Adder narrowed his eyes and lifted his head to watch the kids by the door. He was probably closer to an adult than they'd find, especially if independence and ability to survive alone were factored in. Besides, what would an adult do, or be able to do?

Right. An adult would somehow keep him from hurting the kid. If he somehow had reason to bother with that, and also happened to be within the adult's reach. And the adult had a power that could somehow actually stop him. Sure they could make for some nasty repercussions, but this was all in fictional la-la land where he actually wanted to hurt her.

Salt softy could stand up for herself, apparently. Adder approved, and rolled to his feet to stretch. Maybe he'd go track down those annoying suspicious kids later and give them a good scare. People like them were such a pain. Always thinking they knew better than everyone around them. Thinking that they could declare other people and their lives to be good or bad, useful or worthless. He should see how they liked knowing that they had no protection at all - after he was dry and warm. It was still towel time, and he dropped to the ground on his other side so the girl could keep drying him off.

Salt softy earned another snort. Anyone who smelled of predator at least had a shot at surviving. Rather, smelling of wild. Tame things struggled so much more on their own.

Abbigail turned back to her selfappointed task of drying her wolf friend. Oh, he had turned around. That was helpful. She shook her head before putting one of the dryer towels to wet fur.

"You're almost dried, I think," she hummed. "I wonder if there's anything left of dinner. I lost track of time earlier and missed it. That's where I was going when I found the puddles. Which were from you, Drowned Rat. That's probably what I'll do after I'm done: get dinner. Chicken sounds good. What do you think?"

Adder stretched his toes out, wrapped up in the feeling of being dry(ish) and warm(er). His fur was also starting to spring up again, being a great deal fluffier when dry than when wet, and the gold markings on his back no longer looked quite so bedraggled and miserable against his white.

And then salt softy mentioned food and his stomach growled even before his ears shot to attention and he squirmed to his feet. He wanted food. He frequently missed social-food-time because it was way too loud and crowded and it made even him lose his appetite.

He, uh, also wasn't the best at keeping track of or telling time. Everyone else relied on watches and phones and things, didn't they? He didn't have either, so they shouldn't blame him. Bleh.

Hey, he heard that! He growled a tiny bit at salt softy, though he couldn't put any actual anger into it and it ended up sounding more like a tease than a threat (too distracted by food, yay food, he was hungry, he was going to go get food now that she'd reminded him) and shook his head at her. Not. A. Drowned. Rat.

But there were more effective ways of diverting the subject when talking back wasn't possible, and so Adder turned and dashed out of the room with his tail streaming behind him.

Food!

Abby couldn't help giggling at the growl she got for her new nickname. Well, she didn't actually know his name so Drowned Rat would be his moniker until told otherwise. It was fun to tease him about it.

Suddenly he took off. After a moment of stunned... stunned-ness, Abbigail took off after him. "Hey! Wait up! she yelled after him. She really hated being short. A snarl rose from her throat before she put on a burst of speed. "Race ya," she laughed as she caught up.

Then the only thing she focused on was her feet on the floor and the turns she had to take to get to the kitchen. She was very happy she wasn't wearing shoes. She was faster without them. She slide around a corner and into the wall, bouncing off to make it the last stretch of the little race.