When Cub came to pick him up at the Luminary, they'd sat and had a cup of warm blood each at Brannigan's, served in disposal coffee cups that they could walk around with and have everyone be none the wiser. The coppery scent gave the liquid away, Win thought, but not everybody had a supernatural sense of smell. The two of them strolled out the doors and headed south on a whim.
Win regaled Cub with tales of living in Singapore and how he'd travelled by ship from there all the way to Chile, with a few stopovers for resupplying. He imparted details of sailing through a storm and thinking he'd be thrown overboard and how the ship had creaked and snapped and sounded like it was going to be blasted apart. He described the relief of his arrival and the mix of civilisations and beliefs he'd encountered, some calling him a demon, others calling him a god. Those stories were only brief and Cub got the distinct impression that Win hadn't dawdled in the more violent, native villages. All questions Cub asked were answered and expanded upon.
When conversation slowed, they found they'd made it to the edge of a large green space. Silently, they moved into the park, walking along a smooth paved path and looking at the pretty, manicured gardens around them.
"Can you feel that?" Win inquired suddenly, flicking his hands. "S'like... humming." He quirked his head but he couldn't tell where it was coming from. It was like it was all around him and nowhere. 'Humming' wasn't the right word for it either. It had a physical presence, like a vibration.
