Damn, he was late. Really late. Man, if only he hadnât stayed so late at the library he couldâve been at home hours earlier. Tim sighed and cursed his obsession with books. He was so deep in his thoughts that he almost stepped on something or rather someone. He gasped at the sight of blood.
"JesusâŚ" His eyes widened as he realized who it was. "S-Sinclair? Oh god it is you⌠h-hey man w-wake up⌠c-câmon now is not the time for your beauty sleep!"
   Foxy hissed lightly as someone stepped on his fingers. Fuck, that hurt. He nearly gave all the energy he had left to yell at the guy to leave him in peace, even wondering exactly who the hell walked in an alleyway like this anyway. It was so out of the way, how in the world could someone find it?! But then, he heard that voice. Oh, it was Tim. Well, shit, if his day couldn't get any worse. Not that he hated Tim, but it was the fact that Tim liked Foxy. A lot. Enough to save him.
   "Actually, it's pretty much time fer me t'get some beauty sleep," he snapped back, his voice husky and light, his mouth spewing blood as he spoke. "Carry on t'what ye were doin', everythin' is all fine 'ere." He chuckled lightly, and let his head fall to the side.
