Who: Rascal and OTA who is at the Haven. Multiple replies encouraged. What: Rascal is doing laundry the only way that doesn't go haywire for him and ends up talking to (whoever) When: Sunday afternoon Where: Haven grounds near a small grove of trees he is using to hang his clothes to dry. Warnings: None at the moment Complete
The weather was magnificent, really. It was the kind of weather that had most everyone starting to bring out their winter coats but for Rascal what it meant was the occasional, uncontrolled splotches of fur that would appear if he didn't wear a coat himself. But really, what use was a good coat if he could keep his arms covered in a thick layer of instant warmth? So he did without it but there was certainly a downside.
The fur that rippled up his arms itched a bit and he wondered if he needed to be treated for fleas again. Rascal knew he wasn't getting them from any of the residents but his constant strolls through Craven and the wooded areas of the Haven were probably doing the damage. Ah, well, it was a simple fix. Flea shampoo, though the smell was... not pleasant and it was easy to understand why he wore cologne as much as he did when he was constantly smelling like a damned barnyard animal.
His fingers, normal as could be, scratched up along the bulky, brown fur covered bear arms he was supporting up to his shoulder. Then, he went back to work by plucking down a few dried shirts and jeans from the his line to make room for the wet clothes he had just washed. He would've asked one of the girls for help but he hated being anything but self reliant, so he did things the hard way and avoided the washer and dryer like they were the plague.
It was as he was folding his last pair of jeans that he heard the approach of another, and he turned to greet them, feet shuffling awkward as from the calves down he was sporting bear paws.