Shadow Tongue scanned the Hall once last time.
The room was divieded into two areas. A large table propped up with sturdy things lined with two-by-four benches resting on milk crates and paint canes.
They other space was a smaller table around which rusted metal chairs sat in a half-circle. Here where only a few. Shadow Tongue didn't know how many packs even existed, but his count was around six. Extras lay propped up nearby.
A scitching sound came from a door labeled 'Fresh Game'. What garbage Andrew refused to clear out was stacked haphazardly against a far wall.
Shadow Tongue shifted into Dalu form with an effort of will, then settled in his chair at the Alpha Table. He glanced at his dinged up watch. Usually these type of events began at sunset. It was seven something, the minute hand didn't work.