In the storage closet of a shitty bar on the borders of Pupallup, a single shadowrunner sat on a throne of boxes, nursing a shitty beer. She stared at nothing - or, to be more accurate, she stared at where something would be if the hologram of her commlink was to decide to display something. It was the same place she had stared, off and on, for weeks. She was getting to know the staff here on a first-name basis.
When the noise came, it was almost swallowed in the hollow roaring in her ears. Almost. "Yes, Honey?"
The commbead flickered into life, displaying snippets of social media. A private message here, an offhand mention there, a 'based on a true story, no really' creepypasta on the side. Collated from a dozen different sources, all from the last few weeks.
Feral foxes. Psycho fox mom and her kid. Unknown predator lurking in the sewers. 'The Legend of the Pupallup Foxes'. 'I can't believe a baby fox almost fucking ate me!'
"I fucking told you I'd find them."
For the first time in weeks, Judy smiled.
