WHO: Rocket & Gretel. WHERE: In town, at one of the pubs. WHAT: Rocket is.. conflicted, after an unexpected discovery. RATING PG-13 for language and a brief mention of gore. STATUS: completed.
Throughout his life, short as it is, Rocket has seen a great number of things ranging from the rather mild to the extreme. There were some sights that were better left unseen, as though that were possible. What he’d just discovered a little over an hour ago, was a sight that he was doing his best to forget about. To prove that it can be done, and what was better than him getting blind-drunk?
Rocket had had the luck to help Gretel find her brother. That is, his skills were proven useful in some way, although most of the work was attributed to Gretel herself. He wanted to take the credit, though, because it gave him something to think about. Finding someone’s lost brother was worth his time, on account of the reward Gretel had promised him. He just didn’t think the search would involve finding a couple of bloodied animal corpses.
If it had just been a natural death, Rocket wouldn’t have been affected so much. The animals had been skinned— and Rocket hadn’t stayed around long enough to know if the animals had still been alive when they were mutilated. All it took was the smell of blood and one brief look for him to turn around and leave Gretel behind, to do whatever the fuck she wanted at a time like this.
She could have taken advantage of the situation, and taken the corpses for food. She had killed one animal before for that very reason. What difference would it make to her, if the animal was already dead? Rocket wasn’t foolish enough to truly believe that she’d let this opportunity pass. Humies were known to take whatever they wanted, with little or no regard of what other people witnessed.
So, not quite feeling comfortable with the state of things, Rocket headed back to the motel, where he stayed for a few minutes, then he made a beeline for the nearest pub in town. He found a small one, wasted a bullet to shatter the front glass door, allowed himself into the place and disappeared behind the counter. The anthro raccoon gathered all the bottles that he could hold at once, and found space for himself at a table, towards the back. Or really, he made space for himself underneath the table. He was fucked if anyone was going to walk past and spot him sitting on a chair, like a Humie. The last thing he wanted to happen was to be joined by an uninvited guest, Human or not. Even so, he had enough sense to leave behind a note for Gretel, back at the Black Dog Motel.
The note was even cruder than his first one; this time, he’d scrawled a simple ’fuck you Humies’, and ‘don’t follow if you don’t want to get shot’. He figured that if Gretel was smart, she’d realise that Rocket’s hostility was his way of saying he didn’t want to be alone for too long. At the rate he was drinking, he’d pass out; or he’d worked himself up into such a state, that the first blurry Humie he’d see would be used for target practice.