Re: First floor: 2:15 a.m.
He'd gotten about halfway out onto the fire escape before the sheer strangeness of the surface under his paws had made him look down. And down, and down. He wasn't afraid, but it did make him cautious. He hadn't realized how high up they were, impossibly high, mountain high, and when you'd been raised in a forest...
No, that wasn't right. He looked at the space between the two fire escapes and growled. He wanted to try jumping it but wasn't foolish enough to do so. No prey was worth leaping to his death. Not even this one. He paced a little, teeth bared, trying to decide what to do, growling low. He couldn't just give up. And she wouldn't believe him if he feigned the tame, innocent dog again. Meanwhile, her voice tugged at all the strange, unsettling sensations of familiarity that had been teasing at him all night. It was confusing, and a little frightening--he had a feeling that pain was there, if he tried too hard to puzzle it out, and he shied away from the potential sting, an animal reflex.