papetoonvulpineâ:
      There they were again, it was becoming routine for them. Somehow theyâd found common ground once again in the rift left by their conjoined stupidity. How odd, or notâperhaps expectedâthat Falco held his delicate thoughts where none could see. It was safer that way, it was safer to front the air of indifference. No, heâd not said thatâbut it was easier for James to assume the worst, too. It was just easier to front the smile, those affable pleasantries while seeking the crags in every personality he ran afoul of just as he had as a boy.
It was safer. Betterâbut it wasnât true.
James followed brief flash of light that caught the stoneâs surface before it was lost to the mire of swirling dunes. The wind was turbulent, and hot, like fire and only tempered by the absolute lack of verdant life to keep the threat of wildfire at bay.
He could smell a storm on those winds.
Falcoâs grumbled words were somehow more compelling.
        ââYeah, maybe. Maybe.           ⌠heh, Itâs a hard thing to turn your cheek at.â
That was an understatement. The older vulpine flexed his artificial digits, troubling the thoughts he entertained without a word.
       ââbut that person I cared about is dead. Both of âem.              âOnly got a few of those now. Nâ a man of his word                  should be just thatâpunctual.       . . What happened to me doesnât matter,                  but what happens to FOX does.â
He sighed, and scratched for the frames of his sunglasses, pushing them along his snout as had become standard even nowâyears later. The smile was not long to followâthat easy going gesture that had encompassed his veneer since his days in the cornerian military.
        ââGuess thatâs why we got people like you.        Gotta have people that talk sense when youâre              actinâ like an asshole.â
Youâre not an asshole.
But he didnât say that.
âIf you mean that -- â
Falco leaned over, swiping up that half-sack of water heâd left on the wayside. He tossed it his way - let James figure out what happened to it after that. Heâd already done too much, said too much; that smile of Jamesâs was a bit to close to something like concession, and for some reason, it was the last thing Falco wanted to see.Â
Maybe it was the compliment.
Back to your basics, then.
âThen leave a damn note next time,â he said. âSo we can at least track down the bits of you we gotta scrape off the pavement when itâs over.â
There was a pause, here: the time he needs to push the rest past his gag reflex, or whatever youâd call that inexplicable block between him and the air between them.
âAnd,â he added, âmaybe make that boy of yours the first thing you think of instead of the last. Makes you smarter. Everything else is none of my business. Deal?â












