Drago was back in his home town. He was busy wrapping his wrist so that the ache would dull. It was the only wound he walked away with from the night before. The other man not faring well at all. He had almost ripped the guy’s throat out. Taunting was never something that Drago had taken lightly. Especially when ignorant older fighters underestimated him. That man was not likely to make that mistake again.

The young werewolf was a fierce Alpha, it had bled into the way he conducted his life. If anyone questioned his abilities and authority they were quickly corrected. He had won his fight and given a handsome reward for doing so. He planned on going to his other tomorrow and giving her a portion of his prize money, making sure she was doing well. For now he just wanted a strong drink.

After he was sure the cloth bandage was tight and in place Drago ran his fingers through his hair pushing it out of his face and made sure his beard wasn’t unruly. Sure he didn’t much care if he was slightly disheveled but there was no sense in walking around looking homeless.

It was summer but the recent rain had cooled down the afternoon air so Drago found a warn jean jacket and shrugged it on. Next came his boots and he was ready to go. He made his way down the stairs from his flat and stepped out onto the street. There were people everywhere. Why was he back here? Drago loved Germany but Dresden was little more populated than Whitechapel. He preferred the home he had there for that reason. Still he kept the his Dresden home so he could spend time with his mother and not have to stay with her.

It didn’t take long for him to get to the bar and slip into the dimply lit place. Older unk rock played from the speakers and there was a small crowed about, mostly men and mostly the kind that kept to themselves. Just the kind of place he liked. He ordered a whiskey coke and sat back at a small table by himself.