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Tobias doesn't like Metropolis all that much, but it's not as bad as it could be. After all, it's not really a... metropolis. Not a bustling one. Sure there are tons of refugees, but that's just a drop in the bucket of what the city is designed to handle.

He's spent the past few days watching Rachel work out. She runs hard, practices gymnastics, and generally pushes herself. He's not surprised by the pushing, but it's new to see her working out her human body. Not that he disagrees with her reasoning, of course.

And it's been nice just to be near her again. He feels like the three years without her were a bad dream.

He's been out hunting, and now he's gliding back to their most recent crash space.

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The hawk is not intimidated. Instead he simply perches nearby and watches, wondering if this is one of the others. Rachel hadn't mentioned knowing of anyone else being here though.

"Holy-- oh shit--" babbles Tom's intended mark, before bolting into his apartment to call someone. Does animal control deal with giant rat-men?

Tom snaps his jaws again at the hawk - a smaller effort, for a dumb beast wouldn't attack him now. His sides heave and his clawed fingers clench and unclench as he looks around.

He should get going soon. If only he'd thought to find a bolthole. Too much running through the streets naked draws attention....

He certainly doesn't look familiar. And he's not morphing back with clothes. That suggests that whatever he is, he's not an Animorph.

Tobias continues to stare in a must unhawklike manner.

He can't go into rat with a hawk here...and of course the feckin' thing is still here....

Rats can't glare or swear, so Tom has to settle for another threat-squeak, a few steps closer to Tobias's perch and a shooing gesture.

The hawk's head tilts in a way that might almost be derisive. He doesn't move.

The only birds Tom knows are sparrows and pigeons. For all he knows this is normal hawk behavior. He's tempted to search for a plastic can or something to throw, but a professional thief tries to leave the scene of the crime as soon as possible.

Then it hits him: he has a form where he's perfectly disguised, from the human probably peeping through his blinds onto the street (not that Tom can see, with a rat's poor vision) and safe from the hawk.

Tom bolts down the alleyway in half-man.

Now that's unexpected. Tobias has never seen anyone able to move around mid-morph. He spreads his wings and launches himself into the air to follow.

Tom shifts his eyes to human, at least, so he can see. He pelts across the street (screaming humans) through another alleyway, down another street and then another, and finally finds just the right fire escape to leap up onto.

Home sweet home - as long as he can make sure he isn't followed.

No one on the ground so far....

But perched on a fire escape across the street is a hawk.

Maybe it's the same one. Most people don't know how to tell the difference.

The hawk gets stare from human eyes (with cornflower blue irises) set in a giant rat's face.

Apparently there are more hawks in this feckin' city than he thought. He'll have to be more careful about where he goes into rat.

Tom turns to climb up the fire escape, stopping a few windows up.

Is that bird still there?

Yep. And still staring right at him.

Tom begins to turn back to the window.

...You know, Tom has met dragonskins and catskins, among other crazy berks at the farm.

The rat-man turns back and gives the bird a short wave.

The bird in question bobs its head right back.

Tom blinks a few times.

His muzzle retracts. His face still furred, his mouth is human enough to ask, "You talk?"

<Yes.>

Tobias' voice echoes oddly in Tom's mind. It's definitely not audible.

Tom visibly recoils at the voice, ears flattening. Eerie.

"Wouldn't sup on rats in this burg, mate. Tricky," he snaps his teeth together for emphasis, "business."

Tom could have died today if his body had been just a fraction slower. He's still pissed off about that.

<You should know better than to sit out in the open,> Tobias points out. It's one of the reasons you listen to the animal part of your brain while you're morphed: it knows how to stay alive.

"Aw, feck off!" Tom snaps. "I had shit to do."

Saying that is better than admitting Tobias is right.

<You must be new at this,> Tobias eventually decides. <Though the half-morph thing is new to me.>

"New at-- arsehole, I been a 'skin since I was a nipper!"

<'Skin'?>

"The feck d'you think all this is?" Tom gestures to himself with a claw-fingered hand.

Tom sends another glance down the street to see if anyone's following. He knows what human curiosity is like.

"I got an escape to make, so sod off."

He turns back to the window. It's partly open - Wendell knows to leave it so - and the half-man opens it further.

Tobias shrugs. It's not at all the movement of a hawk.

Whatever.

A bit of a glance at the shrug, but being human if/when policemen come asking about a giant rat-thing is more important to him than inquiring about it.

The window is closed and blinds drawn before Tom becomes fully human.

"This place is full of weird feckin' shit," he announces to the apartment's other occupant.

"That means get over here, Wen."

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