A man with spiky brown hair wearing a brown button-up, thick green pants and green sneakers stops in front of a door in the complex. Fishes his phone out of his pocket to check something, put it back with a decisive nod, and waltzes into an apartment. A red six-tailed fox zooms past him followed by a steel bird. They stop short, deem the human male as Not-A-Threat™, and continues tracking down the fox kit. They pretend not to notice as the young fire-type gets behind them and bats at their body, moving just enough that the vulpix misses. Leaving the skarmory to it, he takes in a deep breath and follows the smell to the kitchen where he finds a petite, curly-haired woman intently mixing- dough? He waits to see if the woman would notice him, but all she does is readjust her sand-colored apron.

'What're you making?'

She jolts, a stripe of flour assaulting her face. Sneezes into her elbow, grabs a napkin, shakes her head; spins around. Wrinkles her nose at finding the male in her kitchen.

'Green! When'd you get here?'

[Hazel takes a glance around. "I don't think it's dirty."

Spots her furret conspicuously lounging on the coffee table amidst a pile of cookies, a linoone scolding the blissed out poke as she lightly swats Sly with her tail.

A lavender feline - her espeon - sits with narrowed eyes and a flickering tail in view of the kitchen. Kit is levitating a squirming vulpix kit before herself. The fox's fur is in complete disarray, and Hazel could see the espeon think to herself as to how many times she needs to teach the young fox that ladies should always take the time to groom themselves.

An arcanine's snout grins from the bedroom door, white mane floofing about it. She can hear low thumps of Yuuki's tail hitting the floor, letting her know the canine is happily relaxing.

Liet, a blue and cream badger, pads out onto the plant-covered balcony with a zubat and a bag of cereal, breathing heated smoke near the cacti, the zubat lazily blowing away the smoke. Zuat finds corner to relax in as Liet bounces over to throw pieces at the feebas in the living room.

A metallic bird with sword-like wings stands at attention. Agregria, so-named for her colouring, is in the corner wearing a tentacool as a hat - Hazel takes a double-take.

"How-? I don't wanna know."]

'What do you mean, 'How'? I walked in.'

She spots a light green ribbon hanging from his pocket and shoots him a look.

'Relaax,' he smirks. Waves off her concern, 'You left a spare at Red's, remember?'

'...And you just took it?'

'Well, yeah. Made a copy just in case.'

Palm briefly met face only to remember to dust off her hands. She looks up meet her friend's eyes. Purses her lips as he chuckles. He points at his face. Realization dawns as she wipes away the evidence.

'So what d'you need?'

'Nothing, nothing. Just curious to see your new place.'

Green gives the apartment a brief look-around and nods to himself, 'Not bad, not bad.'

'Is that all, or can I get back to baking yet?' The brunette rolls her eyes, turning to glare at the ball of dough once more, innocently cracking in some places.

'It needs more water.'

Hazel's snaps around to face the green-eyed brunet, 'What.'

'It needs more water. See how it's cracking? Just don't put enough it turns gooey and you should be fine,' he calls over his shoulder. Saunters over to the leather couch, laying down and making himself comfortable. Shoos her back into the kitchen with a wave of a hand and, 'Go on.' Unimpressed, Hazel follows his instructions.

'...'

'..What?'

'This is burnt,' Green points at the black broken lumps on the tray.

She unflinchingly stares him dead in the eye. The whirring of the stove's fan hums behind them. The doors are open, and the screeching of the fire alarm is giving her a headache while her zubat is vainly trying to blow the smell of burnt cookies out of the apartment.

'I know.'

Green gesticulates wildly as he tries to grasp the words.

'But how- I saw you put it in and take it out for the time needed- I even did it for you!'

Hazel shuffles a bit further from her friend before admitting she put the cookies back in the oven since she thought they didn't look finished.

'...'

Nodding, the brunet points at the petite woman, hand on his hip.

'You're not allowed to bake anymore,' the man decides.

She bristles.

'Hey! I can bake!'

'Just not well,' Green deadpans.