Seven:
Wolf shifters prowled in every direction. Many taking several laps around the silly vampyrs willingly amid their metropolis. This was a teeming place, however, not in the mortal way. There were no public trash bins. Their streets were not very well lit. The denizens didn’t require the aid. They also didn’t like the foul odors of trash stinking up their living areas.
Everything was clean, even by my standard. I’d lived in many cities throughout my lifetime. Even early on, things tended to get epically messy. After years, I began to adapt to the toxic and offensive odors of human life.
“This air, it tastes of proper maple. There are no hazards in the air.”
I commented, and Olaf nodded in agreement.
“I can smell roses and hydrangeas. I might not be an immortal, but even my nose
