draw [open]

[Nixon]

ooc; open to anyone~

There were some advantages to being 'of the Folk'. Yeah, yeah, most had no opposable digits, and weren't able to stand erect, but there were a few perks.

Nix found the most prominent to be that in essence, there was no discernible difference between him and your regular old dog.

Forcing your way through lines, you were often times overlooked. Just another homeless mutt scrounging for scraps, right? When someone cut in front of you in line or shoved you, unknowingly or otherwise, you could discreetly follow them and piss on their boots and then disappear, melting into the crowd. When someone tripped over you and found it necessary to open their damn faceholes and curse you out, you were free to cuss them out right back.

And then their were days like today, when the heat leeched any common sense or understanding, and all your self-preservation and courtesy was drained from you. When you dredged up all your grudges and spent the day wallowing in self-pity because you had no damn sweat glands like everyone else, and all you were able to do to keep cool was pant and drool at peoples' feet and then the jackass human ahead of you in line, waiting for tickets out of this sweatbox stepped on your paws, there was nothing holding you back from grabbing onto the bastard's tail and giving it a real good jerk.

And this was just what Nixon did.