[b]Cold Nights[/b] Quincy was walking home from his job at the coffee shop, passing by the pretty decorations and displays people had set up. It was rather dark out so there weren't too many people out on the streets. It had gotten colder as of late so he was wearing his classic red hoodie, white sweatpants, an interesting kind of boot of sorts that fit on his oddly shaped feet and ankles, white wool gloves, and a black and grey striped scarf that was wrapped around his neck. One of the ends was loose and blew in the breeze. He passed by a small bakery. It was closed, of course, so the lights were out. He continued on without stopping, humming a tune to himself. His hood was down, letting his longer headfur drape over his eyes and droop a little down to his neck, it was like hair. He occasionally passed by people, who either gave him looks of confusion or looks of utter distaste. He ignored the ones who were rude and smiled to those who looked puzzled by him. He yawned as he sat on a bench by an intersection, rubbing his nose to warm it up. He had been thinking lately, wondering if he should leave for a while, take a break from the craziness of the Dojo. As he thought about this, he heard footsteps to his left. [spoiler]Open.[/spoiler] [spoiler]They're your footsteps.[/spoiler]