Cross the road
Spotting your chance, you swerve without warning across the road, dodging cars unapologetically. A hawk of some kind in a day-glow yellow vest drills a trench into the blocked off work area, the vibrations rendering you unsteady at such close range. There is a frustrated howl somewhere to your rear and a flash of triumph gives you courage to jump over the bird’s ditch, laughing wildly at his surprised squawk. He likely hadn’t expected to encounter a civilian, if that is what you are, in his area, but doesn’t give chase, which you are thankful for. The other workers flap their arms at you as you weave behind cement carriers and a digging machine, hoping that the dogs are unable to utilize a stronger sense of smell as anthros. There is no way that they will have been able to maintain sight of you in this havoc!
As you round a bright orange cone, you almost career muzzle first into the same fox from earlier. He stands quite still and meets your supposedly white-rimmed eyes with a level gaze, a deep-set hunger lurking in the depths. It seems unusual that you should feel so much from another through the link of a brief glance, but you swallow your fear and veer around him. Adrenaline boosts your speed as two of the more persistent dogs — mutts from the look of them — yelp upon rediscovering you.
Ah...hell...
Written by Amethyst Mare on 16 June 2013
