He didn't know why but the way Bartholomew walked really pissed him off.
It was just something about it, and although it didn't effect Frankie directly; hell it probably made things easier since this way the hunter wasn't walking into shit or getting twatted in the face by low hanging branches when they hunted in the park….(even though that would have been funny as fuck), but it was just SOMTHING about the god damn 'crawling on the hands thing' that creeped Frankie out.
It just wasn't normal.
Made Bartholomew look like a dog, or some sort of freaky slinky toy when he went down the stairs, or more accurately when Frankie pushed him down the stupid stairs.
But.
He guessed.
Oh occasion it did have its plus sides.
Like when they walked up tall flights of stairs. When Bartholomew was a few feet in front of him. When the hunters ass was waving from side to side simply because of his crouched posture. When the midgets legs were slightly parted, and then the fact he was having the crawl slower then usual because of the rubble and debry, which meant Frankie could easily reach out, grab him by the back leg, and yank him back towards him in one quick motion and then proceed rut against him like a dog in heat for the next ten minutes because he'd worked him up into such a frenzy with that god awful ass swaying crawling walk he insisted on doing every second of the god damn day.
Yeh.
Then he didn't really mind it all that much.
But there wasn't a hope in hell he'd tell Bartholomew that.