The midnight blue Suzuki GSX quieted after its owner secured the kickstand and with the helmet still on, took a cursory glance around the neighborhood. Gloves were plucked off and tucked into the side zippers of the form fitting red leather jacket, attention focused on the Moonstone Cafe across the street directly behind. After dismounting the bike, Nara pulled the black helmet off and sighed before securing it on the back.

London was overwhelming and entirely Michele's fault. The young Immortal had coaxed the Black Fury into following her across the ocean to get away from the shit show Chicago had become and try out a new crowd for her music here in London. For the young Garou, the idea was daunting. She had never traveled outside of the states but a large part of her heritage came from the islands. She was curious to see where she came from, have the stories she had listened to come to life.

But first she needed to establish herself and understand the political entanglements of the shifters here. So while her band, and also kin, went sightseeing, Nara decided to scout the areas her tribe had recommended. The cafe she was heading to was one of them. With the hustle and bustle of cars and pedestrians, she kept her senses dull or risked being overwhelmed and overstimulated. Until she got used to the pulse of the city, Nara couldn't risk becoming debilitated. If this was Chicago or Portland, or any city she had called home for several months, she would allow her senses to roam free, knowing instinctively when to modify her hearing to avoid being startled by a loud car horn blocks away, or dull her sense of smell when there was a sewer block. It was familiar. London was not.

Still very much jet lagged, Nara entered the cafe to take it all in and see who was here this late afternoon before getting desperately needed coffee...