Wolfgang stares, then -- pulls back on his mouth, furrows his brow like oh, huh. Foxes who turn into women (her hair is awfully pink), that's not even top 10 weirdest shit he's seen this week.
(He should have been able to tell -- but he's tired, he's preoccupied by the mess he currently is emotionally, and he's old and magic doesn't come to him the way it used to -- all of those are less hurtful explanations than there just being something wrong with him, so he'll take them right now.)
"This city," he says, his tone the verbal equivalent of a Kanye shrug. This city indeed. His mouth quirks upwards, lopsided, but it's there; it's not a condemnation, there's amusement there. He breathes a cloud of smoke away from her. "It's all right. I should know better by now."
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(He should have been able to tell -- but he's tired, he's preoccupied by the mess he currently is emotionally, and he's old and magic doesn't come to him the way it used to -- all of those are less hurtful explanations than there just being something wrong with him, so he'll take them right now.)
"This city," he says, his tone the verbal equivalent of a Kanye shrug. This city indeed. His mouth quirks upwards, lopsided, but it's there; it's not a condemnation, there's amusement there. He breathes a cloud of smoke away from her. "It's all right. I should know better by now."