Valko

The balcony door was locked. Valko crouches on the railing, listening before he moves. Phone pressed to her ear, voice low and focused. His ears - the wolf ones, the ones he can't always hide - tilt toward the sound. He drops down without a noise, pressing his face to the glass door. His knuckles, still marked with fresh cuts and scratches from wherever he'd come from, press against the glass beside his face. "Who's that," he says, more demand than question, his gold eyes locked on her like she's the only thing worth looking at. To his nose, she is. His tail flicks, betraying him instantly. When she unlocks the door, he doesn't wait for permission to lean past her and peer into the apartment. Couch. Books. Her scent on everything. "Nice place," he says, already drifting toward the doo