(could not resist sorry)


Javan had made a couple bucks taking out some vermin on a local farmers land, and a few more on the pelts he had tanned afterwards. He had a fresh, if creased, bundle of bills and an empty stomach. He walked in, his vulpine friend Rabbit at his heels and immediately regretted his choice to come to this particular location. He blinked slowly several time and slowly made his way to a table and grabbed a menu. He buried his head in the menu, and Rabbit hid under the table. Javan's sense of smell was far superior to any normal human's, so he picked up on things others wouldn't, like the burning rage in the woman glaring at the mother of a young boy, and the decidedly wild smell of several people in the building. He was new to this area and didn't know anyone, but he could tell right away that mother was well known, and probably not popular.

Hey Rabbit? You think we should leave? These people are insane. I can smell the hostility and its making me nauseous. But that Venison stew is making me light headed. Not being able to hunt is making me desperate. The boy reached under the table and placed a hand on the fox's head for comfort. He set the menu down and decided to do something he really didn't do often. He openly stared at the people, a mix of fear and fascination on his face. He was not used to human interactions, not after two years living in the wild with wolves, coyotes and foxes. And even before that, he had been someone who preferred the woods to the mall. Well if there had been a mall in his hometown...With a sharp stab in his heart his father's face flashed before him. He clenched his jaw. He was about t speak up about bothering other people when Rabbit bit him lightly on the hand.

Don't. Let them deal with this themselves. Human relationships may not make sense to those like you and me, but this is something even one of the people understands, those two females were both involved with the same male. It is a matter of pride and territory. I have watched humans for a long time, though my four summers is meager compared to your lives. Some human males with mate with females other than the one they have courted, this is the result. It would be much simpler if they were like foxes. We mate for life, and a male who takes a female other than his courted one is usually Torn. You would call it neutered. Fang, if you need me to point this out, you may have to spend more time with your own kind. You are losing touch with your human instincts, and that could lead to bad things in the future. The fox jumped into the seat and placed his paws on the table to look at the group at the center of the disturbance. He was completely unafraid of the humans around him, and despite being 'an animal' his eyes shone with a greater intelligence.

"I just want something to eat..." Javan muttered under his breath. He would wait patiently for the lady to come take his order, because that was how his mother had raised him, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it. His stare, born of a curiosity founded in a complete lack of human interaction skills, turned into a half glare as his stomach let out a deep, clearly audible, growl. The fact he could smell EVERYTHING in the kitchen, just made things worse for him. But one thing he hadn't taken into account was his attire. He looked like he had gotten his clothing from a poor pimps donation box. Pants made of corduroy that had seen much better days, taken from a trash can outside a farm house, washed and patched with leather made from rabbit hides. A blue denim shirt that was patched in a similar fashion, at the elbows, and boots that were so worn they were more like slippers. The fact his coat was made from a patchwork of white and brown pelts probably didn't help matters. That and his body odor, which was strong enough to be noticeable by even the most smoke damaged sense of smell. Hell a fish could probably smell him.

The boy remained in the seat, oblivious to the fact that he smelled and looked terrible. Even if he had been well dressed and freshly bathed, he would have brought attention to himself with his long hair, and the fact he was being followed by a fox with a pelt that could easily fetch a couple hundred bucks with the right buyer. His eyes, a cold blue, like frozen sapphires, could be unsettling to look into, because if you looked long enough you would see the horror of his past, lingering in his soul like a cancer. He kept switching the target of his gaze, never resting on any single thing for more than a moment. Anyone trained for it would notice he was ready to bolt at any given moment. Javan was a survivor, and everything about him was keyed for it, being clean only mattered if you had a wound, and patchwork clothing was better than going with nothing but fur and leather. His backpack, stored in the woods, was also full of things necessary for survival. His right hand went to his pocket, where his hunting knife was. His gaze was drawn, for the fifth time, to the deputy, who smelled like a wild animal, and who seemed to be in charge at the moment. Javan placed his free hand on Rabbits head, more for comfort than anything else. He never even considered that the animal would not be welcome in the building.