Behind the counter, Grubbage paused, one paw resting atop a messy pile of pawn slips. He didn’t look up, didn’t say a word, just let the corner of his mouth twitch upward into a crooked smirk.
“Heh...Clown show, he says...”
He gave the faintest snort, then resumed his performance of trying to...
Grubbage’s good eye drifted toward the countertop, just in time to catch the fox’s claw finish its little flourish.
His whiskers twitched.
It wasn’t the first time he’d seen that mark carved somewhere it didn’t belong, and it never meant anything good for the surface it was carved into. But...