YOU DON'T KNOW ME // JOINING

[JAILBIRD]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Jailbird had never met many raccoons, but he saw one every now and then, and none of them were ever as disheveled as this guy. He didn't think some of them would take "trash panda" to heart and emulate it as entirely as this guy was. Jailbird wasn't a stranger to getting in the muck, to bloodying himself and having it dry before he could find somewhere to clean it off better, so he wasn't judging. Mostly. He doubted he looked comely at the moment, considering he just fell through a canopy. The feline didn't plan on ever doing that again, if at all avoidable; he'd make some damn stairs if he had to just to avoid crashing through leaves and the possibility of death.

Huffing, ribs quietly protesting -they could fuck off too- Jailbird glanced away from the raccoon, back to the direction he'd originally wanted to investigate. If the bastard lived, he was going to have to find something nastier to finish him off with. Maybe tie some rocks to his legs and push him into a lake? Not quite as satisfying as watching him plummet however many feet, screaming the whole way down, but at least it guaranteed death. Unless he somehow got free. That'd be Jailbird's luck.

"My sugar daddy," he drawled dryly, sapphire gaze back on the raccoon. "You look like you need one." Not judging, not judging. "Actually, a dead body. Maybe a smear. Not sure." If he was dead. He hated that possibility, but the bastard was a cockroach.

[align=right][i]INFORMATION