Firekeeper and Blind Seer (i_howl) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2009-01-12 12:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | blind seer, charlie crews, firekeeper |
Despite all appearances, not really homeless. (Open!)
The den under the bridge in the park had been temporarily abandoned. It wasn't that Firekeeper couldn't stand cold weather--she was quite used to it, in fact, and had survived much more frigid winters than this one--but she was near somewhere that was warm with plentiful food and she decided to take the opportunity to be comfortable.
Was trying to take it, in any case. There weren't many places that allowed wolves as big as small ponies.
She gathered up her injured dignity after the third deli owner saw the pair out (both for Blind Seer's presence and for Firekeeper's shoeless state) and stopped looking in the brightly lit restaurants. Blind Seer advised her against threatening the people who told her in no uncertain terms that they didn't allow vagrants with dogs inside their stores, and she had to reluctantly agree. There was no Derian here to translate the bigger picture for her, no Elise to diplomatically smooth raised hackles.
Food was less of a problem than shelter, though at first both she and Blind Seer were reluctant to scavenge like vultures. Eventually Blind Seer's stomach got the best of him and with a silent shrug and a wolf proverb about not overlooking what was right in front of them he made himself a meal of still-warm hamburgers from behind a fast-food place. "Not entirely meat," he told her, sniffing delicately at it, "but enough for a full belly tonight." Firekeeper had held out for only a little longer before joining suit. That was the first night that somebody had handed Firekeeper a dollar on the street. She started to ask why, but whoever handed her the scrap of greenish, smelly paper didn't seem too inclined to interact with her and hurried on their way. So she shrugged and pocketed it and accepted it as just another new, strange custom that these new, strange two-legs kept.
So today, a week later, she sat on the stoop of an apartment building just down the street from a cafe, enjoying the sounds of somebody's guitar as Blind Seer slept, her feet tucked under his belly fur to keep warm. It wasn't a castle, but neither was it starving in the middle of a mountain forest. Life was good.