[sock]

Trick made his usual rounds. He knew the good twolegs, the bad twolegs, the wrong places to step, the right places to step, you name it. He made a small leap, and weaved between a twoleg's legs as his collar clinked against the boots the tall thing wore. It leaned over to pat his head, and he got a bit of meat from the kind twoleg. He purred and gave it's paw a lick before turning to go to the next. His black and white tuxedo fur blended in well against the machinery, giving him no problem with maneuvering the rude twolegs. He sat down in a quaint corner to begin eating the food he'd racked up. It was a good amount, and he'd be willing to share... [OPEN]