Testing a Table

Since the male arrived from the forest he had been out of place, noticing other breeds scavenge the bins and steal from meat markets had always ended with concequences. The observerer had made the decision it was out the question, only out of desperation, not only that but the processed food churned his stomach making him feel light headed and generally ill. Although he was now placed at a bin site, this was only a temporary solution for sleeping arrangements as the bustling city provided no shelter for scavenging vermin. "Vermin! Vermin! Vermin!" Rang through his ears, flashbacks of the time he encountered a human with a large shiny stick and a circle at the end and then him running at almost full speed to the forest where he luckily was not followed. That would be the last time he would shelter near the humans.

Shaking his head briskly the canine blocked out his rambling thoughts so he could focus on what was at stake here. Believing that the other had seen the latter part of the event. Q quickly tried to think of how to reply, reminicising on how rude he may have come across on the first response. Since he had come here there had been no need to parle with another hound. Being feral he had not made such an effort either to get noticed nor had he explored and discovered alot of the city. Maybe things would have been different if there were someone who knew the 'safe' way around, if there was one of course.

The Northern Inuit paced forward with haste, 2 brown orbs keeping an intense gaze at the smaller darker breed as he came to an adjacent position and plonked his rear down abruptly. In the blink of an eye the event had happened, the thought of moving from the stench had not really been considered, or wether the scent was now clinging to his groomed coat.

It had been a long time since someone had took any notice of his activities, for months he had spent each day alone, although deep down his weathered heart he had been waiting to come across a friend. Feeling awkward and uneasy, a few wrong words could tip everything onto it's head, but what could a loner say to make them seem different from the stereotyped untame creatures that lurked about the wilderness with the nickname feral.