@creatureprotector
Fox formed was not the most durable of her plethora of animal aliases, but it felt the most natural. At times that comfort was more important in treacherous situations than adorning the skin of a more practical creature: an animal that could protect itself. Besides, there weren’t any mountain lions in England, nor bears, not anymore. Being in fox form meant she was inconspicuous, which could be just as if not more important than her ability to put up a good fight. Could being the operative word---it hadn’t this time.
Beck limped anxiously down a back alley. She was hopelessly lost, aware of the fact that she had to somehow still be in London and nothing more. Her front left leg was badly wounded and there were dark crimson patches staining her brilliant orange fur where a few stray cuts were dug along her back. They stung like the devil, but she was grateful, their annoying, prickling shocks of unpleasantness were easy to focus on. As the adrenaline from the initial scrap wore away, her leg hurt more and more. The less she thought about it the better.
She was tired and it was late. How long had she been going like this? More importantly, how long could she continue. Too injured to shift and too weak to heal herself or even telepathically speak as she usually would, Beck was left with little to no options. Sluggishly, she hobbled along between the street lights and tried to find a decent place to rest.
As it began to drizzle she resigned to the fact that picky was no longer an option for her. There was a bench straight ahead, and though she could clearly make out the silhouette of a man beside it, the frigid droplets of ice water dribbling down from a dark winter sky and plunking into her cuts felt as sharp as a woodpecker’s beak pounding into the wound, and she found she didn’t care about anything but getting out of the rain. The fox opened her mouth as she approached, a clear sign of distress, and let out shrill trilling noises and low grunts in hopes of warding him away if he meant her ill.
Beneath the bench, she collapsed in a shaking, panting mess. Her eyes lingered on the man cautiously, but she lowered her head to her paws to try and rest.
