» to sleep, perchance to dream

[emery sinclair.]

Kamui.

---

[/I], as much of a hunt as this could be. There’d be no killing, no bloody aftermath, no gorging himself on the fruits (er, meats) of his labor, because this was a different circumstance, and no matter how much Sinclair tried to pretend to himself otherwise, the entire affair was lacking in the sense of desperate necessity associated with hunting to eat. One couldn’t take part in that kind of recreation in the city, lycanthrope or not — even if one was shameless in walking down the street in furry form, there were just some things that couldn’t be considered tasteful in public. Sinclair might have thought that a hunt like this, even if it wasn’t really a hunt so much as it was a search was beneath him, but there was little else he could do. With no alternatives to consider, the tiger had gone ahead to do what had, at the time, seemed the best course of action: he’d left the house, in his proudest shape, ready to come home with a pet for his little girl.

It couldn’t be denied that Lolita was spoiled; she was prohibited from playing with Sinclair’s dogs, a small pack of English Bull Mastiffs, simply because they could get rough and while he would trust his own life in their capable jaws during a hunt, he didn’t trust them to play nice around a child who was prone to pulling ears and knew no better. And like all little girls her age, she wanted a pony. Well, Sinclair was quite aware of the fact that keeping a horse in the city was a veritable impossibility, and, after a long, arduous struggle in which his attempts to explain the mechanics of keeping an animal that needed a lot of space to run around and a lot of bales of hay to keep them fed and happy ultimately failed, had decided to pacify her by telling her that he would find her a pet of her own. In fact, they would go out today to the town’s pet shop, would get her a nice kitten or a puppy of her own choosing.

But my friends already have those, she’d whined, looking at him straight in the eyes that seemed too lively to be mirrors of his. I want something they don’t have.

What choice did he have?

It was currently noon. People were staring as he plodded down the thoroughfare, across the street, about the park, nose lowered to the ground. He didn’t care.

If Lolita wanted exotic, he’d give her exotic.
[/ul][/font]

[kamui hikeme.]

A shape flitted about through the park as said shape dodged a few dogs that had gotten loose from their masters. Naturally, the shape had a name and that would be Kamui, the infamous flirtatious werefox of the city. Not that anyone could recognize him in this form being as he was now in the shape of a red fox. So much for a nice day to go walking in this form. He chastised himself as he missed running into a tiger, as odd as that sounds, crouched low to the ground before running to the nearest tree and thanking the spirits that foxes at least had the claws of a cat if nothing else. Once he was safely tucked within the branches, eyes watching the dogs below trot around the tree in obvious wondering of where their prey had gone, Kamui allowed himself a moment of rest, pink tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted for the breath he'd lost while running.

That's the most exercise I've had outside the bedroom in who knows how long. He thought to himself absently, trying to make light of his previous problem. His tri-colored tail curled about his paws as he rested his head upon his black paws, eyes still watching the dogs below warily until they were called back by their masters who had obviously caught up after awhile. Kamui remained in his spot for awhile afterwords however, just in case the dogs returned. The last thing he wanted was for that chase to happen all over again. His small legs against those longer ones of the dogs' were really no match. At least over such a long distance. Those dogs were without a doubt built for endurance. As he thought this, he watched the dogs until they were out of sight before carefully crawling down from the tree and shaking his fur of all debree.

Some people looked at him oddly, but he really didn't pay people any mind. To them he was just some stray fox that had wandered into the city from the forest nearby and not a werefox as he truly was. While he sat there messing with his fur until it was back to the way he wanted it, he continued to pant. Soon, though, his attention was drawn to the tiger crouching and sniffing the ground for something. Was he hunting? Surely in the midst of the day he wouldn't be hunting in the middle of the human city. A shrug of his shoulders and he contemplated on whether or not to approach the other. Were they a normal tiger or a weretiger? Judging from their size he guessed the later and thus decided he would indeed make his way over there.

Black paws pushing the grass back, he padded over and stood next to the tiger for a moment before trying to get into his line of sight? Should he try to say anything? Could weretigers understand werefoxes in this shape? If not then he figured he might be lunch if that's what this tiger was indeed looking for. After all, weretigers and werefoxes didn't have a treaty with each other as werefoxes had with werewolves and many other species had with each other. Come to think of it the weretigers didn't have a treaty with anyone. This made him a bit more hesitant as he stood in the line of sight of the other. After the incident with the dogs, he really didn't want to have to run again. Considering the fact he was still breathing hard from the first go around.

[emery sinclair.]

Ahahah, I love me some Saga ♥

---

[/I]. Laughable. If Sinclair had been hunting for himself, the thing would have been taken into his mouth in one swallow, down his gullet in the next instance. Did this thing not understand the predator-prey etiquette around here? Chuffing a breath, dubious, Sinclair simply met the creature’s eyes. What was it waiting for, a roar and a swat? The sonic tremors from his voice alone would kill it. Hm. A funny thought, no?

Whatever it was — Sinclair couldn’t chance a rational guess, as he tended to rely on his other senses in this form moreso than his sight — it would do just perfectly. Lolita would be happy with it: it was small and cute and he could take it home without attracting more attention than absolutely necessary, and it would pacify his daughter for the time being. He’d figure out its diet later, what its care required, maybe from whatever dinky little petshop was nearby, because with such a cute, pinched face and beady little eyes, how could Lolita resist? She’d love his puffy tail, his tiny paws that could probably match hers in size. Well now, this search hadn’t been so hard, had it? If his mouth muscles had allowed, Sinclair might have smiled; he settled for a low rumbling in the back of his throat, his version of a satisfied purr. It came out sounding a little menacing, but that didn’t matter: the next minute, he launched himself at the fox, brought both giant paws down to either side of him, clamped his jaws down on his neck, and gave another, a louder, rumble in the back of his throat, as if to tell him to keep quiet.

The thing’s fur tasted like sweat, and through the not-quite-gentle-but-not-painful Sinclair had on it, he could feel its little heart beating, probably from the aftermath of whatever had made it so tired. Hm. Interesting — but that would have to wait, people were staring and even if he told himself he didn’t care, being seen in complete daylight for long without Lolita to distract people was putting him on edge. Not many people would approach a tiger of his size, but then, one couldn’t be certain… and it was too early for vampires to be out. Why was he rushing, then? He could play with this one… rend him limb from limb, swallow him… find another pet for Lolita by the time the day was up. Really, he hadn’t had much in the way of hunting for awhile, this would be a little bit of consolation. In fact, it sounded like the best course of action… if not for his common sense. In what was his version of a sigh, Sinclair brushed away the thought of eating the ball of living fur in his mouth and rose, trotting off toward the street again. He was bigger, much bigger than this thing, and even if it struggled, there was just no way in hell it was going to wrestle out of his grip.

Besides, his apartment wasn’t all that far anyway.

Grin.[/ul][/font]

[kamui hikeme.]

As do I. Lol.

---

Kamui watched the tiger warily as it looked up at him. What he would give to know what that creature was thinking or to have some semblance of speech that both of them could understand. Yet that would go against all rules of nature, so he mentally sighed and was about to walk away, deciding just to go back to his apartment and change back. The tiger seemed to have different plans however and needless to say, Kamui was very surprised when powerful jaws enclosed about his neck swiftly. Panic arose in his body and he thought for a second that the tiger was going to kill him and eat him right then and there. His heart beat wildly and he struggled for a bit, eyes wide with fear, but as he was given the vocal command not to speak. It was unspoken as well that he was not to struggle.

Tail tucking between his hind legs, he prayed this creature would have mercy on him. Sure, he had done quite a few bad deeds in his time, but who hadn't? Immediately he found himself regretting some of his past sexual indulgences. Regardless of such though, he couldn't abate the ever-growing fear that passed through his body as he lay dangling from the huge creature's maw. Why was it not killing him? Surely that had been it's aim? Or was there something stopping him from it? Maybe I'm to be some meal for tiger cubs or something. He thought absently, trying his best to keep most of his fear from surfacing for he knew that every werecreature could sense fear in some form or fashion. Be it by smell or by just merely sensing. It was something he knew well as a matter of fact.

He was jolted from his thoughts moments later however when he realized he was being carried off somewhere. His tail remained tucked and his body compliant. Maybe this creature sensed he was a were and wanted to speak with him. Kamui knew this was a very small chance seeing as he was the only one of his kind within this city, so he was more than likely mistaken for a normal fox rather than a werefox. So this is how I die then, is it? Funny, I thought I was going to die at the hands of some jealous girlfriend of a guy I sleep with...or something. His mind tried it's best to shift to something comforting or distracting from his current plight of being carried off by a huge tiger to who knows where. It only worked for a few moments, of course, and soon he was worrying again where it was he was being taken.

[emery sinclair.]

[/I], and carried on with his mission. People were indeed staring, and the urge to slam the kit down onto the concrete to crunch his entire little spine in just for the sheer fun of watching them squirm in squeamish jitters was a thought he entertained to keep his mind from lingering to the thought of how hungry he was with such a nice little morsel literally right under his nose as he continued his light gallop down the street, back towards the apartment in Lolita’s name. How sad, he thought, that he was doing this all for her — she even had her own apartment. A four-year old, no less! But he loved her — if he didn’t, he sure as hell wouldn’t have wasted fifteen minutes looking for something that couldn’t be found in a pet shop just to assuage her spoilt nature. Not even this feisty little ball of insignificant fluff could deter him from an endeavor when the ends made a difference in his only child’s happiness, no matter how short-lived it would be. She was a fickle creature; this fox’s torment might only last a week if she was consistent. The thought that perhaps the figure in his mouth wasn’t more than a stupid, unthinking fox never crossed his mind; a were would be smarter than to approach another, bigger were, even if they were both sentient beings and therefore had a code of morality between them. To think anything else, that this plush toy of an animal had a working brain and vocal chords in another for was anathema.

Contrary to popular belief, though, Sinclair could not smell the fox’s fear — he felt it, rather, in the subtle way his pulse seemed to pick up, in the minute twitches of the tail as it folded up between his (his? Sinclair didn’t care — it was an animal, after all, and one that hadn‘t had the sense to stay away) legs and stayed immobile there, as if completely frozen. Wasn’t that the first instinct for every prey? Remain completely still and hope that the carnivore wouldn’t, you know, do what it did best and eat it? The thought made him ‘purr’ a little bit louder in a sarcastic laugh directed to the nameless fox (Lolita would probably give it some cutesy name like Chou-Chou or Cinderella once she received it, no doubt), now making his way up the stairs to the loft that held his darling child. A swell of pride puffed up his chest, straightened his back; his tail flicked in amusement for a job well done. Lolita probably wasn’t expecting such speedy results, but then, all children had impossible standards to keep up with anyway. With how fast he had returned home with the target gift, she was sure to think he was a damned superhero or something.

“Papa?” came a voice at the opposite end of the door, telltale in its gentle alto and signature muffled intonation, the sign of a small child‘s voice. Sinclair rising up on both hind paws to try and bat at the doorknob. Stupid lack of opposable thumbs… In a signal to her, his throat began to rumble, and Sinclair hoped in the back of his mind that the vibrations didn’t give the fox a heart attack. The last thing he wanted to do was explain Foxy Heaven to his daughter. “Oh, I’m opening the door right now!” What a good little soldier, he thought fondly as the door did indeed swing open a second later, the soft padding of two feet heralding her appearance — Sinclair nodded his head once in his customary I’m-in-an-unspeaking-furry-form-without-working-vocal-chords’ greeting before getting right to business, dropping Kamui onto the ground with an unsympathetic thump. Maybe that wasn’t so smart, he thought after it had been done, because she’d probably get mad at him for treating her new pet with such callousness.

She didn’t, surprisingly, because a second later, the child, her sandy-blond hair loose from the ponytail she’d begged her father to put it in this morning, stooped down to prod at Kamui, a bright grin coming over her face. No words were necessary; she was aware Sinclair couldn’t respond to her in this form, and that her words sounded like garbled nonsensical things in his ears, and conveyed her happiness with a smile, reaching forward to let her hands hover over the cargo that had been deposited before her. As if to remind the fox to behave, Sinclair discreetly (hah) growled in the back of his throat, locking eyes with him, a deathly solid stare. See if he’d go against that — there were plenty of places Kamui could run in the loft: under the two plush candy-apple-red armchairs around the coffee table in the center of the loft, toward the wide-walled bedrooms (Sinclair’s door was closed — he wouldn’t be able to hide in there, which would make things hella easier if Sinclair did indeed have to track him down. It was a mess in there), in Lolita’s room., but he couldn’t run for very long. The weretiger would sic his dogs on him if necessary; Kamui was dispensable. Sinclair just hoped the fox understood that.

The low growl in the back of his throat, another warning, seemed to tell him Your only job is to make her happy. Sinclair really did hope he got that.
[/font][/ul]

[kamui hikeme.]

Kamui's eyes looked around as the tiger continued to trot off with him within the confines of it's maw. The scenery was nothing he hadn't seen before, but he couldn't place exactly where they were going. One might think someone who slept around as much as he did might memorize every portion of the city, but that was very untrue when it came to Kamui. He slept with people for fun, not to map out the city. If he wanted that all he had to do was wander about as he had been doing previous to now. And what I would be doing still if my damn curiosity didn't get the better of me. he reminded himself bitterly as he remained unmoving within the tiger's so far merciful jaws. The grip was not painful, nowhere near it actually, but it brought back memories. It reminded him of the scar that he already had upon the back of his neck from the bite of a weretiger. Within a whole different context, of course.

These thoughts only served to distract him for a few moments though as he looked around the apartment building they were making their way into. His tail touched the stairs every now and then, but he didn't pay it really any mind. His current thoughts were on where he was going and why he was going there. Being dinner for this creature or any sort of offspring was not on his list of things to do or things he wanted to do at the moment and more than likely would never be on either. He just wanted to be released back where he was, run home, change back, nap for quite a few hours, and then get up and go flirt with some random guy at the club. It was what his day consisted of normally anyway, so not that this was really much of a surprise coming from such a promiscuous werefox.

Within moments they had stopped at a certain apartment and Kamui allowed himself the indulgence of turning his head to look at the door and the area around. It was nothing too special. Actually it was quite similar to his own apartment building. That thought brought a slight bit of comfort, but it was only brief as he heard a deep rumbling come from his captor's throat. At first he thought it was directed at him, but when he saw the tiger paw at the door and then a person's voice carry through the doorway, he guessed it was not so. Still, it took quite a bit of effort to calm his panicked emotions and keep himself from struggling within the powerful creatures maw for surely that would only make it tighten it's grip and without a doubt Kamui did not want that. The feel of fangs in that area of his body was for the bedroom only. Definitely not for this.

When the door opened and a little girl was brought into his vision, he chanced a smell of her. She was a werecreature as well even though she took the opposite form to the one holding him by his scruff. Within moments of the door opening though, he was dropped and thus had to resist the urge to bolt. He'd have no chance against this creature in his animal form due to the mere size difference. At this thought, his body shuddered a couple times and he looked to the girl for a sign she would be merciful with him. This is when he noticed her prod his side ever so slightly and considering the size of the creature behind him and how much he must care for this girl, he refrained from doing anything. Instead he played the part of ignorant creature with ease and enter the apartment slowly and cautiously sniffing around, bushy tail still within his hind legs.

Thoughts entered his mind as he softly padded about that perhaps he wasn't to be a meal. If not though, then what? Kamui's eyes narrowed as it hit him. He was to be a pet. A collared and trained pet just like your average cat or dog. Well, this would not do. Spinning around, he turned to face the tiger, bent on finding some way to show his utter dislike at the idea of being a pet when the warning growl was aimed at him. This changed what he was going to do immediately and instead just sat where he was, ears laying back and tail remaining tucked submissively. After a few more moments of that though there was another growl. This one was more informative in the fact that it allowed him to see that the tiger just wanted this girl to be happy. Still, he disliked the idea, but rather than complain he just walked over to the girl and nudged her small arm with his cold nose. What the heck, he could hang around here for awhile and then escape unnoticed later. He realized it was about the only thing he really could do anyway.

[emery sinclair.]

[/I] to him earlier? In the wild, he would have been eaten, without a doubt, without a moment’s hesitation. Mm. Well, if he was stupid, maybe he’d learn to love Lolita, would follow her around and need her enough that she could exert her need for dominance over him. It was cute, really. A little scary, but cute.

After she had been tucked in, Sinclair kicked the door shut with a back paw and returned to the living room, yawned once, admittedly only half of it out of necessity; the other out of a desire to remind the fox (if he was still even around) that yes, he would tear him up if he had to, and since his daughter was out of the room, there was nothing keeping him from doing just that.

Hm. This was fun.
[/ul]

[kamui hikeme.]

Kamui turned his gaze upon the girl as she walked away from him, but to where he wasn't sure. As she disappeared from sight though he glanced sidelong at the tiger for a moment before continuing his inventory of what the house looked like. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, but he figured he ought to at least do something while he waited for the girl to return. The tiger was likely not to let him escape anyway, so he wasn't about to try that. He'd have no chance of surviving if he got on the wrong end of that tiger. He had at least that much common sense. Other animal instincts didn't come quite as easily to him, though, for he indulged far more in the human aspects of life than in the animal and almost seemed to have lost what he needed most in this form. It was a disheartening thought, but he pushed it aside as the girl reappeared and walked over to his side.

A quick pat to his head though and the girl was rubbing her eyes tiredly. This made him nudge her just a bit more before retreating as the tiger walked close to her and picked her up by the collar of her shirt, following the action by carrying her to a room. For a moment he thought to bolt out the nearest door or window, but before he had the chance to put much thought into it, the tiger had reappeared and was watching him. It was really beginning to unnerve him how much the creature watched him. Perhaps he was finally piecing together that he was a Werefox and not a normal one. Wait a minute. A thought was triggered within his brain after a moment. One that caused him to disregard the yawn from the tiger. If he stayed in this form for much longer, his human form would start gaining the traits of this form. He'd been like this for nearly all day and now he was regretting it.

Eyes wide, he looked about the apartment for a quick escape so he could go home and shift back, but alas there was none and this made his nervousness rise further. Eyes darting from one portion of the apartment to another he looked for what would be the best thing to do. If worse came to worse he could change right here. After all it wasn't like he had any shame being nude in his human form. As he considered this carefully, he crouched and crawled over to the couch, climbing on top of it quickly. His gaze then met with the tiger's for a brief moment before turning away. If he didn't know that he wasn't a normal fox then, he would in just a small bit of time. Not that Kamui really cared, for the only thing that worried him about shifting back would be he would be at the tiger's mercy for who knows how long. This didn't settle well with his stomach, but he fought to keep that down as he curled into the couch cushions.

Within a few moments he closed his eyes and willed his body back to his original shape. He hissed and growled quite a bit as his limbs were stretched back into a human form, bones cracking and popping, tail drawing up, it was a very painful process. Once it was over though, he lay curled upon the cushions, long arms between long legs in a coiled posture, breathing hard even as his vision faded to blackness and he passed out. Nothing had really been added to his human form other than the slitting of his pupils, but those could not be seen considering his eyes were closed and would be for quite some time. He already had the claws and fangs from a previous experience with staying in his other form for too long. It had been a juvenile mistake he'd made when he first found out about being able to shift into such a creature.

[emery sinclair.]

[/I] form of a naked man-boy-fox-thing in his living room, completely naked. Did he mention he was naked? Oh, not that that particularly bothered Sinclair, but the fact that his little girl was in the room right next to them set the alarms in his head off like bombs. Bugger that it completely fucked with his head — this sudden shift in forms that proved that there was a little more than natural were-abilities at work here — he had to do something about this one before Lolita heard the commotion (what commotion, when they were both silent?) and woke up and then Sinclair would be forced to explain something he really didn’t want to explain. In fact, if he had to, he’d castrate the… thing (he didn’t want to disgrace the name of lycanthropes by calling it a were) so there wouldn’t be anything to explain. Oh, damnit. Of all of the wild animals in the city, he just had to go and pick the one stupid one that was secretly a nudist, and…

Shit. Nostrils flared, the tiger stepped forward, batted a paw in front of the young man’s face as if to get him to open his eyes. The urgency of the situation dictated nothing less than perfect panic: in a second, Sinclair had his teeth on one of the body’s arms, was dragging him toward the bathroom and tossed him in there, kicked the door shut as he had with Lolita not a few minutes ago, hustled to his bedroom and shifted, much more practiced with the entire ordeal to comfortably complete the change without much residual pain. As quickly as humanly (or inhumanly, as the case was) possible, he grabbed his clothes, donned them, practically sprinted out of the room and back into the bathroom — record time! Such a shame it was out of an emergency; he pulled the door open and stepped in again, looking down on the changeling with a mix of apprehension, reproach, slight disgust, and mild worry. Sinclair wasn’t heartless, after all: he could acknowledge that he had been a little rough in his treatment of the other male, and if he was hurt, then it was entirely on him.

What a horrible disservice to oneself, to have a conscience, he thought, lips pursed and eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation. So the boy was a were… the thought made him a little angry. How stupid he’d been! The fox, of course, not him — if he had been a vampire, hell, another, bigger animal, Kamui would have been killed. He snorted. Every inch of him matched his second form, scrawny and too pale and Sinclair kind of felt sorry for him, but the disdain he currently felt was too much. Plus, he’d just endangered his little girl’s virgin eyes, a sin for which there could be no reconciliatory punishment. Nudging the body with his foot, Sinclair knelt down, trademark elegance completely intact, narrowed his eyes again. What to do? Certainly, letting Lolita keep him was out of the question, and Sinclair was pretty sure there were some rules against things like that. Slavery, or something. Did he have a home? Why would he be running around town in such a small form? Sinclair could afford to do that because he was large, powerful. This boy… not so much.

“Open your eyes,” he said succinctly, voice deadpan. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, shifting in front of someone like that? Tell me what the fuck your game is, or I’ll kill you where you… sit.”
[/ul]

[kamui hikeme.]

Kamui didn't stir a bit as he was drug to the bathroom. He hadn't practiced well enough with shifting back to human form, well with going either way really, enough to warrant the use of his body after such a change. His body just lay where it was, shaking slightly from the cold of the tile floor upon naked skin, when he was put into the bathroom, door shut behind him. Naturally it still didn't register when Sinclair reappeared in the room, in his human form as well. The nudging of a foot against him still went unnoticed and even still when he was knelt in front of. It was obvious the shift took quite a huge toll on an already unsteady form and it would be a feat in itself for him to awaken soon. He'd never awoken before at least a couple hours had passed, that much he knew from timing himself in checking a clock before shifting back.

Still, something seemed to be triggered by Sinclair's being there, so after a few minutes had passed from his point of speaking, Kamui stirred ever so slightly, groaning a bit as his muscles protested the movement. Eyes flitted open following such a sound and he turned his gaze towards where he saw a foot and then brought it up to meet Sinclair's hostile look. It went unspoken, but somehow he knew this person before him had been the tiger he'd encountered previous to now and he obviously wasn't pleased with him. At all. This thought unnerved him a bit as he fought to pull himself to at least a sitting position, bracing himself with his back against the nearby wall. Naturally he didn't notice his pupils were now fox-like slits being as his gaze was still trained upon the figure before him. The look in his eyes made him want to curl away from it, from him, but he couldn't. He was still in the guy's apartment. He knew that much from the decor of the bathroom. Wait, bathroom?

Kamui's gaze turned questioning as he looked, pleaded, with Sinclair for an answer. Why was he in the bathroom? Had he done something in his passed out state? It was unlikely, but it was still a possibility. "Did I...do something wrong?" He voiced softly then, the fact he'd shifted in the living room into the form he was currently in seemed to be the last thing he could think of as a reason for the hostility. Either way, he felt a bit more safe in this form because their wasn't an insane size difference. He braced himself, however, in case he really had indeed done something to warrant a strike or two. It wasn't as if it would be anything new. Hell, he'd been struck numerous times on numerous occasions, though never in a situation such as this for the mere fact he'd never had to shift back in front of another before. He'd never been that desperate to change back as he had then.

His skin felt cold against the tile of the floor and as such he felt shivers running the length of his spine as he waited on an answer. The nervousness and fear of having done something arose in his chest before settling uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. It was nothing like the panic he had felt when the dogs had chased him, nor the instinctual fear he'd gotten from being grabbed and carried by the neck earlier. No, it was something entirely different. This was the feel of complete and utter vulnerablility....and he loathed it. What had happened to his cocky exterior? His flirtatious attitude? Was this fear enough to put a hamper on it? The icy feeling intensified within him as an unspoken response to an unspoken question. I couldn't have done anything bad. He had to remind himself, forcing his gaze to remain locked with the tiger's, their depths reflecting questioning and apprehension rather than challenge though and he hoped Sinclair could see that.

[emery sinclair.]

[/I] enough to get caught by him, had committed one of the worst sins a lycanthrope could ever commit in the presence of another were: he’d let his guard down. Again, Sinclair was brought back to the idea that had he been a vampire, or simply an animal, there would have been no stuffed-inside-a-bathroom-for-privacy episode, there would have been werefox fur on the park grass and that would have been it. Sinclair was not a believer in fate. What had happened was that this idiot kid had gone and completely fucked up. Like, completely. And, yes, there was also the matter of his daughter’s happiness to be considered, but that was a factor he would have to deal with himself.

At the first sign of working vocal chords, though, the anger notch was brought down from ‘boiling’ to ‘considerable simmer,’ and the tiger found his attention back onto the problem at hand. Did I...do something wrong? Had he done something wrong? What a ludicrous question! — Er… had he? Well, yes and no. He’d done something senseless, but not wrong, and the tiger could recognize the difference. A lecture would be wisest, he felt, but a lecture would have to come after he calmed down. Pride was everything to this big cat — to have someone fuck up right in front of him was taboo, something he never wanted to have to see again. Speaking of seeing, though, after a small amount of waiting silence, it occurred to Sinclair that the kid was still naked. Any normal person would be embarrassed, or at least a little put-off, not that it bothered the were too much, but his personality prompted him to at least be courteous. Instead of answering the earlier inquiry right off, Sinclair sighed, turned, exited the rather large loft bathroom, picked up accoutrements of clothing sitting in the back of his closet. They might fit, he guessed, they’d been in there for quite awhile, and he returned, tossed them onto the fox-thing with an unreadable look on his face.

“Get dressed,” he said quietly, leaning up against the closed doorframe, arms crossed in inner contemplation. What else could he do? He didn’t trust himself not to go off on the kid, at least not yet. A moment or two passed before he added, almost as an afterthought, “You’re pretty stupid.” Well, that was almost a good sign. At least he felt up to teasing. Comfortable with his mood level right now, Sinclair eased into the lecture he’d extemporaneously put together in his head, keeping his words slow and precise. Didn’t foxes die when their hearts beat too fast or something? Or was that rabbits? …Oh, bugger, he could never remember his herbivore trivia when it came to times like these. Even still, going slowly was just a way for him to watch himself, so that he didn’t just rend into Kamui like he initially felt like doing.

“For one,” he began, now mostly calmed. “You went up to a carnivore, in the middle of the day, when it’s generally feeding time, and stood there until I caught you. See anything wrong with that? That, in other countries, kid, would be called voluntary suicide, and yeah, it’s a redundant term, but it makes you seem really stupid, or a bad vampire-slave spy.” A pause. A smile. “And, two, you nearly shifted in front of my child. That would have gotten you a one-way ticket to eunuch-ville, and considering the fact you smell like you get around, I don’t think that would have been too fun for you.”
[/ul]

[kamui hikeme.]

The silence that followed his question seemed almost suffocating as Kamui sat there and looked up at Sinclair, feeling a bit like a child about to be scolded by it's parent. It wasn't a feeling he liked well and had luckily only experienced it rarely. His parents never had been attentive to him anyway, so what should they care if he did something wrong? Kamui mentally growled at this, suddenly remembering that this plight was his fault and not his parents'. Sure, they hadn't been the best, but he couldn't blame them for any sort of predicament he now came across for they were long gone from this city. Had left it years ago. This brought another feeling to his chest, but it quickly subsided as he watched Sinclair get up and leave the bathroom. Was he that mad? I must have done something awful. He thought bluntly, looking down to the ground now and rubbing one naked arm with the opposite hand and sighing lightly.

After a few moments though he was startled by clothes being tossed towards him and the command to get dressed left Sinclair's mouth. He paused for a moment, unsure if he should follow the order, but soon he mentally shrugged and made a move to stand up. His limbs were not too happy with this movement and complained insistently that they hadn't gotten enough resting time after the change, but he made no signs of this other than a bit of wincing as he righted himself. How long had he been out for anyway? His mind pondered this as he pulled on the loose pair of pants and t-shirt absently. The almost playful words leaving Sinclair's mouth yet again caught him off-guard and he had to pause in the act of pulling on the last article of clothing he needed to in order to register just what had been said to him. As he realized it though, a small smile crept onto his features.

"Yeah, I know." He replied softly, adjusting the loose-fitting clothing upon his body fully before looking back to Sinclair. There was another long pause between them and faintly Kamui wondered just how exactly Sinclair's mood had seemed to change that soon. He had expected a hit at least from that seething anger he'd felt moments earlier radiating off of his powerful body. The fact that it had never came little less than stunned the young fox, but he chose not to comment on it. Instead he settled for leaning against the sink in the bathroom for support as his legs were still arguing with him to sit back down and let them rest some more before using them. His mind was stubborn though and he didn't want to sink back to the floor. He was stronger than that...at least he hoped.

If his fox ears had been in his human form they would have perked up as Sinclair began speaking once more, Kamui instantly realizing he was answering his previous question. As he listed off things that could have been seen as wrong in anyone's eyes, Kamui hung his head, knowing them all to be true. "I know, but I was just curious. You looked too big to be a normal tiger, so I knew you had to be a Were. I guess I was just looking for conversation...or something." He spoke up a moment before Sinclair spoke of him nearly changing in front of his daughter. At this he looked surprised, at least mildly. "Well it's true I do sleep around a lot, but...I thought there would be nothing wrong even if she had seen me. I mean, she's a Were too, right? If so I figured she must have at least seen you change back." It was a bold statement, he knew, but shouldn't he at least voice his reasoning for such an action?

[emery sinclair.]

[/I] feel if he’d woken up in some complete stranger’s bathroom, naked (although, again, considering he was a lycanthrope, that wouldn’t be too much of a problem), and about to get read a riot act he’d only deserved because of genuine curiosity? Well… that didn’t excuse all of the fox’s behavior, but it did make him wonder as to why the fox hadn’t just said anything in the first place… er… squeaked or something. Whatever it was that foxes sounded like. Obviously, a city-dweller like Sinclair wouldn’t know a squeak from a purr from a mammal that would otherwise be considered food… which brought up the point that maybe Kamui couldn’t have said anything. Whoops. Okay, so that fell on him, but that was the only thing that did.

“Conversation would have been easier in our common forms,” he said simply, shrugging and reaching out to steady him, lips pursed. A sigh. “In any case, it isn’t a question of whether my daughter has seen me shift before — she hasn’t — you need to learn when to keep your nose to yourself.” A tiny smirk, almost indiscernible. He wanted to make sure this one never forgot his lecture — yes, it was prudish, but Sinclair knew it might very well save him someday. There were a lot more people out there, mortals, even, who weren’t anywhere near so forgiving. “So… are you a vampire’s pet, kid, or are you just prone to wandering around town by yourself? Because… my daughter would most definitely enjoy a fox for a pet, although I must admit she isn’t one to use her plastic Barbie hairclips sparingly.” Sinclair would know. He conveniently omitted that part, for the sake of his ego. “And, so I know whether I should kill you now or not…” Uplifted tone, joking. Mostly so, at least. “…Where do your loyalties lie?”
[/ul]

[kamui hikeme.]

Again there was that pause in their conversation and Kamui found himself looking down to his bare feet once more, them only vaguely covered by the loose pants. His hands remained braced on the sink as he awaited an answer, hoping he wouldn't provoke the other's anger yet again though. He'd done that too much for his own want already. Anger wasn't an emotion he readily let get to him, but then again the only time he gained that emotion, before now anyway, was when he flirted with the wrong person. That usually ended up in a punch to kick or something, however, quite the opposite to what was taking place here. Sinclair seemed to be a bit more understanding than most Weres and mortals he had encountered and for that he was grateful. If he had been any less understanding, Kamui knew he probably wouldn't have woken up after passing out rather than being here reclining heavily against a near-stranger's bathroom sink.

Once words arose from Sinclair's lips he looked back up and met gazes with him, just to let him know he was hearing what he was saying and taking heed to it. For the first while he didn't say anything, much preferring to keep his mouth shut and listen to what Sinclair had to say, but as he was asked a couple questions, ones he was a bit surprised at being asked, he thought a moment before responding. "I am no vampire's pet I assure you. Most of the ones I encounter cannot stand me." He spoke truthfully, gaze flitting about the bathroom once before returning to meeting Sinclair's own. "I live alone in an apartment. Though I rarely stay there. Most of my days are taken up by flirting and sex, if you want me to be totally honest." A moment's pause and then he continued. "Therefore, I can easily say my loyalties lie with myself for I have no other close enough to be loyal to."

His voice had been soft as he'd murmured the last part, gaze downcast for a brief moment before returning to Sinclair's as he thought about what he'd said about his daughter. "As for a pet fox...I myself would not be comfortable with something like that. However..." Again another pause, thinking on what he was going to say, carefully. "I could get your daughter a young fox kit should she want it. To raise to be a house pet or whatever she chooses." He hoped Sinclair might agree to such a thing because in his eyes it might could be penchance for his slip-up earlier on. Not that he really had anything to atone for, but still, he couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for the slight trouble he'd caused Sinclair.

[emery sinclair.]

[/I] as much as it was young. True, it could be that he was just feeling the aftereffects of his impromptu shift, but even then, Sinclair got the vibe that he didn’t get out much when it didn’t come to his wonderfully scintillating hobbies.

Coming back to reality, though, Sinclair smiled good-naturedly and waved the boy’s offer away, pleased that he hadn’t realized the elder was being sarcastic. Naïve? Probably not, but it was all in good fun for the tiger anyway. Lolita would beg him to find another pet — he would tell her the truth later (how he hated lying to his daughter, even if it was so easy to do it to anyone else), and offer to get her another pet. Maybe a rabbit. Or, as she was more likely to desire, a tarantula. She really was a strange child. In any case, Kamui was right — free will was free will, and he couldn’t remain in the house much longer unless things were going to get awkward with Sinclair trying to explain to Lita just why daddy was in the bathroom with a man who was wearing his clothes. Okay, so he was a little bit of a prude in that respect, but he was determined to keep his child from the ‘other’ world as long as possible, damnit. With such a close call Kamui had put him up to, that still didn’t quite sit well with him, but at least he was keeping himself under control.

“…It would be wise of you to keep yourself unaligned,” he said, sighing slightly and opening the door of the bathroom to peek out into the hall. No Lita, as she was probably still napping. Good. “I don’t think this barely-peaceful inactivity between the lycanthropes and vampires — lukoi within themselves, even — is going to last for very much longer. Get yourself caught up on the wrong side, and it’s over. A bad decision isn’t something we can make more than once.” He grinned, emphasizing his words. “And this, this was your one mistake, kid. Now, do you have some clothes or do I need to get you smaller ones? Lita is going to ask questions if you’re still around when she gets up.”

What a shame, really.
[/ul]

[kamui hikeme.]

Kamui nodded as he was given the bit of advice to stay unaligned. True, it was very wise to stick to neither side for the chance of the other side coming after you. Dying was not something high up on his priority list. On the contrary he enjoyed living and wanted to keep it as such. He didn't pay much mind to the waving away of the offer he'd given Sinclair, even though he really had thought it would have been nice if he'd have taken it. Mentally sighing a bit, he turned his attention elsewhere until he heard the Weretiger begin speaking again. It was getting a slight bit irritating being called a kid, so without a second thought he spoke to correct him. "Listen, I'm not a kid, so please quit calling me as such. I'm twenty years old and as far from being a kid as possible." His voice was soft, but displayed his slight irritation quite well.

His irritation seemed to dissipate thought as he was offered smaller clothes to wear in case the child woke up while he was still here. "No, that's alright. I'll just be going." He replied, voice neutral as he wanted to just leave this place and go home. "I'll return these clothes to you sometime later on after I rest for a bit." He was all too aware of just how drained his body still was; even more so due to his stubbornness of standing. With that said, he gently pushed passed the taller Were and walked towards the front door, albeit a bit shakily. He took heed to be quiet as Lolita was still asleep. He didn't want to disturb her and start this all over again. "Thanks for not killing me today, though." He spoke as he grasped the handle on the door, almost certain Sinclair had followed him out of the bathroom. "I know you probably wanted to."

He stood there for a few long moments after that before carefully pulling the door ajar and slipping outside into the stairway. He quickly made work of jogging down the stairs, having to hold onto the railing as he did so to keep his balance. Within moments he was stumbling his way outside, the feel of the autumn air on him refreshing and gave him the feeling he was finally free yet again. What a relief. This thought crossed his brain as he ran a hand through slightly sweaty blonde hair, eyes closing as he tried to put a grasp on his sense of balance before fully pulling away from the building and walking back to his own apartment.

[emery sinclair.]

[/I]ed kid. A part of Sinclair might even have wanted to reach out for him, maybe take him out to dinner or something innocuous like that. Hell, for all he knew, and for the olfactory evidence that supported his theory, Kamui was a whore — and not in the social sense, in the sense that he actually got paid — and he was probably going out to get to work for some vampiric pimp. That would make a lot of sense, actually.

Except, some part of Sinclair really didn’t believe this kid (again, I refer to you Sinclair’s alibi for this mindset) had enough sense to know how to subtly work a guy over. And that’s what kept him from jumping to conclusions, sadly enough.

In any case, as Kamui oh-so-delicately excused himself, Sinclair felt as if some gross breach of etiquette had been made and half of him wanted to correct it, but the other half had Lita in mind, and in the end, he had to do some quick mental arithmetic to decide his next course of action. Hell, he hadn’t even gotten the younger were’s name — what kind of a host, however impromptu, would be so… tactless, letting that happen? In aggravation, he nearly slapped his own forehead; his image held him back, but he hopped to attention (figuratively, of course, because what tiger in their right mind would hop, I ask you), taking long strides after the fox, noticing for the first time since his shift that he felt smaller, naked, less like the leader of a convoluted pack of big cat lycanthropes than he did like a normal man with bills to pay and a semi-family to come home to every night. It made the experience, what had just occurred, that much more real. He was almost out into the street entirely when he stopped, almost smirking at the sight of the fox, looking even more like a kid, with his too-big clothes and vaguely surly expression.

A low, resonant growl sounded in the back of his throat, a tiger’s version of a “Hey, you!” that had been a labor of love to Sinclair, who hated that his human vocal chords naturally had no such device to make a clear, attention-getting noise without looking like a complete fool. The other would hear it, he was sure — er, well, mostly sure; this were had surprised him in the past hour or so they had been in contact, so why should this instance be any different? Sinclair kept his comments to himself and instead waited for the boy to turn around — and even if he didn’t, he was going to go on anyway, because Sinclair was not one for waiting on people when they couldn’t be counted on anyway — and leaned himself up against a lamppost idly, brows knit together in a tight line as if to try and figure out just what the hell was wrong with this little kit. There just seemed no definitive conclusion.

“Your name, liebchen, you didn’t give me your name.”[/ul]

[kamui hikeme.]

Kamui pulled himself from the wall almost as soon as his legs allowed to begin walking off in the direction of his home. Underneath his breath he was growling, if the noise that came out of a fox's throat could be called that, but he didn't show any outward signs of it. He just wanted to be home, curl up in his bed, and sleep for probably the rest of the night. It would be a change from his usual nightly routine, but since his daytime routine had been messed up, why should he expect anything less of the conclusion to the day? Truly he didn't want to. He wanted company for at least part of his night, no matter what the reason that company might be there. Be it for sex or just to talk, he didn't care. Kamui was just someone who hated being alone. It made him feel rather insignificant and he didn't like that feeling. He much preferred being wrapped in someone's arms and feeling wanted at least for a short time.

A light sigh escaped his lips as he continued walking, stumbling a few times as his legs would protest certain movements still. Some people were looking at him weirdly, but he didn't care. He knew he probably warranted it anyway; what with the overly large clothes adorning his body as well as the occasional trip. Boy, did he ever hate having shifted back so soon. "I should have delayed leaving." He mumbled to himself, but in the back of his mind he knew that would have been impossible. Either for the fact he wouldn't have liked feeling confined to that bathroom with someone whose name he didn't even know or for the fact the little girl would have probably woken up soon. Another sigh and he was about to step off into the street to cross it, but a loud growl behind him caused him to snap his attention that way, one hand resting on a telephone pole to keep himself righted.

Without a doubt he was hugely surprised to see Sinclair resting against a lamppost further back. He knew the look on his face had to be something akin to wide-eyed shock and child-like curiosity. Why had he followed him? He had picked up the vibe that he needed to leave and do so as quickly as possible. Regardless of such, however, he only stayed in his spot for a moment longer before hesitantly walking over to stand near Sinclair. He heard the statement and blinked a few times. Why should his name matter at all? They weren't ever going to see each other again, he figured. Except when he brought his clothes back to him, that is. This made him confused a bit more than he already was at being called back to Sinclair, but regardless of such, he found his mouth responding before his brain registered it.

"Kamui. My name's Kamui." He could hear that his own voice was low, not in a challenging way, but more so out of hesitance. "Why should it matter?" Half of the guys he slept with had never even known his name, so why should someone who had no want for him in that way or any other care? It just didn't make a bit of sense in the young Werefox's mind. Still, he did have at least some semblance of etiquette to know enough to respond and reciprocate the question. "But what about your's?" Again with the low tone, though this time there was more softness to it. As if he was easing now around the other. He wasn't in the truest sense of the word, but more or less his body was relaxing out of instinct and want to rest. He paid his aching muscles no mind though as he awaited a response; half wondering if he was even going to get one due to whatever reasoning was going on in the feline's brain.

[emery sinclair.]

[/I] care about getting this whelp’s name. After all, there was little chance that he’d actually see him beyond this, even if they saw each other about town, because there was an even slimmer chance that Sinclair would even choose to acknowledge him. Their introduction had not been a good one, and for that, he felt as though by learning his name, they’d set the experience in stone — they would never be able to ignore this ever happened, would never be able to start afresh under the pretense they were complete strangers, never be able to conveniently ignore this whole embarrassing situation for the simple sake of their collective pride. Even still… it was rude to just let him leave like that, even if there were extenuating circumstances to be considered, and being rude was the worst sin one could commit in Emery Sinclair’s book — a sin that surpassed the severity of accidentally kidnapping a sentient being and nearly forcing him to become a plaything for his daughter.

Half of him expected the kit to just roll his eyes and continue walking, probably to go stick his head in a bucket of water in the hopes that the cold would shock his brain enough to force the memory of this train wreck of a first meeting out of his head forever. The sad thing was, Sinclair wouldn’t blame him, and the worst thing was, he couldn’t blame him. All of this, from start to finish, had been his fault, and while Sinclair was never a fond proponent of guilt or a sense of duty, he had to admit he felt a little bad about everything. Generally, being accidentally kidnapped and nearly forced into being a plaything for someone’s daughter tended to ruin one’s day. Or week. And hadn’t he said that most of his days were spent in pursuit of sex? Sinclair felt even worse about that, even if that had the least to do with his transgressions for the day. After all, what if he was going to go hang around some shitty bar to be hit on by some opportunistic bastard who’d get him drunk and drag him out back for the first chance to fuck him behind some shitty alley? God, Sinclair wouldn’t forgive himself if this Kamui’s face showed up on the twelve o’ clock news tonight or something.

Kamui. What a weird name. He’d heard weirder, of course, but… still. It lightened his mood a little, being given a name, and an ironic little twitch brought the side of his mouth upwards.

“Call me Sinclair,” he called simply, right before he nodded, turned around, and sauntered back home. Lita would pitch a fit if he was gone when she woke.

Mission accomplished.
[/ul]

[kamui hikeme.]

Once the other stated his name and walked off, Kamui noticed there seemed to be a note of finality to their encounter in that it was finally drawing to a close. Mildly the young werefox was stunned he hadn't even tried anything with the feline walking away from him. All he could guess was that it had to do with his daughter and the fact it was all in good etiquette to keep the innocent innocent for as long as possible. Especially after how Sinclair had reacted to his mere changing back to his human state within the vicinity of his sleeping daughter. Shrugging his shoulders lightly, Kamui decided not to think on it much longer and instead just turned around and padded his way back to his apartment building, which surprisingly wasn't all too far from where he was. It made him wonder a bit how he had not been able to recognize his whereabouts earlier when he'd been carried by the neck scruff. Must've had to do with fear, or something.

Once he was standing in front of his apartment building, he entered without a bit of care and took the stairs up to his own room. The overly big pants caused him to trip once or twice, but eventually he got his footing under him and made it to his apartment. As he slipped inside as he had guessed it was completely empty and void of all other life except for the cat sitting on the windowsill. A small smile played about his lips as he walked over and petted it a bit. When his fingers stroked over the collar he chuckled a bit. "I almost became like you today, Miko-chan." He laughed before moving away from the cat and proceeding to undress and crawl under the covers of his already messed up bed. The scent of sex clung to the sheets, but Kamui didn't mind. He was used to it.

Yawning widely, Kamui hugged the biggest pillow upon his bed to him and thought about his day. His encounter with Sinclair stuck out in his mind, but he guessed that was because of the pure absurdity of the situation he'd been thrown into with the feline. Captured and almost becoming a pet. It made him laugh a bit more. It wasn't a bitter laugh or anything as spiteful as that, but merely a good-natured half-laugh. He'd been in a lot of odd situations in his lifetime, but never one like that. I hope he doesn't mind me waiting until tomorrow to bring him his clothes, though. That thought alone reminded him that their encounter wasn't truly over just yet and he sighed at that. Was it a good or bad thing he would have to see the tiger again? Maybe it was neither. He didn't really know at this point in time as he drifted off to peaceful slumber.