One of Wess' first days on the job was a stressful one. He was hungry, but then, he always was, and he was new to everything. Too hypersensitive to the sounds around him and every person that walked passed the building. Brad tried to calm him down beforehand because despite being his boss, Brad was both a nice guy and a great boss. Wesley had reassured the other man that he was fine. Just fine.
He was anything but fine.
Right now, his hands trembled as he tried to recall how to place the orders into the register and how much money everything cost and how much was what. So many things had changed since Wess had been out in the world.
When the bell at the door rung and signified someone's entrance, Wess looked up. It was a giant of a man -- that in an of itself was enough to put Wesley on guard, but not feeling hungry at his presence was what really had Wess on guard.
His jaw clenched further than it already was and Wesley stood a little taller in the hopes of coming off more presentable. He'd worn slacks and a button up, which was terribly uncomfortable and restrictive as far as he was concerned.
"H-Hello. Welcome to Jack's butcher shop. How may we hel-help you today?"
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Taller wouldn't be possible when the Giant (literally) of a man stepped into the butcher shop. He already had to lean down to enter, and was standing at an angle just to make sure he wasn't chancing his head beating against the ceiling. He looked down at Wess with his sole eye, then grinned wide.
There was a familiar stink of death on him, no where near as potent as the one that Wess carried with him but it was there, just the same as those hungry eyes, those flesh ripping teeth, and that light growl that left the giant as he could smell the delicious meat being cut and prepared behind the smaller Wendigo before him.
He approached the counter, his smile genuine(ley terrifying) as he spoke in a heavy southern accent to the man. "Well yes, Son. I'm hoping Y'all may be able T'fill a pretty hefty order For my establishment. Seems that folk aren't happy enough with just a bar these days. Always wanting, and wanting." Pulling free from his pocket a paper, even as he waited for the other to speak. His grin everlasting, and his nostrils flaring up each time he could hear a cleaver come down, and the blood splatter from the cut meat in the back. So hungry...
There was a familiar stink of death on him, no where near as potent as the one that Wess carried with him but it was there, just the same as those hungry eyes, those flesh ripping teeth, and that light growl that left the giant as he could smell the delicious meat being cut and prepared behind the smaller Wendigo before him.
He approached the counter, his smile genuine(ley terrifying) as he spoke in a heavy southern accent to the man. "Well yes, Son. I'm hoping Y'all may be able T'fill a pretty hefty order For my establishment. Seems that folk aren't happy enough with just a bar these days. Always wanting, and wanting." Pulling free from his pocket a paper, even as he waited for the other to speak. His grin everlasting, and his nostrils flaring up each time he could hear a cleaver come down, and the blood splatter from the cut meat in the back. So hungry...
The moment the door opened, the ugly shrunken head nailed to the counter that served as the shop's bell screamed bloody murder and looked at the giant of a man. "Oi! The fuck you doin' here? You big, towering oaf."
Wess knew all the signs of another Wendigo, even if he had never seen one before himself. He winced when Eddie, the shrunken head, took to bellowing. He reached out and wrapped his elongated hand around Eddie and shushed him. "E-Eddie, please."
Wesley cleared his throat before looking up at Stephen, movements somewhat wary and stiff. He typed something into the register. "O-Of course. Did you want the normal order or something from the back? The back is for maneaters. What quantity were you hoping to get?"
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