Is Butterscotch. The angle of his head and the shift of his eyes make her look like he is checking her out.That rabbit. That fucking creepy rabbit... ...he had been crazy about Butterscotch when she was little. She didn’t need her mother reminding her of that. And now, here he is again. His colors are a little faded, but he is still the same. Time changes things, it did her. So why would Butterscotch be any different?Butterscotch. Fucking Butterscotch... “What the fuck are you looking at?” she. “Some hunters!” she yelled gleefully, and bolted away, her feet barely seeming to touch the ground. In just a few seconds, she had disappeared into the thick brush.“Holy fuck!” Tony yelled, clambering to his feet. “What the fuck was that all about?”Ric couldn’t answer. He was laughing too hard. But he was watching! If one of the twins had been hiding in a tree, perhaps the other was treed, as well.Pretending to look where the girl had vanished into the brush, Ric casually turned, searching .... In the still air that welcomes dawn, stray dogs pad the pavement sniffing at traces laid earlier adding their stain against the soft stone plinth etched from years of abuse and neglect eventually to crumble like the metal sheet of the courtyard door, now a filigree of rust at its extremities ravaged by canine and weather. A column of ants march through an opening between hastily erected bricks feasting on the dead carcase of a bird or rodent within, extracting sustenance from the sweetness of. I just needed to learn to control my tongue some more. Still, I managed to say, “Yes, Sharon, we did agree to this.” “Good. So I am going out now but I want you to think about how to control what you say so you are not as rude to me in future. I know you just think they are your opinions but believe me you are just plain rude to me, and to others most times. However, now you are under the One Strike Rule you won’t get any second chances, today or tomorrow.” I looked at Sharon and although.