Imperial Junke Yard, Friday

[notquitewright]

Marcus had been having such a good morning. He did the rounds of the junkyard, checked the fences, and unlocked the shed, experiencing an unfamiliar sensation of satisfaction that everything was where it should be

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[weetinyreese]

Kyle came looking for Marcus, figuring enough time had passed that he might be bearable after Rafe leaving. He didn't expect to find a raccoon in Marcus' pile of clothes. "Marcus?" he called, not realizing the raccoon was who he was looking for.

[notquitewright]

The raccoon who was actually Marcus looked up. Had he been the sort of person who would ever consider facepalming, he'd have been doing so now, because of course it would be Kyle.

Two choices: scamper off and hide until this wore off or try and convince the kid that he was stuck in here.

Marcus opted for the latter. Picking his way over to Kyle, he stopped, sat up on his hind legs and simply looked up at him, head cocked and ears slightly flattened.

[weetinyreese]

He looked down at the raccoon. He didn't know of any raccoons that were so unafraid of people. "I don't have food."

[notquitewright]

Marcus hung his furry bewhiskered head and sighed. The beauty of being a raccoon, he discovered, was that he still had what were pretty close to fingers, so he used to them to point at the pile of clothes, then at his raccoony self, then looked up at Kyle expectantly.