Travis Li Montgomery (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
designateddadfriend) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2021-02-04 10:52 am
designateddadfriend) wrote in fandomtownies2021-02-04 10:52 am
Entry tags:
At the corner of Mallard and Sphinx, Thursday morning
Travis had gotten a call.
A collision on the corner of Mallard Way and Sphinx Street, vehicle versus pedestrian, aid car--such as it was--requested.
Finally!
Not that he was excited someone was hurt, mind you. Of course not. It as good when first responders got bored, because it meant everyone was safe and comfortable. He was glad no one had needed his help all week, of course he was!
--Yeah, okay, screw that, he was definitely excited. He could only polish the damn fire pole so many times, okay?
He pulled up to the scene, siren blaring, and hopped out. The driver of what looked like a perfectly intact rickshaw came rushing over, frantic.
"Thank god you're here!" she shouted. "You've got to help him. He came out of nowhere."
Travis put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, hefting his kit. "It'll be okay, ma'am. Just show me where he is, okay?"
The woman pointed. "He's right there."
Travis looked. All the excitement bled right back out of his body.
".... Ma'am, that's a raccoon."
"I think he works at the brewery," the driver said. Her hands were shaking, and while her face was still dry, she was clearly close to tears. "Oh god, please tell me I didn't kill him!"
".... But it's an actual raccoon."
"Help him!"
The real distress in her voice snapped Travis into action and he hurried over to where the ... raccoon lay, its--his?--tongue lolling out the side of his--its--mouth, all four paws in the air. Travis gingerly put his fingers to its neck, and wondered if you checked a raccoon's pulse the same way you did a human's.
"He's alive," he said. He bent down, ear to the thing's snout, and hoped it didn't bite him. "Breathing sounds okay." He palpated its chest, then pulled out his penlight to examine its pupilary response, all the while wondering what his life had come to. He was not animal control! "Ma'am, I think he'll be okay."
"Oh thank god!" The rickshaw driver threw her arms in the air. "Thank you, Jesus!"
The raccoon's tail twitched, and as Travis sat back on his heels, it rolled over and climbed unsteadily to its feet. It gave them both a half-hearted hiss, then wobbled its way into the alley.
"Thank you!" the rickshaw driver crowed, flinging her arms around Travis's neck. "Oh thank you, thank you so much!"
"Just--doing my job, ma'am." Travis gingerly tried to remove her arms from his shoulders. ".... We should probably both get rabies shots."
[open!]
A collision on the corner of Mallard Way and Sphinx Street, vehicle versus pedestrian, aid car--such as it was--requested.
Finally!
Not that he was excited someone was hurt, mind you. Of course not. It as good when first responders got bored, because it meant everyone was safe and comfortable. He was glad no one had needed his help all week, of course he was!
--Yeah, okay, screw that, he was definitely excited. He could only polish the damn fire pole so many times, okay?
He pulled up to the scene, siren blaring, and hopped out. The driver of what looked like a perfectly intact rickshaw came rushing over, frantic.
"Thank god you're here!" she shouted. "You've got to help him. He came out of nowhere."
Travis put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, hefting his kit. "It'll be okay, ma'am. Just show me where he is, okay?"
The woman pointed. "He's right there."
Travis looked. All the excitement bled right back out of his body.
".... Ma'am, that's a raccoon."
"I think he works at the brewery," the driver said. Her hands were shaking, and while her face was still dry, she was clearly close to tears. "Oh god, please tell me I didn't kill him!"
".... But it's an actual raccoon."
"Help him!"
The real distress in her voice snapped Travis into action and he hurried over to where the ... raccoon lay, its--his?--tongue lolling out the side of his--its--mouth, all four paws in the air. Travis gingerly put his fingers to its neck, and wondered if you checked a raccoon's pulse the same way you did a human's.
"He's alive," he said. He bent down, ear to the thing's snout, and hoped it didn't bite him. "Breathing sounds okay." He palpated its chest, then pulled out his penlight to examine its pupilary response, all the while wondering what his life had come to. He was not animal control! "Ma'am, I think he'll be okay."
"Oh thank god!" The rickshaw driver threw her arms in the air. "Thank you, Jesus!"
The raccoon's tail twitched, and as Travis sat back on his heels, it rolled over and climbed unsteadily to its feet. It gave them both a half-hearted hiss, then wobbled its way into the alley.
"Thank you!" the rickshaw driver crowed, flinging her arms around Travis's neck. "Oh thank you, thank you so much!"
"Just--doing my job, ma'am." Travis gingerly tried to remove her arms from his shoulders. ".... We should probably both get rabies shots."
[open!]