The quietly thunderous but not unpleasant murmur of numerous taxi cars echoed off the many brick buildings that surrounded Bigby Wolf. The narrow street was uncomfortably deserted for New York City, but that eerie emptiness was the norm for this particular street- if all was well. Lighting one of the "Huff-n-Puff's" that Fabletown's residents largely despised, Bigby's keen eyes swept across the street. As he exhaled an unpleasant haze of smoke, he heard the unfortunately familiar sound of someone falling onto- and most likely crushing- an automobile.
"Shit."
While few Fables and considerably fewer mundys would have heard the shattering crash, Bibgy had the heightened senses one would expect to be had by the Big Bad Wolf. Another crash reached his sharp ears, followed by a load groan. No, not a groan- a growl.
"Fuck."
Bigby's pace quickened. Who… Beast? That doesn't make sense though… Pain in my ass either way-
Radio static interrupted his thoughts.
Police. Shit. Why can't they just deal with-
"Mutie on the loose, reinforcements—" As Bigby rounded the corner, he saw that the officer speaking into the radio was cut short by the man- Mutie?- who had pulled himself from the car wreckage. Bigby noticed the car was crushed far more than it should have been, considering the short stature of the individual who pried himself out of it. The fuck…?
The short man abruptly stopped his threatening walk towards the officer. Titling his head, the man sniffed the air. The red flannel he wore was loose, but Bigby could easily see how tense he had suddenly become. Adjusting his black tie, Bigby crushed his cigarette underfoot and waited to see what the short man would do. The way he… He must have caught my scent. Well, something irritating was bound to happen today, might as well get it over wi-
The man in the flannel locked eyes with Bigby, interrupting his train of thought.
SNICKT.
Three long blades extended from each of the man's hands, reflecting the early New York sun on their silver surface. Bigby's eyebrow raised and his hands went to his tie again, adjusting the black fabric for need of something to hold. He wasn't afraid of the man by any stretch- not yet at least- but he was concerned about his reputation, so precariously balanced on his every action.
"Let's go down to the business office and talk with Snow."
It was the other man's turn to raise an eyebrow. He paused, then his expression darkened. Bigby was an adept reader of body language and knew what was coming.
Growling, the shorter man charged at Bigby.
Damn mundy… Need to move this somewhere else.
Bigby turned on his heels and ran- which irritated him immensely. He hoped the man- mutie, was it?- wasn't getting the wrong impression of Sheriff Wolf. He settled his internal conflict upon deciding he would prove to this nuisance who was in charge once they were safely out of the mundy's sight. The two men's chase was unnaturally fast, and moments later Bigby sharply turned down an alley in Fabletown. He stopped quickly and spun around, waiting for the man to catch up. He wasn't left waiting but for a few short breaths when the man with the six ominous blades nearly plowed him down.
Like wolves, they slowly circled each other. Bigby broke the silence.
"What the hell is a mutie?"
"How the fuck do you not know? Have you been living in a cave the past few years? You certainly smell like it, asshole."
In response to his question, Bigby allowed his form to change as much as he could without raising hell in the Fable community. His ears became larger, pointed. His teeth lengthened and sharpened and his five o'clock shadow grew out to a length similar to the other man's. His fingernails more closely resembled claws and his eyes were no longer a common brown but a striking yellow.
The shorter man laughed.
Bigby's eyebrow raised in surprise, which did nothing to subdue the man's humor. Underneath the roar of the man's laughter, Bigby heard the soft but angry click of heels worn by a woman on a mission.
Fuck. He looked up at the brick buildings flanking the alleyway and saw a curtain hurriedly pulled across a dirty window. Shit head snitch.
"Bigby!"
The man's laughter subsided. "Bigby? What kind of name is that, bub?" He laughed again.
"Bigby Wolf! What the hell is going on?" Snow stood angrily at the mouth of the alley, her tightly clenched fists resting on her hips, though she found herself wishing they were tightly clenched around someone's throat. She didn't have time for this nonsense. Why couldn't the Fables just keep it together for one single day? Her eyes widened when she noticed the other man's numerous knives. Noticing her expression, he retracted his claws and looked at Bigby with amusement. Nearly shame faced at Snow's chastisement, Bigby's wolfish features diminished until he appeared entirely human again.
The man in the flannel's brow had been deeply furrowed in thought. "Bigby Wolf..." he muttered. "Bigby Wolf… Bigby Wolf…" The volume of his voice rose with realization. "Big Bad Wolf…" He looked up in surprise. "Are you shitting me? Are you the Big Bad Wolf? You think I'm just going to believe that?"
Bigby shrugged, amused. A slight smile crossed his tired face until he saw Snow's expression of concern and confusion. "Let's sort this out at the business office. But first, what's your name?"
The shorter man shook his head in humored amazement. "What a fucking crazy day. The name's Logan."