Foxy foxy

Fleetscut had never really had any time for such things as gossip. Sure he carried his own share when it was warranted. He also filed things away for later if he should like to bring it up or invent a story based on it. It was the way with him. He was an interesting fellow to say the least. It was okay though, he liked himself that way.

He heard some Hi' and hey you's on the wind and his humming stopped for him to listen better. He turned his head towards the sound, his ears tilting towards it. 'ello dere dawlin'. What brings youse out 'ere like dat?