Suspicions, Foxy
“Thank you for your cooperation, class. Remember, these review packets need to be done by class Wednesday. You can use the next five minutes to talk amongst yourselves but I ask you don’t leave your desks, please.”
“Whatever,” Foxy muttered to himself, turning in his seat to look at his friends. The twins had immediately gone into conversation with one another, but strangely enough Bonnie hadn’t joined them. The red fox shared a look with Chica, who rolled her eyes.
“He’s watching Rodriguez,” she muttered and Foxy frowned, glancing back at Bonnie. She was right. “Probably because of earlier.”
“Earlier?” Foxy repeated, raising a brow.
“Tell ya later,” Chica dismissed with a slight wave of her feathery hand. “Doesn’t really matter, anyway.”
Foxy shrugged slightly; there wasn’t really any way he could deny that. “Ya know,” he started, holding up the packet and flipping through it, “I wonder if this’ll put our plans this evenin’ on hold.”
“Oh please,” Chica snorted, leafing through the packet. “We can finish these in an hour or two, tops. Plenty of time for pizza and videogames.”
“Good. What movies do ya think will be on the marathon this weekend?”
“Hopefully something fun,” Chica sighed. “I vote Mummies.”
Foxy gave her a grin. “Lemme guess, first two, not the third?”
“Duh,” Chica snorted, giving him a grin back. “Just like we know damn well we won’t be watching the fourth Indiana Jones.”
“There’s a fourth one?” Foxy asked innocently, tilting his head to the side. The chicken in front of him laughed.
“Oh, Foxy, you silly little fox,” she chuckled. Foxy grinned and looked back towards the others. His wide grin morphed into a slight scowl as he realized all three of them were watching Fischbach, Salvage, and Rodriguez, who either didn’t give a damn or were completely oblivious.
The fox leaned over, focusing on Bonnie- who was very openly staring at the three weirdoes- and called, “Bonnie.” The rabbit did react… by lifting his hand in Foxy’s direction, holding one finger up. Just a moment.
He was being brushed off by one of his best friends… because of Bonito Rodriguez.
Are you fucking serious, Bonnie?
Foxy turned to look at Chica, brows raised. Chica simply shrugged in response, clearly unable to say why Bonnie was acting that way, but a frown on her face told Foxy she had her suspicions.
Instead of dwelling on it, though, he just sighed and said, “Well, ya already know my vote is on the Caribbean movies.”
“Again?” Chica groaned, leaning on her desk. “We watched those at least three times over summer, Foxy.”
“And we’ll damn well watch them again,” Foxy declared with a grin, snickering as Chica groaned. “Come on, even you have to admit those movies are good. A bit inaccurate, but good!”
“The first one’s good,” Chica shot back, “though the love story was really boring to me.”
Foxy rolled his amber eyes at his friend. “Of course it was,” he snorted, stretching his arms above his head. “Ya’ve never much been into that kind of thing.”
The bell rang at that moment, signalling the end of class, and Foxy leapt out of his seat- just barely avoiding a collision with Goldie, out of his own seat just as fast. Chica stood up much more calmly as Freddy and Bonnie also stood up, shaking her head towards Foxy and Goldie. Foxy stuck his tongue out at her and headed for the door, the others following behind.
“Hypocrite.”
“I’ll have you know that I am a proud hypocrite, thank you very much.”
Foxy scowled at the snatch of conversation he caught as he passed his weird classmates. Outside of the classroom, he paused to wait for Bonnie and Freddy to join them. As the two best friends stepped out of the classroom, they resumed walking. The conversation from the classroom melted into the sounds around, becoming muted until Foxy could no longer even distinguish their voices.
“Thank god it’s only one class,” Goldie snorted and Foxy nodded slightly in agreement, frowning. Oh, sure, they had their second period gym class with the weirdoes, but they didn’t have to actually interact with them there.
And now I have to actually meet with the freak outside of school? Jesus Christ…
He dropped down beside Goldie at their table, hardly glancing at the jock sitting next to him, and pulled his lunch out. “That was really weird,” Goldie finally declared and Foxy frowned; he did not want this conversation in front of their supposed “friends.”
“Weird?” Chica repeated and Foxy glanced at her. He huffed softly.
“You didn’t even talk to your partner,” he accused with a sharp frown. “It was really weird. Somethin’s off about Blanc.” Was there really any way to explain it, though? Everyone knew something was off about Blanc- no one even knew if the fox was male or female, for Pete’s sake. “He, she, it, whatever is really weird.”
“Maybe there’s a reason,” Freddy mused thoughtfully. Foxy frowned and leaned forward, looking past Goldie towards the brown bear; he was looking at his fork, a soft frown in place. Well of course there’s a reason, Freddy, but I frankly don’t give a damn.
“What do you mean?” Bonnie asked, a matching, knowing frown on his face as he looked at Freddy. Foxy scowled.
Can we not talk about those freaks? Especially here when we should be eating?!
“It’s nothing,” Freddy decided to say after several moments of silence. Anticlimactic much?
Goldie turned to look at Foxy and Chica, a frown on his own face. The red fox felt slightly validated, noticing Chica and Goldie both looked as annoyed as he felt. It was good to know that he wasn’t alone; Freddy and Bonnie were the strange ones this time around, not him.
“They’re complaining about getting partnered with us,” Bonnie suddenly said, irritation seeping into his voice. Foxy hoped that meant the rabbit would drop whatever he was thinking. “As if they have any right to complain, we’re the ones stuck with a bunch of weirdoes.”
Foxy picked his sandwich up. “Here here,” he agreed, taking a bite out of his sandwich. Good to know you still have your senses.
“But you know, Freddy,” Bonnie suddenly added and Foxy glanced over towards him, ears flattening. “I agree. I think there’s a reason for it.”
The silence that descended over the five friend was unfamiliar and tense. Foxy didn’t like it. He turned back to his lunch, ignoring the conversation the jock next to him was now carrying, and continued eating his sandwich. The fact that Vivien Blanc and their friends could bring this silence over the five of them irked Foxy to no end. The worst part was he had no answer to quiet Bonnie and Freddy’s questions.
Across the cafeteria he could hear laughter.
“Oh god dammit.”
The words fell from his lips before he could even really register what he was seeing. Whatever it was, though, it ended abruptly.
Vivien Blanc, Spring Salvage, and Charlotte Kain’s gazes all snapped over to the door, their laughter cutting off; Alfred Fischbach jerked forward to catch Bonito Rodriguez before he could hit the floor. It took Foxy a moment to realize that Rodriguez had been spinning around on the swivel stool in the back of the classroom, and for whatever reason his words disrupted the five friends’ fun, causing the blue rabbit to lose his balance.
Wish he’d fallen, Foxy thought bitterly as Rodriguez started laughing, following Freddy to the front table and dropping down into a seat between Bonnie and Chica.
“So,” Freddy started, “what movies were we wanting to watch this weekend?”
Instantly Foxy’s scowl was replaced with a grin. Leaning forward to look around Bonnie and Goldie, he called out, “All of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies!”
From next to him, Chica began laughing and added, “Well, I wanna watch the first two Mummy movies this time.”
“The Indiana Jones Trilogy,” Goldie finally put in, grinning widely. Foxy was tempted to ask about the fourth one.
“This is going to be a long weekend then,” Freddy chuckled, clearly amused by their choices. “While we’re at it let’s add National Treasures to it.”
“Leave it to you to say National Treasures,” Chica laughed, shaking her head. “Sounds like we got a weekend planned.”
A few seconds of silence passed without a fifth suggestion being pushed in. Foxy frowned as both him and Goldie turned to look at their purple rabbit. Bonnie was watching them, but his lips were pursed and his brows drawn together, ears perked as much as a lop-eared rabbit’s ears could be. Foxy’s own ears twitched and he scowled, realizing just what had Bonnie’s attention.
“What’d you have in mind, Mangle?”
“War by the water.”
“Didn’t someone nearly fall in the lake last time we did that? Well it’s got my vote~!”
“Bonnie?” Goldie tried and Foxy watched, irritated, as the rabbit didn’t react at all. “Bonnie?” he repeated, lifting a hand to wave in front of Bonnie’s face. “Booonniiieeee.”
“...yeah. We could definitely use a little vacation.”
Foxy jerked slightly, shaking his head. Stop it, Foxy, tune them out. He looked at Goldie again, scowling as he noticed Goldie watching him with a strange expression. The golden bear turned his attention back to the rabbit.
“Bonnie, Earth to Bonnie.” Finally, the rabbit seemed to enter reality and he blinked at them, surprised. Then he grinned and waved slightly at the bear.
“Sorry, lost in thought,” Bonnie said distractedly and Foxy frowned.
“I noticed,” Goldie snorted, though the way his brows drew together told Foxy he was somewhat worried about the rabbit. He seems to have an unhealthy fixation on those weirdoes all of a sudden. “You didn’t even tell us what movie you wanted to add to the marathon. Really, though, what’s got you so distracted? You’re not usually like this.”
Bonnie gave him a noncommittal shrug and Foxy looked back at Chica, whose brow was furrowed in concern. Her expression morphed into confusion and the fox looked back towards Bonnie just to find him turned around in his seat, watching the back of the studio.
Oh, right, that’s not obvious at all, Bonnie!
“Creep,” Foxy snorted, turning to look at Chica again. “What’s gotten into him?”
“They’ll be too drunk to even remember the next morning.”
It was Blanc’s voice. Foxy’s ears twitched as Chica raised a brow, the same question hanging between them; Who?
It wasn’t spoken loudly but it definitely carried across the room; anyone who wanted to could have easily heard that, as evidenced by the fact that Chica had heard it too… and she didn’t exactly have the best hearing in the world.
“Wanna talk about weird?” Bonnie suddenly muttered as he turned back around, catching Foxy and the others’ attention. “I’ll tell you guys everything later.”
That struck Foxy as odd. “Everything?” he repeated incredulously, staring at his friend. He scowled. “Wait, why are you suddenly so interested in those weirdoes?” he demanded, confusion seeping into his voice. Out of all of them to become so interested in that group, Bonnie was definitely the last person he expected. Bonnie had always disliked them even more than Foxy himself did. “We’ve spoken to them all of once. We’re their science partners, not their friends.”
“You don’t need to be friends to know something’s going on here,” Bonnie huffed, glaring slightly at Foxy. Before Foxy could even think of a retort, the rabbit turned towards the board in front and added, “I’m not waiting for someone to fucking die before I’m willing to do something, weirdoes or not.”
That shut Foxy up. Yet another tense silence fell over them and Foxy watched as Bonnie simply sat there, not explaining anything. On Bonnie’s other side, Goldie looked shocked to the core and Freddy simply frowned, turning his head away with narrowed eyes. He didn’t look surprised at all by Bonnie’s words.
When Goldie broke the tense silence, his voice was too low to carry far. “Die? What the hell do you think’s going on that makes you think one of them’s gonna get killed?” he demanded. This was an answer Foxy wanted to hear, too.
However, at that moment the bell rang and a red-haired man stood up and made his way to the front of the room. “Later,” Bonnie hissed, just loud enough for all of them them to hear.
“Everyone quiet down now!” Jumping slightly, Foxy turned his gaze to the human up front, who was grinning around at all of them. He sounded much too cheery for Foxy’s mood and somehow that only brought him down more. “Up front, all eyes please, so we can get this over and done with and get started on having fun. Alright then, everyone settled? Good. I’m Fritz Smith and this is art…"
The air was tense in Bonnie’s bedroom. No one dared to speak up and ask Bonnie what he meant, and equally Bonnie didn’t dare speak up about it without invitation.
Foxy honestly hoped no one gave him that invitation. He didn’t want to talk about it. There was a twisting in his stomach, a knot of dread perhaps, and he didn’t want to know what was going through the rabbit’s mind. He certainly didn’t want it to make sense.
It was so much easier to just dismiss everything as them being weird. Unusual. The kind of people that normal members of society don’t interact with- the kind that people like Foxy and his friends kept their distance from.
Bonnie and Freddy both seemed to be suggesting that they weren’t just weirdoes… but that they had a damn good reason for it. Foxy didn’t want to hear it.
It was Chica who cracked, surprising Foxy. He had been so sure it would be Goldie, but it was his only female friend’s voice that demanded, “Bonnie, what the fuck did you mean earlier?”
Rolling his eyes, Foxy looked up at his friends. He made his annoyance very clear, despite the twisting sick feeling in his stomach. Those words had been plaguing him- and, he was sure, his friends- all day.
Bonnie seemed shocked at the question. “What do you mean what the fuck did I mean? I think I was very clear.”
Before Chica could respond, Freddy said, “Yes. You were clear in the fact you think one of them is likely to die. What we don’t understand is how you came to that conclusion.”
“And after only one conversation,” Foxy cut in as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall to better see the rabbit sitting on the bed. “C’mon, Bonnie, you’re just reading too much into their words.” It quickly became apparent that that was not the right thing to say as Bonnie scowled, his eyes narrowing slightly, but Foxy felt like it needed to be said. “We don’t even know them,” he continued insistently, trying to get the rabbit to understand. “We’ve only spoken to them once and you’ve only overheard their conversations, what, a couple times? You’re hearing what you want to hear.”
“He’s got a point,” Goldie agreed, not backing down when Bonnie’s frown was turned on him. “You have a suspicion about somethin’, so your mind’s twisting things to match it. It’s pretty common, actually.”
From his spot beside Goldie, Freddy shifted uneasily. “I don’t know,” he started, glancing around at them before focusing on Bonnie. “Somethin’ does seem… off.”
They are off, Freddy! That’s why they’re the school weirdoes! When the fox opened his mouth to say as much, though, Freddy suddenly glared at him, as though sensing the oncoming interruption. “And I’m not just talkin’ about how strange they are.” Foxy shut his mouth and scowled; Freddy had known exactly what he was about to say. “I think Bonnie’s right, somethin’s going on. And you’re right, too, Foxy; we don’t know them,” the bear sighed. He seemed to hesitate, as if wondering if he should continue.
Foxy wished he wouldn’t.
“We see only what they let us see,” Freddy said slowly, choosing his words carefully. He frowned before adding, “Well… Supposedly we only see what they want us to see.”
“Supposedly?” Chica repeated, raising a brow at their friend. Foxy simply scowled. “What do you mean supposedly?”
The bear simply shrugged before saying, “When you’re not used to people watching you or paying you any attention, you’re bound to screw up.” Then he turned to Bonnie. “Bonnie? Context, please?” Bonnie’s scowl slipped away in favor of pursed lips and a furrowed brow, clearly thinking.
You’re reading too much into things, Bonnie…
“Well,” Bonnie started slowly, really thinking about his words. “When we were doing that stupid questionnaire thing, Rodriguez… had a freak-out, I guess? He just suddenly… froze up,” Bonnie explained, sounding unsure of himself. “Like, he wasn’t even breathing. And when I tried to say something, he got really, uh…”
The rabbit trailed off, looking conflicted and unsure. Chica, however, seemed to know what he was talking about as she muttered, “Oh.” Foxy looked at the chicken sitting at Bonnie’s desk; she was watching their purple friend with a frown. “That’s what that was about, huh? He sounded really pissed, Bonnie.”
Huh? Is this what Chica was referencin’ earlier?
“You heard that, huh?” Bonnie sighed and Chica simply nodded a confirmation. Bonnie continued with, “I don’t know what set him off, really. He wasn’t just angry, he was scared. Terrified, even. I don’t even know what I did to scare him but he didn’t seem all there.”
What’s that supposed to prove?
“So you did something to scare him,” Foxy scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. He ignored the way Bonnie frowned sharply at him. “That doesn’t mean anything, Bonnie.” He could have been scared of anything.
Bonnie’s red eyes met Foxy’s amber and Foxy couldn’t help but pause. Something about the way the rabbit was looking at him made that twisting ball of dread shift. He just knew Bonnie was about to say something- something that would change everything.
He didn’t want him to say it.
Looking him straight in the eye and without an ounce of uncertainty, Bonnie declared, “A bloody bandage does, though.”
The twisting ball of dread seemed to curl around his heart now. There were many things a bloody bandage could mean- he could have just fallen down. There were so many things it could have been but he couldn’t get the words to work. He just watched Bonnie silently, waiting for an explanation.
The rabbit continued speaking after letting the silence reign for several seconds. “When we went into the art room his shirt rode up when Fishbach pulled him to his feet. You guys were talking about our marathon and I was watching them, ‘cause they had said some really weird things. He had a bandage wrapped around his abdomen and there was blood on it- and I wasn’t just seeing things, ma’s a doctor, I know a bandage when I see one.”
Chica shifted uneasily in her seat and Foxy was feeling very strange. He felt sick; he wasn’t stupid, after all. He knew what kind of things Bonnie was suggesting. There were many things that bandage could mean, though, and he clung to that fact and tried to keep his voice confident and strong as he said, “So he probably fell. It doesn’t mean anything.” However, even he could detect the waver in his voice. His words, so confident, were defeated by his tone.
Before anyone could make a retort, Freddy suddenly blurted out with, “Fischbach’s practically mute.”
They all turned their eyes to Freddy, confusion on all of their faces and surprise on Freddy’s own. Clearly he hadn’t meant to actually say that and he frowned to himself.
Goldie was the first to respond with, “Huh? No he’s not, I heard him talking.”
Freddy let out a long-suffering sigh as he said, “Practically. I didn’t say he is. I thought he was being rude at first but he was legitimately struggling to say anything.” The bear paused, frowning, before continuing with, “He looked really ashamed about it, too. I basically had to watch him the entire time… which is kind of awkward but yeah...” He trailed off, looking uncertain about whether he should tell them more.
Without a doubt Foxy’s vote was on no, but Chica asked, “And that has anything to do with a bloody bandage because…?” Silently Foxy cursed his luck; with every word spoken he began to feel slightly more awful, that ball of dread spreading like a disease through his abdomen and chest.
“He had a bruise around his wrist, too,” Freddy answered and Foxy’s heart raced. “He rubbed his wrist and ended up pulling the fur back and I noticed it. I didn’t really get a good look, considering I was only glancing, but it… looked a lot like a hand.” Foxy’s stomach dropped. Nope. No way. No. We are not going there. No. Freddy then added quickly, “From what I saw, anyway.”
Foxy glanced around at all of his friends, not missing Chica’s worried glance in his direction. She was thinking the same as him. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Chica declared, turning to look at Bonnie. “We don’t know what’s going on. For all we know they could have been roughhousing or gotten themselves into an accident.”
Foxy clung to that reasoning. It was true, after all; anything could have hurt them. It wasn’t necessarily… that.
“Besides, Kain didn’t look like she had any sort of trouble going on,” Chica added, glancing up at the ceiling with a slight frown.
“I didn’t notice anything about Salvage either,” Goldie put in helpfully, though an edge in his voice told Foxy that he wasn’t so sure anymore. “He was just really nervous and wary.”
They’re just a bunch of weirdoes, Foxy told himself desperately, but now he was thinking about his own interaction with Blanc. The way they zoned out, absently rubbing at their chest as if they were having pain… He didn’t even realize he was scowling as he said, “Blanc kept zoning out but that doesn’t mean anything.” He looked up at Bonnie again, feeling more like he was assuring himself than trying to talk sense into the rabbit. “They’re all weirdoes and they’re bonded by their mutual weirdness, but that doesn’t mean anything, Bonnie.”
He wanted so desperately to believe it. Somewhere in his mind, his right hand began hurting.
The hand that wasn’t even real.
Bonnie’s eyes narrowed at him. “I’m just saying,” he started, voice strained, “that I really think someone needs to keep an eye on those five. Something is wrong here and if it has anything to do with what I think it might-”
That was where Foxy couldn’t keep it in anymore.
“We have no right to suspect anything!” Foxy burst out, glaring angrily at Bonnie. We are not going to assume things here! “There was a bruise, a bandage, and a freak-out, whatever! It doesn’t mean anything, it could be any number of things! It’s none of our business.”
And that was true. It was none of their business. Whatever was going on they had no right to get involved with. They weren’t friends with these people. They weren’t even on good terms with these people.
At the same time, though, Foxy knew he was wrong. He knew it in the way his heart clenched, his stomach churned, in the memory of that white fox rubbing their chest, the thought of a hand-shaped bruise and bloody bandage…
He knew he was wrong. All of them knew he was wrong.
The only thing he was right about was that they didn’t know what was going on. They didn’t have a right to assume anything. If they did, they could easily end up pulling lives apart, derailing any plans those five had for their futures.
But if the assumption is correct…
He cut the thought off before it could finish.
Finally, Chica broke the tense, shocked silence. “I think,” she started slowly, picking her pen up again, “that both of you are right.”
Bonnie and Goldie’s expressions took on confusion and Freddy seemed conflicted, but Foxy understood. He knew exactly what Chica was about to say, and he was already mentally preparing himself for a response.
“How can both of them be right?” Goldie asked, sounding just as confused as he looked. “They’re saying the exact opposite of each other.”
Fragments, Goldie. Fragments.
“They’re both right in a way,” Chica explained. She pointed her pen towards Bonnie, directing all of their gazes to him. “Bonnie’s right, somethin’ fishy’s goin’ on, and if it puts any of them in danger then just standing by and watching it happen is just as bad as dealin’ the blow ourselves.”
It was a cold hard truth and it made Foxy sick. Damned if we do, damned if we don’t.
Chica’s pen shifted over towards Foxy himself, and suddenly all eyes were on him. “But Foxy’s also right that we can’t just assume we know what’s going on and get involved. If we do, we risk messing a lot of things up, for ourselves and Fischbach and his friends.”
The chicken dropped her pen on the rabbit’s desk and leveled them all with stern eyes. Foxy realized that she was being serious; whatever was maybe going on had her worried too. It made him feel even sicker. “We don’t know them, we’re outsiders looking in. We don’t know what’s going on, we don’t know so we shouldn’t get involved. The most we should do at this point is watch for signs.”
Signs. His left hand twitched towards his right wrist where the scars of his childhood still remained, sitting right above the faux-fur fastening. I refuse to believe this. Maybe one of them, possibly two of them- but three, four, or even all of them? No way.
Goldie’s earlier words flashed through his mind and he clung desperately to them. Still hope.
“Watch for signs?” he questioned, shaking his head slightly at them. “Haven’t we already established that when you get an idea your mind twists things to match it?”
Bonnie huffed, leveling him with a glare. Their chicken friend heaved an impatient sigh and she said, “Then don’t call ambiguous actions or conversations proof or signs.” Then she added a little softer, gentler, “Foxy, you should know this better than any of us.”
There is was, the elephant in the room. Out in the open, the thought he knew they all had been thinking all along. Foxy, who lost his hand and gained a few scars from the things his own biological parents did to him nearly fifteen years ago- just barely within his own memory range- should have been the most concerned about potential… abuse.If that’s what they’re even assuming.
But of course it was- he could see it in their eyes.
A few seconds of silence passed before he bit out, “Fine.”
“So wait,” Goldie suddenly spoke up, getting their attention. “Did we just agree to keep an eye on our least favourite people in the entire school?”
It seems that way, my friend, Foxy thought miserably, leaning back against the wall and subtly rubbing his wrist. His hand really ached. Maybe I should take it off for now.
“Pretty much,” Freddy confirmed Foxy’s thoughts before tacking on, “Just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean they deserve whatever’s happening.”
Foxy chose not to respond, simply watching his friends. He didn’t know how to respond.
“If anything at all,” Chica added warningly and Freddy nodded an agreement.
“If anything at all, yes.”
The silence fell again, becoming increasingly familiar to the fox, and then Goldie sighed and asked, “Keep an eye on our science partners, huh? What exactly are we watching for, anyway? Signs, but signs of what?”
Foxy frowned, staring down at his faux-fur prosthetic. It looked so real, honestly, that if one wasn’t looking closely they’d never notice where his smooth, soft fur became synthetic. I don’t want to think about it.
“Anything suspicious, I guess,” Bonnie answered hesitantly, voicing the words that hung silently in the air. The words all of them had been trying to ignore. “Things like… I dunno… depression, abuse, gang activity- you know, that kind of stuff.”
Not another word was said. Slowly, they all picked their pens back up and returned to their science packets. Foxy laid back down on his stomach, holding his own pen awkwardly as he stared at the words on the page.
His hand still ached, but there was nothing he could do about it right then.
Abuse. That was the word that really got him. Are there really people who don’t speak up about it? Even after all the seminars, the guest speakers, the counsellor’s class talks… are there really people who wouldn’t come forward with it?
It was hard to imagine. He couldn’t remember much about his biological parents but he could remember the pain and the misery, the horrifying fear and the desire to get away, get out, get help…
Would anyone actually put themselves through that for eighteen years straight?
He didn’t want to believe anyone would. His grip tightened on his pen. I need something else to think about.
Bonnie spoke up at that moment, tearing away the tense silence surrounding them. Foxy was grateful for the distraction.
“What’s the answer for number eight?”