(( *brushes off shoulders, cracks neck* ._o Owwwwwww! Mmm...lets see if I remember how to do this...))
Fox stumbled through the dark alleyway before him, a constant drizzle of blood running down the right side of his face. An obvious limp implied that he was in worse shape than his already battered face was showing, though his body was somehow finding the strength to drag him somewhere. Heh...maybe there's a graveyard out here somewhere. A nice long sleep would feel really good right about now.
Yet, when the doors of the bar that he and his brother had frequented months ago finally loomed before him, he couldn't help but to curse at his misfortune. A small sniff of the air around the bar revealed that only one or two people had been near this place within the past week, if that. The chance that he'd find someone here to patch him up seemed to require a miracle at this point.
With an exhausted sigh, Foxfire propped his back up against the door to the deserted bar, noting that the air around him seemed to be getting colder by the moment. "Well, this is it, Foxfire old buddy," he muttered to himself, his foxin ears dipping low against the side of his head. Shaking, he managed to pull his tail around to his front, using it as a makeshift blanket. "Still cold as hell, b-but it'll have to do...," he stuttered, gently closing his eyes and trying to blot out the cold and pain.