It is the banging and shouts that so readily draws the curiosity of the young man whom lingers within the depths of his own nearby alleyway, curious dark eyes turned to peer towards the commotion beneath lashings of ebony hair that fall and tangle within his eyes. It is rare to witness his own human form, the boy so very near incapable in his human skin and yet even he cannot remain an animal forever, some desires require the use of fingers and thumbs and indeed, opening trash cans in search of anything reminiscent of food is one such task. These streets, he has learned, often have the most abundant unwanted food, the rich willing to throw out far more then the poor in other parts of town and yet it is not without danger that the Were-boy lingers. These area of town is home to far more Hunters then any other, past experience having taught him indeed that they are unwilling to tolerate his presence, particularly in his Were form and as such the dishevelled creature retains his human guise- at least for now.




The sudden sight of the fox however, readily captures his attention as he moves to hook his fingers over the guttering of a nearby roof, hoisting himself up readily and atop the tiles with the cat-like ease that bleeds into his human form. His hands move to tuck into his jeans pocket, the threadbare pants the only true possession he retains as he wanders barefoot atop the roof, his own unique talents assuring the foxy female is readily within his sights, his ability to find what seeks to hide leading him readily towards her as he peers back down and into the alleyway. The fox rests beneath him, oblivious, it would seem, to the barefooted boy in his threadbare jeans and lacking a shirt entirely that peers down with chocolate eyes atop her. His attention readily shifts to the sausages she holds, tongue licking across his lips in some semblance of his own hunger and yet, it would seem that it is not the meal that so holds his attention this day- but the fox itself.




"Oooh, pretty!"




He moves suddenly, landing atop a pile of old boxes beside her, reaching down to snatch at her scruff and hoist the unfortunate girl up into the air- and into his arms. He is not a gentle creature, his often volatile, violent nature allowing little to no emotion to bleed into his human form. He is the animal, in every sense of the word and yet the russet hued creature he clings to seems to have stirred an entirely different side of the skinny young man into being, the girl clutched suddenly to his warm, bare chest as if he holds a kitten, entirely oblivious to the fact she may not appreciate being....cuddled. He likes the feel of her fur against his skin, content to press her closer still, holding her firmly in one hand, the other lifting to run through her thick pelt, long fingers gently brushing through the thickened red and white fur he seems to so utterly adore, his fractured mind clearly working upon an entirely different level in these moments, oblivious to anything save his desire to continue to stroke his new pet.




He moves to adjust his position slightly, the young man folding his long limbs beneath himself as he sits atop his pile of crushed boxes and crates, still clinging to the no doubt terrified WereFox. He is entirely aware she is female and a Were and yet this seems entirely inconsequential, his mind having formed a sudden obsessive need to hang on to her, though why cannot be said, clearly finding fascination in her small, soft form before he reaches to grab the sausages from her mouth, pulling free what he can. He shifts again now, tucking the Fox underneath his arm the way a woman does a handbag, clearly content to simply....carry her around as he leaps from the boxes and bites into the first sausage, the raw meat evidently of no bother as he chews, heading for the mouth of the alleyway once more, his new pet still in his arms as he rips into the second sausage with all the savage fury of the predator he is.




That he walks barefoot, bare-chested, eating raw meat with a fox under his arm hardly seems to register, the boy clearly unable to see anything wrong with this picture as he shakes wild hair from those untamed eyes once more, boyish grin offered to his newly abducted friend as he looks down towards her, stepping back out and onto the street.




"I think...I will keep you."




Insanity evidently, is his most obvious attribute.

madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push