Foxy times
Pad pad pad pad pad pad pad.
Soft sounds. Barely audible tiny hairs under her feet, keeping all warm.
Her ears twitch, everything is loud and surrounding her everywhere. There are loud footsteps and scritches of insects and quieter footsteps and heartbeats fast and slow and everyone and everything was taller and didn’t care.
It was warm, very warm, too. Nice. Very nice, but not something she could do. Warm was wron and strange and so she ran down the stairs in the shadows, where it was colder and smelled different and there were less noises.
Going away from the noises was good. Peaceful.
Her nose led her around, er ears swivelled without her say-so, everything bright was blurry, the dark worked. A little. There were actual steps, there.
The corridors were mostly dark, and it became quieter. Much quieter. And a corner was good for resting.
She curled into a ball, tail wrapped around her, and closed her eyes.
There were still a lot of noises. Each made sense, though. And she had an overview of the area. Slowly closing her eyes, she drifted off.
Until a LOUD clanking noise woke her.
A clanking noise and laughter. She stood and ran. Limbs stretched out and claws rapping on the floor, simply following her nose.
Corners and edges and doors flew by until she stood in front of a door, a heartbeat behind. She scratched at the door, insistently.
There were more noises inside. And the door creaked. Opened.
She chittered.
And rubbed against the big being’s leg when she slinked inside.
Good smell, safe smell, good place.
She jumped up and curled into a ball. Yes. Good place. Sleep now.
