Trystan slips quietly inside and pauses in the shadows, looking around. She has thick, curly, shoulder length sandy colored hair and wears dark sunglasses. She wears a white t-shirt with a running black wolf printed on it, and a large, heavy denim jacket. She wears baggy jeans which just cover her dirty combat boots, and fingerless gloves, which do nothing to hide the blunt claws at the end of her fingers. << App 2 >>

Trystan has a heavy, obviously salvation army issue backpack slung over her shoulder. Around her neck hangs a thin silver chain. She scowls and runs her fingers through her hair irritably, revealing her ears, which are sharply pointed. She strides quietly to a table in the corner and sits with her back to the wall, studing the people in the club warily. She pulls a metal cantean out of her backpack and sips from it, then replaces it in her pack.

- Glock 19 (Dif 6, Dmg 2)
- Army Knife (Dmg str+1)
- Approximately $150 in one, five, and ten dollar bills, and in change
- Dark wrap-around sunglasses
- Motercycle
- Small, metal cantean, containing one blood point