Holding up his hands in an attempt to placate Bart against any knocking down his door check-ups, Fox still can't help the grin on his face. "Alright, alright - noted," he assures the other man. "If you need a hand setting this clinic up, let me know. I'm no craftsman but I've got a thick skull and I don't mind hauling supplies around." And it feels like the least he ought to do for the man who cares more about his health than he does.
"That'd work." Fox nods, glancing across to the trees where, he imagines, even the living branches will be dry enough to break off and use as potential weapons. As for what he is going to do, the hunter is already dropping to a knee to rummage in his bag again, withdrawing a small, wrapped package with rusty stains seeping along the paper edges.
Tearing open the parcel of raw meat (don't ask what kind), he haphazardly scatters it along the shoreline before backing up and finding some long grass to crouch in and wait. "It shouldn't take long before the greedy little bastards sneak up to take a look," he murmurs.
"That'd work." Fox nods, glancing across to the trees where, he imagines, even the living branches will be dry enough to break off and use as potential weapons. As for what he is going to do, the hunter is already dropping to a knee to rummage in his bag again, withdrawing a small, wrapped package with rusty stains seeping along the paper edges.
Tearing open the parcel of raw meat (don't ask what kind), he haphazardly scatters it along the shoreline before backing up and finding some long grass to crouch in and wait. "It shouldn't take long before the greedy little bastards sneak up to take a look," he murmurs.
welcome to the desecration, baby
we built you up and we'll tear you right down
