Protection - Fangle oneshot.

Protection Of A Lonely Vixen

A mechanical whirring fills a dark, musky room. Then a figure's eyes open, though, only one. The figure slowly gains consciousness, looking around the room without moving its head as it thinks.

"What am I doing here?"

Suddenly, an urge overwhelms him. A deep, strong, predatorial urge to hunt down a man – the only man – left in the building.

"Darkness," He thought, slowly and methodically climbing to his feet, sure not to make a singular noise as he practically crawls out the room. "The darkness is my cover. It's my haven," He continues, avoiding the light, not only for the cover of darkness, but also because his eyes were extra sensitive, and, being based on a vulpine, was made with basic night vision.

The figure rises to full height in a long corridor towards an office where the man sat, desperate to survive four more hours. Red outlines his vision, much like the crimson of his fur. His hooked arm slowly raises above his head as he arches his back, slowly stalking his prey down the hallway as he prepared to sprint and lunge over the desk at him. His maw open in anticipation to sink his metal teeth into the man's delicate flesh and brittle bone. If he had hackles, they would have been rose as well, but suddenly, he hears a low sob from another room.

The blind rage, instinct, that was once overwhelming his senses had backed off, his curiosity of whom the whimper had belonged to taking over.

He backed off from the hallway; instead going towards the main entertainment room with the same methodical and schemed stepping, which added with his natural agility, made him a cold, calculated hunter, swiftly and stealthily passing the main room where usually three other robots would stand at.

The three were instead hunting the guard, allowing him to avoid their usually scrutinizing gazes as they thought of him as suspicious.

He poked his head into a side room, carefully scanning the room and making full use of his night vision until his gaze fell upon fair, white vixen who resided in the corner of the room.

"I guess that's me counterpart. She's a beautiful, innocent lookin' lass, no wonder they probably never wanted me to see her, more or less possibly harm 'er... But, no, I could never do that," He thought, soon picking up a low sob which was undoubtedly coming from the balled-up fluff that was the snow-white vixen in the corner. He carefully examined her face, noticing she had a thinner, shorter muzzle then himself. Her shoulders also thinner, leading down to a slim waist and widening out slightly for what would supposedly be her hips. Nonetheless, she had a lithe, delicate frame.

A sense of concern grew within the withered and worn todd, causing him to slowly, and calmly approach the uneasy vixen, soon crouching down before reaching out and clasping his good hand on her shoulder-

Her head violently jerked up in surprise, but also fear. It was then he noticed several cuts along her stomach and chest, originally covered up by her arms and legs, along with the fluffed-up, bush of white, tipped with pink, which acted as her tail. Before he could notice anything else, however, her eyes caught him. Forcing him to stare into their golden, yellow light.

She quickly retreated further into the corner, hyperventilating, and staring in terror at the larger, scarred vulpine.

"I'm not 'ere ta harm ye, lass."

Her expression softened into one of relief, but also confusion.

"Me name be Foxy, I used to perform 'ere before te gang 'round there replaced us. Don't worry, I hold nothin' 'gainst ye, as ye were simply brought in here... But, I must ask; what's yer name, lass?"

She had a somewhat dumbfounded expression but soon loosened up her body as she continued to stare at him.

"My name is, was, Vixey... They now call me Mangle."