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[poetontheinside]

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[credere]

Credence trots up a few moments later, and tilts his head up at Ray. Foxes can be quite expressive.

[poetontheinside]

Holy shit.

“Holy shit. Is that you?” He crouches and instinctively goes to reach out and let him, stopping just short of the fox’s ears. The human need to pet a furry animal is fighting with the knowledge that Credence doesn’t really like to be touched.

[credere]

This knowledge is inaccurate, and Credence immediately pushes his head against Ray's hand. Yes, he will accept - nay, demand these pets.

[poetontheinside]

It makes him grin, and he goes all in: he just digs both hands into the fur, pulling him in a little. “Hey, buddy, hey. Hey— you doin’ alright?”

[credere]

Credence barks, once, because that's the closest thing he can offer to a yes. And if he changes back, the scritchies will stop.

[poetontheinside]

He knows foxes aren't dogs, but damn if he isn't being as cute and responsive as a dog right now. He keeps ruffling his fur, between his ears and on his sides.

"Man, you did a good job. You're definitely very cute. Is that weird? It's probably weird but it's still true."

[credere]

It is a little weird. Credence doesn't mind that, though. And eventually he takes a step back, shakes himself off a little and slides back into human form.

His clothes have come with him this time, thank God.

"Hi, Ray."

[poetontheinside]

Okay, that's weird. It goes a little too quickly for his eyes to follow, but somehow it still unsettles him, makes him feel like there's something twisting in his stomach. It's odd, and he doesn't get it, but at least it's cool.

He sits back, looking over at him. "Hey, Credence. That's-- really cool."

[credere]

Credence smiles faintly.

"It's a new thing," obviously. "I've been working on it for a while but I was able to do the last ritual at port."

[poetontheinside]

"What's the ritual like?"

He's imagining traditional witchcraft nonsense, thanks to his witchcraft nonsense friend Hilda where everything tends to be scary.

[credere]

“I had to keep a leaf in my mouth for a month,” he says, with a frown. “That went wrong a few times, so it took a while before I could make the potion. Then I had to drink it during a lightning storm.”

That’s the short version, but it’s enough, he thinks.

[poetontheinside]

"Wait-- you had a leaf in your mouth for a month?"

And he never noticed?

[credere]

“Just a small one. If you tuck it in here -“

He gestures to around where his left set of molars are.

“It’s hard to see there I just had to remember to chew on the other side of my mouth.”

[poetontheinside]

Huh.

He sits back a little, shaking his head in befuddlement, then pushes himself up.

"So why a fox?"

[credere]

Credence shrugs a little.

"I don't know. You don't get to choose what form you take, and you only get one. Quentin's turned me into a fox a couple times, and it was nice, so...maybe it's to do with that."

[poetontheinside]

"You don't get to choose, huh? So you could turn into a fly or something, too, if you get unlucky?"

[credere]

By the look that flits across Credence's face, he clearly hadn't thought of that, and it's clearly just as well that he didn't.

"...I guess you could," he says, frowning. None of his reading suggested that couldn't be the case.

[poetontheinside]

"Hey, you got lucky," he points out. "A fox is pretty cool."

[credere]

"I can climb trees," Credence says by way of agreement. "I didn't know foxes could do that."

[poetontheinside]

"Oh, yeah? Me neither."

He nods at the Enclosure. "You wanna show me?"

[credere]

Credence nods, then leans into the intercom and asks for a forest. Maybe that's a little vague, but what they get is cool and deciduous, with a scattering of high fluffy clouds and dappled sunlight falling through the leaves.

[poetontheinside]

He pushes through some low-hanging branches, nudging the door shut behind them.

"I didn't think I was a nature kinda guy before coming to the Barge," he comments, idly. "I guess I just wasn't a Lake-Michigan-kinda-guy."

[credere]

"I'd never seen anywhere like this before the Barge," he remarks quietly. "Not even the parks, really. Ma didn't like us going in those places."

Dens of iniquity, etc.

[poetontheinside]

"What, parks?"

He takes a second to think about it, imagines the amount of tramps and drug users and other weirdos, and has to admit: "Yeah, she probably wasn't wrong about parks. This is nice, though, right? And uh, Fraser took me ice-fishing here, once."

[credere]

"Oh. Was that...fun?"

Because it sounds kind of terrible, honestly.