals, way back to the pawn shop*
Okay, kiddies, stay here. Looks like stray dogs are tearing meat up again.
*it was off hours but this has become routine for James now - quite a few werewolf kids forget their meds and he had to stun them, call the hospital, then give his usual rant to the parents - sometimes it's hungry vampires, and they had to get put down by something a little stronger than a gun, but nothing that would harm them too much, they'd have hell facing them in the court anyway*
*he pulled up his gun, pressed the charger, and followed the trail*