The Universe's Mixer

Firekeeper and Blind Seer had finally begun to settle down in this strange new place. They were still seized by the occasional moment of homesickness and longing for friends, but they accepted it with wolf-like pragmatism. They contented themselves with filling their bellies with any number of prey (as well as fruits and vegetables, in Firekeeper's case) and exploring the length and breadth of the park that they were now calling home. They rarely set so much as a few steps outside of the boundaries, though; there was still too much overwhelming strangeness that lay beyond.

But slowly, curiosity began to overtake the fear, particularly for Firekeeper. Slowly, their explorations began to lead ever so slightly further outside into the paved and unnatural world beyond the park. There were still any number of awful smells and sounds (to say nothing of the sheer alienness of it all), but the two were becoming accustomed to no longer sprinting for the nearest cover at the first sign of anything new. "Tomorrow," Firekeeper told Blind Seer one evening as they crouched behind a tree and watched the strange moving things on the road. "Tomorrow I think I will try to stay among the chaos of these two-legs for longer than a handful of steps."

Blind Seer chewed thoughtfully on his foot. "If that is your wish, then I shall accompany you as ever, dear heart. Far be it from me to leave a strange hairless wolf like yourself alone and defenseless in this strange city."

She thumped him soundly on a flank and he mouthed her arm gently in return, affectionate as siblings, and they rose as one and ran past some surprised passerby out for an evening walk. When they returned to the bridge that had been acting as their den, they were surprised to find a small bundle waiting for them, though they neither saw nor smelled anybody around. It was a set of clothes, of the type that they had seen the residents of the city wearing: trousers of a sturdy blue cloth that cut off slightly below the knee and a cloth shirt of a lighter material. Firekeeper frowned thoughtfully; they were nowhere near sturdy enough to wear for any long stretch in this forest, as active as she was, but it might be enough to blend in better out there...

She glanced over at Blind Seer, whose hackles were still up despite (or more precisely because of) the lack of any trace of an intruder. Perhaps blending is a lost cause, but if it helps...

The next afternoon, rested and fed, the two cautiously made their way out of the park. They couldn't help wincing at some of the new sounds and sights, but they didn't run. Yet.