Fox Friend? Fox Friend. ((For Loki))
Oct. 23rd, 2019 09:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alittlehinkyDespite his leg braces and mild infirmity, Cricket is inclined to walk everywhere. He works on cars, he knows cars top-to-bottom, but he doesn't own one, and it's likely he never will. In the mountains, a bicycle is impractical, and so it's either walk or beg rides.
He prefers walking.
As such, he knows the trails around Blackwater Station as well as the Bondurants, or better. He can find the best fishing spots around the lake reliably, he knows where they keep stills, and he knows where they hunt and set snares. Today he's surprised to find evidence of someone else having been hunting on their land. Granted, boundaries up here are a little blurry. As long as the hunter isn't in danger of hurting someone or taking huge amounts of wild game, the Bondurants probably wouldn't care. In this case, though, there are a lot of traps. The kind with teeth, for catching bears and other fur animals. Forrest would not approve, not because he objects strongly to trapping, but because Jack or Howard or some customer crossing the ground drunk after closing could step into one and lose a foot.
Cricket's sprung and removed two, leaving them at the Station, and he's looking for more, as well as any sign of who might've set them. It's not his place to tell the hunter off, but Forrest sure as hell will.
It's the sounds of scuffling that lead him to the next trap, and he looks dismayed at once. This one has prey in it, and it's still alive and trying to escape. "Aw, fuck...you poor thing..."
He prefers walking.
As such, he knows the trails around Blackwater Station as well as the Bondurants, or better. He can find the best fishing spots around the lake reliably, he knows where they keep stills, and he knows where they hunt and set snares. Today he's surprised to find evidence of someone else having been hunting on their land. Granted, boundaries up here are a little blurry. As long as the hunter isn't in danger of hurting someone or taking huge amounts of wild game, the Bondurants probably wouldn't care. In this case, though, there are a lot of traps. The kind with teeth, for catching bears and other fur animals. Forrest would not approve, not because he objects strongly to trapping, but because Jack or Howard or some customer crossing the ground drunk after closing could step into one and lose a foot.
Cricket's sprung and removed two, leaving them at the Station, and he's looking for more, as well as any sign of who might've set them. It's not his place to tell the hunter off, but Forrest sure as hell will.
It's the sounds of scuffling that lead him to the next trap, and he looks dismayed at once. This one has prey in it, and it's still alive and trying to escape. "Aw, fuck...you poor thing..."
no subject
Date: 2019-10-25 06:32 pm (UTC)He must be hungry.
He begins by tucking a towel under the wounded foot and then just cleaning it up with cool water, hoping to ease some of the inflammation. "Aunt Winnie ain't quite right in the head," he explains as he works, callused hands gentle and slow. "Just age, I guess. She needs me to take care of her an' make sure she eats and gets a bath and all of that. She mostly raised me so it's only fair. Just gets lonely when it's just me and her and all she wants to talk about is thinkin' someone in the woods is waiting to steal from her. Like we got anything to steal in the first place."
"I got friends, I just can't be around 'em all the time." Pausing in the cleansing, he holds out his hand to let the fox sniff it, half hoping he'll be allowed to scratch behind its ears.