Quack

[threateningflour]

Who: Coulson and anyone
What: Duck
Where: Highcrest
When: 3/16
Warnings: ridiculous ahead

[Along a dirt road in Highcrest this fine morning, one agent is continuing his daily stroll around Mallow Hallow. There is one difference today, a brood of ducklings are waddling after him.

As he crosses the road, the ducklings honk and try to rush across to follow him, prompting a frown on Coulson's face, so he turns back around, ushering them back to the side of the road and crouches down before them sternly]

Look both ways before crossing.

[No, he hasn't grown a soft spot for them. Why do you ask?]

Comments

[threateningflour]

I get that a lot.

I'm Phil Coulson.

[methemystery]

Sissel. I'm sort of a detective myself. But the suit doesn't fit.

[threateningflour]

I know a good tailor.

[he has to admit a cat in a suit would be awesome]

[methemystery]

I think that'd clash when the little lady paints my claws.

[threateningflour]

Not that badly. Depending on the color.

[methemystery]

Hard to tell. I don't see colors the way you do.

[Except when he's dead? It's kind of confusing.]

[threateningflour]

[nods] Makes sense. Where are you from?

[methemystery]

I'm from the park.

[...he's a cat.]