⟪ late night, shifting time, when people are more likely to run from a wild animal in their park than they are to take out a camera and get a picture. flora had been sneaking out and about in a mcdonald's lot, and once again, she'd gotten lucky – nothing like a gaggle of drunks to delight in the sight of a fox just long enough for said fox to grab the biggest box of nuggets held by one of the bunch and make a run for it.
altogether, she's happy with her catch, red and bushy tail trailing behind her as she struts between two bushes, aiming for a nice clearing in the park where her she likes to devour her treasures. her nostrils are filled with the promising scent of chicken, her little fox stomach is rumbling, and in her mind, she's already eating –– and that's how she comes face to face, well, snout to snout, with the biggest dog she's ever seen.
fox eyes go wide in shock, fur stands and fluffs up in an instinctive attempt to look bigger than she is. and her box of nuggets? that gets dropped. that dog is big enough to be a proper wolf, and she's not about to play here. instead, she noses the box open, and takes a few careful steps backwards. peace offering? ⟫
[ Wolves can get easily mistaken for very big dogs — but still, Billie also keeps her shifting to the later hours, when she feels like roaming around without running into anyone. There are roads drifters use, those coming in and out of the city, and there's no better way to know new scents. All manner of creatures pass, and she prefers to keep trouble to a minimum. ]
[ There's a new scent, a fox. She picks it up and follows it to the parking lot, watching the theft with some amusement. Far be it for her to immediately reach for the other tools wolves have: their teeth, their claws, their size. Snout to snout, she then sniffs at the chicken nuggets. Suitable. But she wants to see the fox, and pads closer, sniffing at Flora curiously. ]
⟪ her ears fold as far back as they can, but... there's nothing threatening about the gigantic wolf-dog. well, beyond sheer appearance, that is. there's no growling, no teeth-bared.
slowly, flora's fur settles, and while she seems to keep desperately low to the ground out of sheer instinct, she edges a tiny bit closer. gives one of the paws a curious sniff.
when she's still not being attacked, she'll take a few more steps forward, bolder now, rubbing her small fox head against the much bigger wolf snout.
[ No growling. No teeth-bared. She answers threats, but she knows even by appearance alone she can be discouraging. But she also likes curiosity that meets hers in kind, and lets the fox sniff at her paw. Lets it greet her in its own way. ]
[ She too leans in, to nose at one of Flora's ears. Hello, what are you doing out here? ]
⟪ what is she doing? her tail twitches, a little nervous, a little shamed. she's just started to work for boris, he's teaching her the ins and outs of his most common recipes before her real start at the bar next week, he's given her a headstart on her wage so she's got a tiny place to sleep in, a real proper home, and here she is, same as always, stealing food from drunk people heading home from clubbing.
even if she'd like to dress it up as a 'fox tax', where drunk people get to see one hella good fox and then pay for the distracting sighting with nuggets.
she sniffs, and moves back to fetch one of the nuggets for herself. down the hatch it goes. maybe her new wolf acquaintance hadn't seen how ill-begotten they were. 'having dinner' is the answer, and the way she noses the box towards bill indicates a 'would you like some?' ⟫
[ She is new. The city hasn't sunk into her yet, with its proverbial claws, but Billie, most days, thinks more kindly of Chicago. She snorts at the nugget — it's a reasonable offering, but she's not about to take food from something (someone) that may be starving. Often, it's easier to be homeless, to eat, as an animal than as a human being. People are more likely to feed a stray dog or ignore a raccoon than they are to stop and comfort another human being sleeping on a park bench. ]
[ She pushes the box towards Flora with her nose, and sits, glancing around, ears primed for noise. Eat in peace, stranger. ]
no subject
altogether, she's happy with her catch, red and bushy tail trailing behind her as she struts between two bushes, aiming for a nice clearing in the park where her she likes to devour her treasures. her nostrils are filled with the promising scent of chicken, her little fox stomach is rumbling, and in her mind, she's already eating –– and that's how she comes face to face, well, snout to snout, with the biggest dog she's ever seen.
fox eyes go wide in shock, fur stands and fluffs up in an instinctive attempt to look bigger than she is. and her box of nuggets? that gets dropped. that dog is big enough to be a proper wolf, and she's not about to play here. instead, she noses the box open, and takes a few careful steps backwards. peace offering? ⟫
no subject
[ There's a new scent, a fox. She picks it up and follows it to the parking lot, watching the theft with some amusement. Far be it for her to immediately reach for the other tools wolves have: their teeth, their claws, their size. Snout to snout, she then sniffs at the chicken nuggets. Suitable. But she wants to see the fox, and pads closer, sniffing at Flora curiously. ]
no subject
slowly, flora's fur settles, and while she seems to keep desperately low to the ground out of sheer instinct, she edges a tiny bit closer. gives one of the paws a curious sniff.
when she's still not being attacked, she'll take a few more steps forward, bolder now, rubbing her small fox head against the much bigger wolf snout.
guess she's saying 'hi'. ⟫
no subject
[ She too leans in, to nose at one of Flora's ears. Hello, what are you doing out here? ]
no subject
even if she'd like to dress it up as a 'fox tax', where drunk people get to see one hella good fox and then pay for the distracting sighting with nuggets.
she sniffs, and moves back to fetch one of the nuggets for herself. down the hatch it goes. maybe her new wolf acquaintance hadn't seen how ill-begotten they were. 'having dinner' is the answer, and the way she noses the box towards bill indicates a 'would you like some?' ⟫
no subject
[ She pushes the box towards Flora with her nose, and sits, glancing around, ears primed for noise. Eat in peace, stranger. ]