Wulfgar follows the Haunt Priscus to a more isolated area, away from the more socially adept kindred. He figured first impressions with the prince wasnt going to be all hand shakes, cornicopias of blood dolls and talk of the good Ole days. But at least he isn't a pile of dust to be swept up.
Garrick seemed straight and to the point, even if his eyes didn't look like they were on it...
"Evening Priscus... apologies if I made a mistake in addressing the Prince before you."
Wulfgar takes in amother sip of his drink anxiously.