The worst thing about always being on the move...
Neos ducked his head slightly as he entered, not wanting to risk the chance of bonking the top of his head against the top of the door frame, before straightening back up. He could smell the somewhat familiar scent of baked goods upon entering, but he didn't currently have his animalistic sense of smell that would allow him to tell how it was different from his personal norm."Thing is, I don't know if I want any, so I'm gonna have to make like a Ratt---er..." Neos had to take a second to think about what was similar to the small purple and white critter he knew, looking up towards the ceiling. Now, he knew that there was one or two brown creatures with furless tails that had snuck into the...
...oh, yeah. Those squeaky fucks.
"...like a rat and nibble at all of said cookies to see what I like." He invited himself to sit down in the nearest chair before saying, "And, oddly enough, how much the old traditions were 'forgotten' depended on how...ah, shit." Neos hit a mental roadblock as he started to explain what he meant earlier. He didn't know if the words 'urban' or 'rural' were known around here. Welp, one way to find out. "Before I start, are either of the words 'rural' or 'urban' known words around here?"
...is that no one believes the tales that emerge later on.
NEOS
