Bluff Stern Yikes, Dude.
Gideon slept about three hours the night prior. Between work and overthinking he couldn’t find his sleepy rhythm and now here he was at Bluff Stern at 8:30 in the morning when it was dead as all hell and the food was bound to be subpar. He couldn’t wait though. A greasy sandwich with dripping cheese sounded perfect for him to wake up and he’d soon have it. That lovely delicacy reminiscent of drunken nights visiting fast food joints and pissing off night shift employees.

When his foul breakfast arrived, he exited the building (after paying and tipping, of course) and stepped into the cold morning air to take his first bite. Which would coincidentally be his very last. Whatever had been served to him, was wrong. Leftover meat and rotten eggs slammed on outdated bread.

Gideon sprinted to the nearest trash can, about three yards away, and exploded his terrible decision making out from his stomach into the waste bin.

”Fuck me!” He exclaimed, wiping what remained on his mouth with the greasy napkin.
No thanks, she might have said, being rather old. But did it matter when she was shifted? Hardly.

Grey in otter form had never been above trash diving. She was just coming from a stint in Bluff Stern's dumpster when she noted a man with apparently a delicate stomach, sluicing his contents into the nearest bin. Hello.

Her nose twitched. He was, as far as she could tell, not a were. And she didn't know how to identify a vampire, yet. Nor did she know what made a psychic any different from a human (there was no sense that could have told her, to be fair, unless they were actively doing what they did).

But as far as she knew, he was both bite-able and also carrying more food. There were choices to be made! She sprinted forward, aiming to hit him in the back of his knee to perhaps make him buckle. And drop the food? Maybe.

miss >:[

”Ughhhh.” Gideon groaned poetic from the awful convulsion he’d just experienced. His stomach hurt like hell and why was he eating here anyways? He had an open invite to see Grace at Reuben’s. Would have been a far better decision. He let go of the trash can to pull an old piece of gum off the side and onto his palm. Made him almost want to puke again. He needed to wash his hands.

As he turned to leave the scene of the crime he was witness to an… Otter rushing him? He avoided the impact just barely and stared in astonishment? Was he fucking dreaming? What was happening today?

”Hey what’s your fucking problem, river rodent?!”
Boom. Hit the trash can instead, sending it wobbling precariously.

Grey fumbled back, shook her head, and chattered. What a shame. Give her that sandwich, boy!

She made a leap for it in his hand, mouth hungry and open.

HIT, up to you if she just gets the sandwich or any fingers too

”What do you waAHHHHHHHHH!” Gideon’s luck was never his strongest suit. Nor was his strength. And as it turned out even his marriage finger wasn’t screwed on that tight. Either that or the otter had just the sharpest teeth ever. A surprisingly clean cut but still. It fucking hurt. And he was bleeding.

Gideon wanted nothing more than to kick this piece of shit water rat in its face but couldn’t manage to break away focus from the insane pain he was feeling.


He fell to a knee, ironically if you’d ask some, and choked back tears.
Eheheh. She got more than she intended. A foul sandwich that she would happily eat anyway, and also a finger. Grey crunched into it with all the ferality of a wild animal, even if she was several leagues beyond it. She'd been this way long enough.

She watched the man, though remained ready to run off if he came after her. But would it change him? Would he regenerate? Or was this another failure?

She yearned to know.
The pain was excruciating. He had the nasty napkin to try and contain it but that was making it much worse. Was he really about to dial 911? Alongside animal control to get this thing locked the fuck up or back to the wild. Certainly wasn’t okay around people, that was for sure.

Gideon grabbed a nearby rock and hurled it at the otter. He whiffed, horribly, but could you blame a guy who was just maimed?

”What the fuck are you staring at?! You got yours and more!”
She did, didn't she? Grey dodged the rock, but still strained her eyes to look at the finger. Just... to be sure?

Just to be sure. She just wanted to be sure.
Gideon reached for his phone to call an ambulance, but couldn’t juggle the situation. His phone hit the ground with a clatter and he cursed to the sky again.
He was keeping pressure on his newfound nub attempting to cut the blood flow off.

”Dude, why the fuck…” He was growing more and more visibly upset. At the same time his fervor was fading, energy was dwindling.
She couldn't see. Couldn't see! And it was very frustrating. But he was struggling a whole lot with that phone, and she didn't need to stick around to be identifiable. Grey turned and fled, prizes held tight in her mouth.

Maybe she could find him another time. She had his finger, after all >:[

(Well. She'd eat that.)
Gideon reached for his hand, unfortunately letting more blood seep out from his finger as he dialed 911 as fast as he could. As it rang he watched the otter turn and run with his finger and awful sandwich.

”NEXT TIME ITS YOUR FUCKING HEAD, RAT!” Not realizing he shouted that as the operator greeted him.
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