11-28-2009, 07:31 PM
feel free to powerplay them getting to the garage, of course. :o [html]
"Always appreciated," Anselm replied quickly, one brow raising as the gears in his head began to spin. Although the metal storm door was rather secure on its hinges and dead-bolted, he supposed anyone with enough time might be able to bust through it. Someone like this guy easily could within a couple hours, he reckoned, and even the average joe would figure out some way inside within a day. What options did he have for security? Perhaps a more obvious choice would be to simply transport the bountiful crop back to Inferni, to keep it locked up in one of the sheds near the mansion or something similar. That would reduce the risk of random vagabonds stealing away with his stash, but it also seemed like a lot of effort.[/html]
Where the hell was Abraxas? Surely the nutty fox could keep watch--then again, supposing he did spot intruders, he certainly couldn't do much about it. He'd be useless against even the smallest coyote on all fours. Perhaps he could trail them until they settled down for rest and go to Inferni to fetch the tattooed male--since they were on a peninsula, the main way to get out would necessitate the marauders going fairly close to his clan (baring naval capabilities, of course). Then again, he hadn't seen the schizophrenic animal since he'd left over a year ago.
He recalled something else just then, the fleeting mental image of a busted open safe with worthless green paper spewing out the door. Some words had been written on the side: Fireproof. Waterproof. Surely such a thing was air tight and would minimise the tell-tale smell that permeated the entire block at present. It would be a bitch to find one in operable condition (i.e., one that functioned and that he had either the key or combination to), but it might prove a decent fix for the winter. During the summer while the plants grew, he'd have to think of something else. Even so, he had at least a full season to figure it out.
That the other male answered easily with no hesitation was a good sign, and Anselm saw no reason not to trust his words. "Yea; come on if you want," he said, gesturing with his head in the direction from which he'd came. "It's the least I could do--things wouldn't have gone down very well at all if I'd been left to all five of 'em at once." From here he turned slowly, his hand still pressed on the gash on his arm carefully. The blood no longer bubbled up between his fingers, but he knew he'd have to take it easy for a few days while it scabbed over. He would give it better attention back at the garage, which was stocked with random supplies for just about any occasion under the sun. It was a risky move, maybe, turning his back to the giant, though his stride was confident and calm. Even still his ears twitched endlessly as he listened for any sounds of a charge... just in case.