Meadowlark Prairie egregious, made a dude want to find jesus

wherein i discover i have never really pinned down a steady personality for him, NOT THAT IT MATTERS BECAUSE AFTER THIS I HAVE TO WRITE A DEATH THREAD W/E #YOLO

"Meh, this place sucks," he said suddenly, of course to no one in particular. While the expanse of valley is obviously teeming with others, Rickshaw hadn't the best luck in finding them. Or being found, which of course he didn't want to be found. At least not necessarily; another coyote would have been all right, but he didn't want to go toe to toe with some moronic ursine thinking he was tonight's free hot meal.

He didn't get to dwell on his thoughts about how little he thought of the place, because there was one sound that found itself captured in his satellite dish sized ears — crunchy. Crunchy? Definitely crunchy — and there it was: a fox. The splash of obnoxious orange against the backdrop of such bleak and uninspiring seasonal colors was hard to miss. If Rickshaw was a heat-seeking missile, the fox was definitely a target.

His jaws unhinged to make sound, though for a moment nothing out than the silent and dumbfounded display he was making. Looking nothing short of a rubbernecking loon, he clicked his jaws shut and came forward rough, stomping through the wilted brush with curiosity written clear as day across his features. "Hey, foxy!" he catcalled. "Boy are you a sight for sore eyes!" In fact, she burned the ever loving fuck out of his.

"Where you goin' with them dark socks, lady?" And Christ Almighty he hoped she wouldn't bolt.

She probably would, though.