Harley looked around the room, but she already knew she wasn't going to see Bud and Lou anywhere nearby. If they were in the room, they'd be right next to her if they weren't asleep. And if they were asleep, she'd hear 'em snoring. They weren't exactly dainty. And they weren't exactly here neither. But they had to be close by, or why else would the hotel give her leashes to control them? Maybe they were kenneled? Oh, they'd hate that.
She pulled on the first clothing she found, a pair of cut off shorts and a cute red and black t-shirt, then pulled her hair into two sloppy pigtails. There was no time for a shower, she needed to find her babies before they completely destroyed whatever kennels they were in. Not that she cared about the damage to the kennels, but the last time they'd tried to stick 'em in those hard plastic boxes with the bars on the doors and the hyenas had chewed their way through the plastic. Made them sick for days, and Harl wasn't all that partial to cleaning up hyena puke.
She only paused long enough to grab the leashes from the gift basket, memorize the room number (there was still stuff in the room she wanted), then she dashed down the hall and into the stairwell. Elevators would be too slow. With a combination of tumbles, handsprings, back flips and a few slides down the bannisters, she was on the ground floor in no time at all. Harley tore through the lobby, leads clutched tightly in her hand, screaming for her babies at the top of her lungs in a voice that could bend metal.
Nothin'.
She should have heard them making their distinctive whoops by now. Those were the calls hyenas used when they were out of sight of one another. And to Bud and Lou, she was the matriarchal hyena. Why weren't they calling for her attention? Maybe they hadn't heard her. Sucking in a huge lungful of air, Harley belted out at the top of her lungs: