Another opportunity arises

You swerve your way through the cluttered and packed streets of the city, dipping into alley ways to keep out of them so you can breath. You head towards the central pavilion in the city, as where you rest is on the central/west side of town, while the black market is in the east, close to the walls. You rush forward, your human legs slower than your wolf ones, but you are still a master of parkour and free running. You grin ferally as you maneuver around barrels and boxes, past people and carts, through crowds and across walls. Once you reach the pavilion, you break out into a dead sprint, trying to get through the market filled place. You squint as you race, the sun bright today. You dodge a carriage that would have hit you, and thank Lady Luck.

Sadly, your luck is shit. You run headlong into a man, knocking you both over. You roll, and land flat on your back, the wind knocked out of your lungs and it struggles to return to them. You hear the man you hit get up, and you see him block out the blinding sun. Your breath returns as you drink in his appearance, with a healthy dose of respect and fear. He is a tall man, with reddish hair slicked back and dark emerald eyes, a dark mahogany goatee on his face along with a pair of bifocals. His frame is covered by a long, white coat, and under it is a black shirt and a patchwork vest that is stained and smeared. He extends a gloved hand to you, which you grasp. He doesn't pull you up, but just stares at you.

"You have... Golden eyes." He states, his gaze shaking you as the emerald color of his eyes reminds you of lethal poisons you have seen in the black market. His lips twitch as he quirks a smile.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am sorry to cut my demonstration short, but I have discovered a boy with a rather rare illness! Due to this, I shall be treating him immediately, free of charge, in order to keep this fair city clean of plague and illness! But, fear not, for I shall show off what progress I will have made in a week's time, right here! Till then, I shall be off!" He declares, straightening with your hand and wrist in his grasp, showing you that he was talking to a small crowd in front of a table that had a few potions and jars on it. He gathers up them into a neat bundle with a flick of the cloth that covers the table, and puts it under the crook of his arm.

"You. You have a rare condition. I have seen it before in a dear friend." He states, his voice now void of the showmanship he was presenting to the crowd, now showing the cold steel and the calculating in his voice. "Lycanthrope, commonly referred to as a Werewolf. You posses the eyes of one, which is how I was able to deduce your condition." He states, walking away, still holding onto your wrist with a gloved hand. You snarl, and grab at his sleeve.

"So what of it? I am a werewolf, and I plan on staying that way." You growl, baring your fangs. He gives you a bland look as he continues to stride forward, dragging you with him.

"And I assume you were going to head to the black market to find a potion to make your transformation indefinite?" He observed, "An adrenaline junky as well as a hedonist. You think because your stronger and better in your hybrid form, that you should permanently stay in it." He adjusts his glasses, not breaking his stride as he leads you to a building made of brick like the rest, but unlike the others, this one's bricks were worn and weathered, not tended for like the others and were ground under the winds of time. Steel fencing ran around the building, housing a garden that looked more like a jungle than a botany leisure path. Over all, it looked like one of the manners that the rich lived in, but this one was more run down, and foreboding.

"I apologies, my dear friend," He crows, turning to you. "But I all but forgot to give you my name. I am Doctor Bartholomew Wellington, Alchemist, Botanist, Biologist, and Magizoologist. I specialize in potions and cures, but also know how to rid curses or to enhance them or make them more controllable. And I can tell you right now, the money in your pocket would have been a waste in the black market, as there is no potion to make the Lycanthrope state permanent."