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Message: <blockquote data-quote="TillForPie" data-source="post: 6360605" data-attributes="member: 6762758">AgnasciThe walk to the corner of James Longstreet Road and 15th Street is a short one. This is a poor neighborhood, probably the poorest in Nazareth except for Tuxedo Springs. Before too long Agnasci is standing outside of a shabby little house with a chain-link fence and gravel yard, inside of which are lined up seven motorcycles. Creedence Clearwater Revival's Run Through the Jungle is blaring from the backyard. Yeah, this is definitely the place. The street here is packed with cars because of a party that's taking place in the front yard of the house directly across from Agnaci's destination - a quinceañera by the look of it. I hope the birthday girl likes Creedence.Agnasci heads around the side of the house into the backyard and is greeted by the sight of Big Rich lounging in a plastic kiddie pool, again stripped down to his boxers (though he's still got on his do-rag and shades). He's got a beer bottle in hand and he's chatting up a man standing outside the pool, fully clothed, who Agnasci doesn't recognize: He's probably in his late 20s, with long blonde hair, nearly platinum in color - he looks like Thor in a biker getup. There are two in the backyard Agnasci does recognize, both standing around a smoking grill. The first is Buddha-man, or Buddha, a bald and morbidly obese man in his late 20s or early 30s who bears a striking resemblance to his namesake. He's gregarious and polite, perhaps the Dog of War most suited to a life outside the gang. The second is Smiley, a man Agnasci's only met once or twice, and the one Weinberg's kid is in debt to. He's one of the oldest of the Dogs of War present, in his 40s or maybe even his 50s, with a hideous scar extending from his mouth to his left ear, an injury received from a motorcycle accident in his youth. Agnasci can tell from his brief meetings with the guy that Smiley is a hard man with little patience or social graces. Seated around a patio table is a group of five people who are all strangers to Agnasci, two men and three women. The first man is the youngest person present, in his early 20s at the most, very heavily muscled with striking good looks. The second is older, around the same age as the guy cooking with Buddha-man, and very skinny. The three women vary in age, from the youngest who could pass for a high schooler to the oldest who could pass for Faye, with the same jeans, boots, and browned skin. None of the women are in leathers but to Agnasci they're the exact sort to hang around with the Dogs of War. Finally, on the far side of the yard is the last of them, also a stranger to Agnasci. He's short, probably only in his 30s but already balding, and in a lounge chair under the shade of a patio table's umbrella, talking on a cell phone."Hey, little buddy!" BR shouts when he spots Agnasci. "Mad Dog's over there," he points toward the man talking on the phone. Agnasci heads over, keeping a comfortable distance from Mad Dog so that he isn't intruding on his phone call. Mad Dog holds up a finger to indicate that Agnasci wait without looking up at the guest. There's a beer, sketchpad and pencil on the table by Mad Dog and Agnasci tilts his head a little to get a better look at what he's been drawing: It's still in its early stages, little more than outlines, but Agnasci can make out the shape of a bird, maybe a pigeon or something, and it's perched on what looks like the beginnings of a park bench. Wait. Agnasci narrows his eyes at the sketch. It's a crow. That's Harper's bird! "Look, I gotta go," Mad Dog says into his phone, still not having looked up at Agnasci.</blockquote>

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