At the Slaughtered Lamb
"In ancient times when werewolves roamed the land
There was an old pub called The Slaughtered Lamb"
Sammy arrived by taxi just after 7pm. She admitted to herself she was a little nervous. Nervous was not a normal feeling for her. The first time he'd caught her by surprised and got a cranky mood in return. His file was committed to memory, but there was a gaping hole in the information. Nowhere in it did she find anything brother-like and that was who she was meeting tonight. Now she wished she'd thought to ask someone to come with her.
The Slaughtered Lamb pub was a recommendation sometime back from Misha. His love of bad horror flicks dredged up 'An American Werewolf in London', and the two main characters encounter with the locals in the Slaughter Lamb. Sammy had never had a reason to come here before. It seemed like good neutral territory.
She stepped inside the pub and was immediately enveloped in the smells of food and people, the clacking of pool balls from the billiards room, and the murmur of voice and laughter. People were having a good time.
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