#shiverstarter

[lymskr]

when: November 2019 where: Topping & Co. Books with: @shiverstarters / open! (shortstacks oNLY)

"–– You want some help with that?”

[grey-everette]

OPEN

Date: November 2nd Time: 9:30 PM Location: Alley Behind Buckshot Bar & Grill Status: OPEN

People are strange. They’re noisy and they smell funny and they’re very very wasteful. These are things that Grey has learned in the few weeks they’ve been in Blackrock. They don’t like people they decide, but they do like people trash. 

Their pack probably wouldn’t like this if they saw, Grey thinks as they reach down into the bowels of the dumpster. Guilt gnaws at them for that. But there’s so much food here. Most of it is still good. All of it would be wasted if Grey didn’t do this. It’s a good thing they have to remind themself as they pull out a styrofoam container, sniff it, then settle cross-legged beside the dumpster. If they eat this now they’ll need less food later. That means they won’t eat as much food in the house, which means that they won’t bother the rest of the pack. If the pack likes them more or at least dislike them less then that will make everyone happy. In the end, this will all be a good thing. 

They’re about to dig in when a door further down the alley opens. The sound sends them skittering into a corner, their slightly smelly prize clutched tightly against their chest. They say the first thing they can think of, imagining the unhappy expressions their new packmates usually make when they catch Grey doing things like this. “I’m sorry.”

[grey-everette]

OPEN || COLD SNAP

Time: Late Night, December 1st Location: Topping  & Co. Books Status: OPEN

It’s cold outside. 

Normally that would be a good thing. Grey likes the complexity of their two-legged form in short bursts but by the end of fall their body is usually singing for its return to the freedom that four-legs provide them. But normally Grey would already be far out in the forest for winter. Right now they are inside of Topping and Co. staring nervously out at the slowly emptying main street of Blackrock, Montana. This is not good. They hadn’t expected the cold snap when they left this morning and they aren’t prepared for it at all. Their jacket isn’t thick enough and they’re stuck in Topping and Co. until the morning sun warms the air enough that they can run home. Grey’s resigning themself to a night spent curled among dusty blocks of paper when someone pushes open the door. They’re hit by a wave of cold that crawls beneath their skin and slowly starts to push the two-leg parts of them out of place and they’ve got to swallow back a growl as they edge closer to the radiator. “S-sorry,” they manage, teeth chattering, and oh, they really do hope that the clicking is just chattering and not their jaw slowly shifting position. “We’re c-closed. Can you shut the door?”