Wolf Totem

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The sun sunk low in the distant horizon, casting varying arrays of red, yellow and purple to cascade into the ever darkening Nevada night sky. The desert passed begrudgingly along beside them, and Toby was certain it wouldn't ever stop. He partly blamed the fear in his anxiety even though he knew Nevada was a good distance from South Carolina, so walking wasn't necessarily an option. But he supposed he could make due with looking out the window or trying to make conversation to distract himself. He hadn't broken down yet, which was good, at least. Though that almost seemed like a better option, at this point.

"You think they even have motels on reserve?" Toby asked, leaning his head between the front seats.

"What do you think they are, Tobes?" chuckled Brian in response to the absurd question. "Some island in the middle of nowhere?"

"Well they might as well be, right?" he asked, sitting back. "I mean, people usually live among themselves there, like you guys said?"

"He's -- kinda got a point, Bri," chuckled Tim from the driver's seat (really the only person he felt safe enough to have drive for both himself and Brian anymore, it seemed). "They do tend to stick to themselves there, right? So…."

"But the doesn't mean they won't have motels!" scoffed Brian. "It's not like they're living in the middle ages or something, you guys!"

"How do you know?" asked Toby, popping up from the back seat once more. "Have you ever been to an Indian reservation before?"

Brian lulled his head to the side to properly glare at Toby. Toby grinned.
They'd recently been sent on another 'assignment' by the Tall Man, this time taking them well across the country to Nevada. Or, more specifically, to a reservation where several odd things had started to occur. Odd things that certainly were not of the normal, mortal realm. The Operator could surely take care of those things himself -- however they learned from both the Tall Man himself and from experience when he reared his ugly head on a rare occasion during a mission that involved dealing with other worldly things that he often could not do it himself due to the fact that any monstrosity they were sent to deal with would often scurry when they felt the Tall Man's presence from even miles away, making him unable to make direct contact with them and thus deal with them properly.

Which often meant that he sent his Proxys to deal with such situations. Tim had often joked that they had turned into some twisted form of the Winchesters (with Toby gleefully calling himself Cass), what with what their job entailed. Humans were often only a small percentage of what they had to 'deal' with, and even then they often found information on the people that involved the government and some strange organization they worked for (something about securing and containing something, of what and the name they could hardly ever recall). They were never the ones to question it, however. So long as they always came back unscathed, right?

"Think they'll have waffles if they have motels?" Toby mused more than asked, leaning back once more and adjusting his seat belt.

"Is that all you ever think about?" Tim chuckled.

A large sign quickly flashed past their car, indicating they were nearing their destination. What they didn't seem to notice was a wolf-like figure that emerged from the foliage near the sign as they passed; it's body looking somewhat disformed as it intently watched the car before retreating back from where it came with a limp to its stride.

"You really have to ask that?" asked Brian with a smirk. "Of course that's all he ever thinks about."

"Not true!" Toby whined, again popping his head between the front seats. "I think about other stuff, too!"

"Murder doesn't count," chuckled Tim.

"Well, you guys do, so~," Toby said in a sing songy voice.

"Mushy ass mother fucker," Tim chortled before Brian could melt into a puddle of goo and using a hand that quickly planted itself on Toby's face to force him back into the back seat. "Masturbation and sex doesn't count, either."

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