FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Rain water slithered down the large, sloping window overlooking the booth in which the two rodents sat. Ordinarily, Spencer's attempt at charity for Ely in the form of gifts were kind but misguided gestures. This time, however, the squirrel had given his rat friend a gift he could use - a gift card for the Blue Shed Restaurant and Bakery; something Ely could use to provide he and his mother with a quality, free meal. Spencer had loaded twenty-five onto the card, which Ely had initially hoped would get he and his mother each two meals on two separate occasions; he was basically familiar with the prices of value-menu items at fast food chains, as well as the premium items they never sprung for. These actual restaurant prices had surprised him...realistically, this would only be a one-time deal. But at least they had a reason to go ahead and get the nicer looking plates. The establishment was nearly empty, just a few other tables seated. Understandable for a dreary week day around two o'clock P.M.

It was true, they looked out of place. Ely had worn a pair of full-length jeans this time, along with his least-holey, red T-shirt for the occasion. His mother wasn't dressed a lot differently in her grey jeans, and a very wrinkled white shirt she had unearthed from the apartment. Beside her sat the hoodie she'd worn into the rain. Rats paying for a decent plate of food...it was enough for the mouse who had served them their water glasses to steal a few cautious glances. Mice were cute and sweet so long as you were similar in nature...of course, they'd never say a word about it...whatever, Ely really had no gripe with him. He wasn't that different from the others; not so different from the guys and girls behind the counter.

Mother and son glanced over the menus carefully - they had to make this count. Ely's focus on what meal to get was isolated to the entrees which featured corresponding pictures. A lot of the egg dishes looked good, and breakfast was served all day...but the mashed potatoes looked pretty good, Ely loved when they served the same thing at school, even if the other kids disagreed. And surely this stuff would be even better.

"Are you all ready to order yet?" interrogated the grey-furred mouse who had sneaked his way back over to the table. His pink tail snaked around behind him while his nose twitched at this or that.

Both rats looked up at him, taking in his polite smile and clasped paws resting upon the apron he wore. His ears pivoted around on his head, his whiskers twitched. These things move around too much.

"No," responded Ely, keeping concise.

"Okey-dokey, well just let me know when you're ready and I'll get you all set up, 'kay?"

"Okay," the rat agreed, his soft voice slightly more matured than the adult mouse's child-like vocals.

The smaller rodent scurried away and Ely went back to choosing this month's special meal. Fish...fish didn't seem bad. The 'big catch' dish had all kinds of seafood on it...he liked seafood. Across the table which separated them, the female rat stared closely at the laminated list of meals, tilting her head, widening and squinting her eyes, licking and biting her lips in frustration. This had not been lost on Ely, who had decided to see how it would go. But it was clear she was struggling. There seemed no need to make her needlessly face the reality that she was barely literate.

"Mama, you should...you should get this," suggested Ely, laying his menu flat and pointing to a meal consisting of eggs between biscuit halves, breakfast potatoes and sausage.

"O-oh...." The mother rat searched her menu for the appropriate picture of food. Upon locating it, Danny gave a clumsy nod. "Yeah...yeah, okay."

They had passed that obstacle, but the dish he had decided on for her was cheap...for this place...he knew they probably couldn't do this twice on the one card, so he wanted to do his best to fill it out. The Big Catch would do it. He could share with his mother too, and they'd probably let them take the leftovers home...the perfect plan.

The menus were flat against the table now, as Ely stared toward the mouse who chatted lightly behind the counter. Is he supposed to call for him...raise his paw? Or just wait...he said to say when they were ready, but what does that mean, exactly...oh, here he comes, now.

"All set?" asked the appropriately pleasant mouse.

"Yeah," answered Ely, now noticing the name tag which read 'Jamie.' "I'm gonna get...this. The...Big Catch thing."

"Excellent choice," the mouse congratulated, before looking to Danny. "And you?"

"Oh, um...I...I'm getting, uh...." The female rat picked her menu back up, looking for the picture she'd decided on, earlier.

"Right here, Mama," Ely aided, pointing to the picture again. "She's getting this."

"Alrighty, and you said no drinks?"

Ely shook his head.

The mouse waiter finished recording the orders on his pad, before scooping up the menus. "Great, we'll have those for you it just a little bit!"

And there he goes, thought Ely as he now settled in to find something to do during the wait. He hadn't brought his skateboard on the bus with him as he didn't want to leave his mother alone, inside, otherwise he could have done that for a few moments. Some people had phones, or little games or whatever...they looked neat, but Ely couldn't afford those things. Spencer had once showed Ely a hand-held game system with a skating game loaded inside. The little graphics amused the rat but he wasn't very good at the game. 'That's like, basically the only time I'll ever see you fall!' Spencer had joked.

Eventually the eyes of the two rats met, and they would stare at each other for a while. A common rat behavior, acknowledgment of the other's presence, but no idle chatter, at least not much. Danny would blink her blue eyes as Ely watched the piercing protruding from her left brow bounce down, then up again. Did that hurt, he'd often wonder? The ones in her ears seemed like they'd be palatable, but just above the eye seemed like it would hurt...the younger rat began pinching at his eyebrow, not considering that it may have looked a bit strange.

Not too sensitive, actually...guess it wouldn't be that bad.

"Wh-who's that friend you know?" Danny asked, breaking the silence. "Simon?"

"Spencer."

"Oh...a-and he gave you that card?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

Then, again, silence. Ely looked back out the the window, watching more water run down the glass. A lot of people lamented rainy days, but Ely enjoyed them. The pitter-patter was relaxing, and the sight of water falling to the earth was a more soothing visual than the usual backdrop of hot pavement.

Danny's leg twitched up and down beneath the table, her rodent nature keeping her in a constant state of motion in some capacity. Her eyes darted from left to right at a fairly frequent pace. She knew there were others here, but only a few. They probably didn't want anything with her, anyway...probably not. But she'd still keep a constant account of their positions. She'd caught sight of the bakery case beneath the main counter. Fancy cakes and decorated cupcakes filled out the glass box from end to end. They looked tasty...she'd never really had anything like that before. Those things were for...other people. Today would be no different, they only had the one card. No use in continuing to look, then.

A small, greenish beetle hobbled along the window sill to the left of Ely, catching the young skater's attention. The grey-patched face of the rodent zoomed in for a closer look. Whatever light able to permeate the blanket of rain clouds streamed in through the window, reflecting off of the shiny body of the insect. Ely tilted his head as he focused on every detail of the bug. Danny caught sight of Ely's enchantment and followed his eyes to the source. Her son was merely captivated by yet another bug, she realized before going back to making sure nobody was coming too close, too fast.

Ely attempted to get the beetle to climb aboard his pink-skinned finger, but it was a no-sale this time, the insect taking every possible detour to avoid the rat's paws. Must have been great to be a little bug like this, you could just waltz right into a fancy, air-conditioned place like this and hang out until you were ready to leave. Of course, people might try to smash you, especially kids...but if you kept out of sight, you could basically stay as long as you wanted. You could go anywhere, in fact. If you didn't like your current home you could just fly to a new one in the nice part of town where people smile because they think they have to. He could make his home right under a mailbox and watch them get their catalogs and paychecks which could buy ten Big Catch's every day if they wanted. Unless this bug couldn't fly. Then he'd have to walk there.

The beetle managed to fill out the interim and before he knew it, Ely's plate of food was being set down in front of him.

"Here we are," the mouse said with friendly enthusiasm, providing Danny with her meal a second later. "You guys enjoy, 'kay?"

"Thanks," Ely offered softly, remembering social etiquette on this occasion. He didn't usually have many opportunities to practice.

The waiter nodded toward the young rat. "You got it!"

The mouse scurried away, and the mother and son were left alone with their respective meals. There was a variety of items to be seen on Ely's plate and the rat looked over carefully, studying each thing. Aside from knowing it was all kinds of seafood, Ely was unable to identify many of the varied components of the meal. These thin, stick like things...what are they...some kind of fish stick? Well probably, it's all fish, isn't it?

Across the glossy table, Danny studied her food as well, looking over the scrambled eggs which were sandwiched between the biscuits. The triangular potatoes were new to her. Danny leaned down and sniffed at that plate...seems alright...nestled between the potatoes and egg sandwiches were 3 sausage links. A lot of rodents wouldn't usually be interested in this kind of meat, but rats tended to be less picky. Danny wasn't usually much of an eater, which was good as it wasn't a daily guarantee, but on this occasion she'd embrace the hearty meal.

Ely crunched cautiously on the...stick things. The consistency inside of them was weird, but they tasted alright. He could crunch on a few more. The cod portions looked pretty good. And the breaded shrimp...he'd never had shrimp before. This would be quite a meal.

The mother rat picked up one of the breakfast potato wedges, giving it another sniff. With nothing appearing to be amiss, she nibbled at one end of the morsel. Her son watched as she chewed at the small piece of food with quick, chattering bites. When the chewing stopped she took a moment to look over the potato wedge again before popping the rest of it into her mouth, seeming to approve of it. She picked a few more off of her plate, rather enjoying the spices and crunchy texture of these potatoes. She'd forgotten about her silverware wrapped up in the napkin next to her glass of water. Ely considered reminding her but...what was she hurting? Perhaps whoever might be watching them eat might have been unimpressed but it would take more than a fork and knife to change their minds about the two rats, anyway.

It wouldn't be accurate to call it entirely unfair, though. Ely himself wasn't free of immoral activity. He'd lifted a thing or two from the stores when times grew desperate. Chips...crackers...food. Something he was more prone to doing in his younger days. After a while, the potential for incarceration no longer seemed a worthwhile risk. Danny was best not left alone with herself, and eventually they'd discovered the food bags those churches gave out.

Ely, however, did unfurl his silverware, figuring on taking a fork to one of the cod portions. Removing a piece from the end of one of them, he sniffed it, liking the initial sense. A few bites later and he had discovered it was pretty good, although he could have done with more flavor. His plate of fish had come with a little side cup of tartar sauce, which he only recognized due to the same sauce being available at school. He tried another piece this time with the sauce. It wasn't bad.

While Danny continued with her potatoes, Ely had tossed a few of the stick things on her plate, doing so without saying a word, a common thing between the two. He'd ordered much more food after all so he had some to share. It was unlikely that the rodents would finish everything on their elliptical, white plates. Ely realized that he should have asked the mouse if they could get something in which to take their food home.

As with the potatoes, Danny sniffed at the battered stick-things before trying them. They were a bit strange, thankfully Ely had only put a few on her plate. Still, she returned the favor by offering her son a few potatoes, though admittedly hadn't given him as many as she could have. She was beginning to like them a lot.

The potatoes certainly weren't bad. He could see why his mother had yet to venture away from them in favor of the other items on her plate. Ely's seafood had also come with fries, which the young rat had always been a fan of. These fries were very fresh with an exquisite crunch; clearly both mother and son had ended up well off in the potato department.

Eventually Danny would try the egg biscuit sandwiches. They were okay, the eggs were a bit runny...she'd need to use the napkin beside her. Rodents nibbled more so than taking big, mighty bites so the sandwiches were a little awkward for her. Still, this was a significant step up from bags of potato chips and lunch meat stretched out over a month. The food was good but it was immediately forgotten upon the emanation of a startlingly loud sound of dishes being placed in the kitchen. Danny immediately jumped and jerked her head in the direction of the sound in an effort to confirm or dismiss potential danger. When no threat presented itself, she slowly looked back down at her food.

Ely loved shrimp. He'd only known it for the last seven seconds but it was already a timeless truth about his personality. Their springy consistency was weird, but in a good way. And the batter was pretty tasty, too. His plate only offered 4 more shrimps, but he still placed one on Danny's plate. He thought he should give her two, but...first he'd see how she liked it.

As their date continued, a party of about six people entered the restaurant, gabbing and laughing. They weren't all the same species, likely not related to one another. Regardless, the noise they brought through the door with them prompted Danny to snap her head back toward the entrance. The large group entering the establishment all at once had the female rodent huddling in nervousness as the greeter met the collection of people, preparing to seat them.

"W-where's the bathroom," Danny agitatedly asked her son. "D-do you know where the...bathroom is?"

Ely glanced to the right, and was pretty sure he could see the hallway which led to the restrooms.

"It's over there, Mama...but you don't...you don't have to go to the bathroom...remember, you didn't...bring anything?"

The mother rat cradled her head in her paws. "Yes...yes."

As they were led to their table, the group of chatty associates passed the two rats' table. Danny burying her head deeper into her arms caught the attention of...most of those who walked by. Must be having a bad day, one may have thought. Rats; always acting weird, others most likely figured. Ultimately their interest in the rat couple proved fleeting, as the group was, as expected, far more interested in their socializing. But a large, boisterous laugh at some unheard joke would bury that line of logical thinking. Yes, laughing with your friends meant nothing to anybody else, for all intents and purposes, it was nothing more than an innocent outburst during a good time.

Still, it didn't stop the female rat from jumping up from her seat and scurrying over toward the bathrooms. Ely watched her go, deciding against trying to stop her. There was only so much she could do in there, and sometimes she just needed to make some distance.

Danny entered the hall which forked off to the distinct bathrooms, pivoting her head back and forth at each door. She could at least recognize the F which denoted the female bathrooms, where she would disappear beyond the pushable door. She wasted no motion, heading right for the handicapped stall, stepping into the tiled fortress and latching the door behind her.

Out on the main floor, Ely stabbed at more of his cod, looking back out the rainy windows as he chewed his juicy fish. She had her good days and bad days; he'd go get her in five minutes or so if he had to. He crunched on another shrimp. There were too few of them to bother saving. And he'd never be able to resist them. But the rest of this, perhaps, could go home.

Danny paced back and forth inside the stall before seating herself on the commode. She rocked forward and back again, wishing she'd brought something...anything. But she had nothing, here or at home. Not until the next month, or until she could convince a male that she was worth a shot or two. At first, it seemed easy as she'd only been awake for about an hour prior to coming here. She managed to keep her head during the bus ride but just a moment ago, all of them...too many of them, standing over her, talking, laughing...too much. What did they want? Probably just to eat lunch...most of her knew that. She nibbled away at her arm, itches everywhere.

The tiles on the bathroom floor were tiny and plentiful, and it was around tile number thirty-four when Danny realized how soothing they could be. Thirty-five was even better than the last, and thirty-six didn't disappoint. Thirty-seven, thirty-eight...it's too bright in here. But that could be remedied by shutting those blue eyes, and breathing away the blinding light. The internal sound of her naturally quicker heartbeat played as the soundtrack to this impromptu meditation. In words, this was healthy, forced into keeping her mind clear before visiting the establishment. But with all the extra space, anything could get in, reside, settle down, make a home of her; a lack of control over her own being she was all too familiar with. Ely had known how to provide for himself his own meals for around six years, and for as much time, Danny had turned away from conscious thought for this very reason. But...it's just a restaurant.

"Mama?" echoed the voice of Ely through the bathroom.

Ely's head poked a small ways into the female bathroom as called for Danny. At first there would be no response. He knew she was in here, probably just caught up in herself. He continued.

"Mama?"

"Yeah...."

At that point, the teenaged rodent heard the agitated voice of one of the staff behind the counter.

"Oh shit," the uniformed raccoon muttered, looking at the rats' empty table. "They ran off, I knew it."

"Did they? Oh no," lamented the voice of the mouse waiter.

Of course Ely knew they were talking about he and his mother, after all, they were the only two in the restaurant utterly certain to leave without paying. He could have trotted out there and put their fear to rest but in a way, it was just as well to have them think they knew something. It wasn't important though, as Ely turned back toward the bathroom.

"I'm gonna see if I can get something to put the food in, then we can go."

From the stall, Danny's head turned ever so slightly toward the direction of her son's voice.

"Okay...."

The raccoon stepped out from behind the counter trotting to the front door. He pushed it open with haste, stepping into the entryway.

"Maybe I can still catch the jerks....cover for me, Jamie."

Pulling his head out of the doorway, Ely allowed the door to close, turning just in time to see the mouse waiter trotting out to see if his co-worker had any luck in bringing Ely and Danny to justice. As he turned around to head back to his post for the time being, he saw Ely standing in the entrance to the hallway.

"Oh! Hi!" giggled the surprised waiter. "Is everything alright here?"

"Yes."

"Great, that's good...oh, by the way, y-your...your...friend, is she in...the bathroom?"

"Yes."

"Oh, alright! Well um, hey, you keep enjoying your meal and I'll bring you the bill in just a sec, 'kay?"

Ely returned a blank stare for the mouse's smile. Without any additional words, he would meander back toward his table, wondering if Jamie gets a collective 'aww' when he uses a public bathroom.

Sat back into the booth, Ely glanced over the remaining food. He probably should have asked the waiter for a take-home box, but the mouse and establishment as a whole would probably feel better if they at least had the bill in front of them first. The raccoon would angrily stomp back through the main door before catching sight of Ely sitting stoically at his table. Their eyes would meet, the raccoon's expression exhibiting an amusing transition of irritated to confused. Satisfied that at least one of the rodents remained, he strafed back toward the counter.

"Bathroom," Jamie chittered quietly as the raccoon approached.

"Oh...."

Eventually, slinking out of the restroom, came Danny, her head and eyes sunk safely to the floor. Other than nearly colliding with the panel which separated some of the booths, she safely made it back to her seat, across from Ely. She was visibly confused as to why the food remained but said nothing about it, merely awaiting for the day's fate to dictate her further actions.

As promised, Jamie the Friendly Mouse returned to the table with the bill slip, ensuring the rodents knew they owed nineteen-something dollars.

"Can we get a...box for this stuff," inquired Ely in a monotonous voice.

"...Yes," answered the waiter, stretching the word out with uncertainty. "Um...yeah, okay, I'll just take these and get them boxed for you, and you can pick them up on your way out, 'kay?"

The waiter went to work scooping up the plates and scurried toward the back with them. While Ely didn't often go to restaurants like this, he was pretty sure that they'd normally let you do that, yourself. Ely watched the mouse leave with the plates, flicking his pink tail behind him. From across the table, Danny's focus followed the mouse only so far, the female rat more concentrated on taking therapeutic breaths. Her son watched her, watched her struggle where others became nourished, watched her try to hang on.

Ely was six years of age when the female rat across from him brought that skateboard home. It wasn't his birthday, neither one of them was entirely sure of the exact day. It wasn't Christmas, they barely observed holidays. It was Thursday. They lived in a different building, on a slightly nicer side of the city. Danny was...more in the game back then. She'd leave their home for a variety of reasons, some unknown to Ely. Despite his tender age, he was left home on his own much of the time, Danny often blocking the apartment door in some way to prevent him from leaving. To the casual observer this would seem cruel, but Ely never interpreted it as an act of malice or hostility. It wasn't. The mother rodent merely tried to ensure her son remained safe while she was out, before returning a short while later with food, maybe some modest clothing, or sometimes just money.

In the interim, Ely would doodle, try his paws at little pictures; himself, his mother, sometimes the neighbors. The renderings could be found in old notebooks, on junk mail, or, yes, sometimes on the walls. These were the kinds of things they did in school, this and the writing, the little rat would engage in these projects even at home, with little else to keep him distracted. Danny rarely gave Ely any kind of strict direction, other than the usual safety precautions, but in her youthful lucidity she stressed the importance of education - the one, free thing the young boy had coming to him that would ever give him a chance.

But a boy needs to do more than draw on the walls of a locked room, more than putting together three letter words to form an idea that nobody heard. On a Thursday afternoon Danny opened the apartment door and called for her son. The little boy would emerge from whatever hovel he'd made for himself that day and stand at his mother's feet. In her right paw, she gripped a lightly used skateboard by the wheels. The silent exchange saw the female rat relinquish the board into the paws of Ely, who looked it over with wonder. These things...he'd seen these things. Kids with...more, had these things. Where did she get it? Well...he didn't ask. He never asked. But for the weeks following, she'd watch him learn it, sit on the stairs as he rode it, and pick him up when it hurt him.

The rat across the table tried so hard for as long as she could. And now it was time to take her home.

Ely slid from his booth and rose to his feet, which prompted Danny to cautiously follow, picking up her hoodie and putting it back on. As they did this Ely remembered that, apparently, it was expected to leave some kind of tip. They'd never left a tip before. It wasn't...practical, for them. Ely stared toward the guys behind the counter. He glanced down to the table.

"Mama, go ahead and go over there, I'll be there in a second."

The reluctance on Danny's face was clear, going to stand alone near the unknowns, but...she'd do it. He wouldn't be long, he never was.

As his mother slowly moved for the counter, Ely withdrew his wallet from his right pocket and looked inside. There were two dollar-bills inside, one he'd already had, and another, crumbled dollar he'd found on the bus ride here. A mental shrug. Why not...wasn't his. After taking the crumbled dollar from his wallet, he buried his left paw in the other pocket, and a black marker emerged a moment later. He plucked the white napkin from under his unused silverware.

Danny stood alone, looking at the floor, trying not to call attention to herself. A moment later her son would return to her, saving her from being cornered by her thoughts. With no line, Ely and Danny were able to stroll right up to the register. Jamie returned with their boxed food, and with the other employee busy with a couple that had just come in, the little mouse would ring them up too.

"Okay, that was...$24.38."

Ely handed over the card.

"Oh, a gift card!" the mouse realized before taking it and scanning it in.

Yeah, now it all makes sense, thought Ely.

"Okay so...there's sixty-two cents left on the card. Would you like to recharge it?"

A shake of the head.

"Would you like it back?"

Again, no.

"No," confirmed the mouse, before snapping and disposing of the card. He then handed the receipt to Ely. "Okey-dokey, here's your receipt, on the bottom there's a link to our online survey, if you decide to take it you'll get a coupon for two free drinks."

Ely looked at the receipt for a moment before glancing back up at the mouse. He'd get an uncertain smile in return before he'd grab the food and turn to leave with Danny. As they left, Jamie would offer them a final "thank you," as he watched them step out the front door.

Once outside, the two rats walked through the parking lot toward the sidewalk. It was still sprinkling a bit outside, but the cool touch of water wasn't so bad. Ely situated the boxes into one arm and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a half pack of cigarettes, handing them over to the trepidatious Danny. Upon seeing them in front of her, she wasted no time in taking the smokes and opening the pack, the orange lighter already being inside. A few sparks later, and she could already feel her nerves settling into rest. It definitely sucked that she couldn't smoke inside.

Vehicles whisked by on the rain-slicked street. Puddles gathered in the dips in the sidewalk. The sky was grey, neutral to any and all events taking place below. Danny blew smoke out into the damp air, the smell being a familiar, almost comforting one for Ely. The cigarettes were good for the five or ten minutes she'd decided against something heavier. Not that they were without hazard. Ely tried a cigarette a few years prior. They tasted awful, and that was that. No amount of smoking would endear him to the others, so his teenaged motivations to continue essentially ended there. Similar with beer, he'd taken a sip of one of Danny's bottles when he was young. Again, tasted terrible. He didn't understand how she and others could go at it for years but he didn't have to understand. He could be pretty sure that it had little to do with flavor. But for all of their hardships, the young adult rat had nothing to forget. It was stagnant but manageable.

The mother rat continued her cigarette as they halted at the bus stop. She inhaled more quickly now, knowing she'd be unable to take it onto the bus with her. She tented the stick with her fleshy paw, protecting it from the misty rain. With a glance to the left, the female saw a squad car pull to a stop at the corner. They looked once. Then twice. For these two, it was always twice. The glance of law enforcement always inflamed the nerves of the 36-year old. Of course, she could have been any rat, and decades ago she was less than even that. But even with that in mind here at the bus stop, in the rain, near the cops, she was nervous. But that didn't matter. All that mattered is that you didn't look nervous. And that didn't entirely matter as they were more interested in looking her son up and down.

Ely never gave them an ounce, with his stoic pose, arms at his sides, eyes forward. Bodily motion remained relegated to his fingers and tail, outlets for is preyish energy. The blackness of his eyes allowed him to glance their way without them really knowing. Eventually their light turned green and they were off to help somebody in need, surely. The rain continued. With no jacket of his own, his red tee just absorbed the moisture, some of the water beading and falling from his whiskers. After enough moments, the long-bodied vehicle for which they waited made its stop in front of them. Danny put out the cigarette and the two rats boarded.

Jamie pitter-pattered over to the table, looking to see if anything needed cleaning or resituating. The water glasses and silverware needed to be collected. As he would begin this task he noticed the green bill under the water glass, along with a note written on a napkin. He lifted the cup and removed the money. A dollar. He brought the napkin to his eyes, as he read the roughly written words:

For being a

mouse.

-From

the rats.

Ely and Danny both looked toward the floor of the bus, sitting quietly in their seats toward the front which faced inward toward the aisle. The shuttle was rather full, taking on many people who lost their car, can't afford a car, lost their license...something like that. Ely's fur was slightly matted from the dampness, groups of fibers sticking together, creating a field of broad, "pointy" fur over the rat's body. Beside him, Danny's hood was pulled over her eyes, and to the unfamiliar viewer, she appeared calm and even calculated, only an emotionless muzzle visible from her shroud. Underneath her mind thought fondly of that cigarette. Normally, once they were home, she wouldn't have to settle for that.

It seemed like everybody on the bus looked the same, their heads bobbing lightly as the wheels crossed undulating old roads, staring into undefined air, with or without their music players. Perhaps a few of their eyes rolled over to the windows, watching buildings they'd never been inside of fly by. Some of them were rats, not fancy rats even, grey, broad-faced, scarier rats whom had as much space as they wanted. Yet...some were foxes, clearly disenchanted with ending up here. A couple squirrels, always lots of squirrels in the city. Even though the rabbits wanted to be better than the bus lines, there looked to be a couple toward the back. There was even a mouse.

Maybe one or more of them has it better but got into a wreck. Maybe they're all just filling out this side of the city, making that number on the highway sign just a little more impressive. Maybe a few of them just can't drive. Foxes, rats, squirrels, mice, rabbit...they don't eat together, but here, they can ride together. The foxes and rabbits wanted more, the squirrels were making the best of it, the rats like the AC, and the mouse...he looks a little nervous. But they're all here.

Yes, they're all the same here. Regardless of what they were out there in the rain, here, everyone's just somebody without a car.

With the price of the ride to your place and back, I could just lift some chips from the corner cat instead and keep the change. Your fish was alright but I wouldn't want to run with it. Your just doing your job mouse, and that's good because everyone else had your eyes and the only one scared of them was mom. I know we won't change anything, we were probably just weird but that's okay because you were all exactly the same. Enjoy your dollar, with 8 more cents you can buy a burger.