Bath Camarilla

Regulus pads slowly into the shade of a half toppled stone wall, the shadow of his form is thrown against the stonework by the light of the moon as he goes through the process of returning to his human form. Removing a pair of spectacles from his pocket he places them on the end of his nose.

With a quick gesture and a slight growl the three large Irish wolfhounds with him shoot into the darkness like speeding crossbow bolts. They would warn him if anything untoward approached the Gather. A slight smile twitches at the corner of his mouth, sitting crosslegged on the ground he removes a small book from his pocket and begins to read.