Vixen sat outside, watching people in the courtyard interact with each other, the bright sun patting down on their backs lightly while a light breeze flew through the air. It was a calming moment. One that he wanted to sit in for a lot longer than he had time to spend.
There was a lot on his mind, the result of putting off thinking for a while. There were also the crawls of something against his skin, a pestering emotion pressing against his skin and mind again and again. It was worry. It had been a while since he felt worried at himself.
This worry was not something he wanted to think about and in fact, was one of the last things that he wanted to cross across his consciousness. Yet it sat there like an unopened book with an appealing cover. Pulling him in with curiosity and yet repelling him with thoughts of how the words inside would sound to him. He put away the worry. He knew very well that the covers were no way to judge the quality of the words inside.
