The Deer and the Bear #27 done

Several weeks have passed since Kristofor found himself with the repointe egg, the eventful hatch and learning of the fawn's early staged blindness. He worries over those few weeks of the humans only telling him this to calm him down or what... but it turns out they were right.
He's sitting in the middle of his old kennel, a place he'd totally forgot about until his landlord did indeed catch him in the act of multiple animals on the property beyond the limit. She was cross. But...and he's thanking Light for her mercy on him, recommended to check in with his old place of residence to see if the pipes were fixed. He'd been gone over a year after all.
Turns out, they were fixed about a month after he'd left and had no forwarding address so the dusty metal den had stood empty for...ever really. The kennel never did seem to fill up on residences. But he did owe her an extra month's rent for the excessive creatures.
Was he homeless and back to living in a metal box? No. Turns out he could keep creatures at the kennel and still live at the shop, but anything beyond his initial six needed to live in the metal den.
Which was fine by him. Except for the extra money problem. He gets by month to month on what little comes in from the shop, but needs to get a bit extra to pay two months rent. So off to the quest boards he goes. With confident clipping strides behind him of Suffolk the repointe, wearing his muzzle but growing rapidly upwards. The fawn's head was nearing his shoulder as he stands plantigrade (flat foot), with little pointed nubs on his head.
Lets see... what was this one about babysitting?
1

A butler opens the door when he knocks, as the gates are open as if expecting visitors.
"I am here about the job for ...Fifi?" he inquires. Getting the typical glance down and up, he's a fox standing on his hind legs like a normal person wearing a vest and shorts, thank you very much.
"...Wait here." the butler leaves him standing on the doorstep. With enough give on the tether, the repointe is clipping back and forth on the path to examine the bushes that were on either side of the path. Blooming lovely pink roses. He knows roses more by smell then sight. Probably because his ex liked roses. She had expensive taste. And thankfully Suffolk is wearing a muzzle, he's at the age of putting everything in his mouth, like a young fox does. A few clicks of his tongue and the creature pauses, ears rotating back and forth, they were now upright like his.
When the person of the estate comes to the door...he has a hard time telling her apart from a sundried potato. Squat, wrinkled, holding a pair of glasses in a paw hand, the old dog squints at him, in a big fancy baby blue frilly nightmare of a dress.
"YOu're here to waTCH FIFI?" she asks him in a loud voice.
"Y-yes M'am!"
"GOOD! FOLLow Me." she shuffles off, barking for her helper.
3

What he could see was not an animal, that's a BIG, SPIKY, FURRY, thing. With a permanent frown on its pinched snout. Almost as wrinkled up as their lady mistress. If he felt any bravery with this task, it drained out through his feet. And their wrinkly lady mistress is speeding away at the speed of...however rich people travel.
Not a bus, that's for sure.
Theres so many smells to smell and its distracting the foxfawn repointe from the increasing smell of fear coming off Foofy tail. They're too young for having tail envy yet. His big nose, hidden by the muzzle, expands as the animal breathes in, smelling EVERYTHING. The ticklely smell in his nose makes the fawn sneeze a bit, shaking his head back and forth. Probably an effect of the pollen of fully bloomed rose gardens.
Kristofor isn't as affected by the strong floral perfumes of the rose garden surrounding the mansion's front that wafts through the air. He's too focused on the death machine inside that cage.
Who has woken up.
5

By now, Kristofor can see some extra details in his stupor of panic that he didnt' see initially on the picture provided. A garish pink and purple lace bow assortment on the head spikes, the shift of a chain that glints in the light as the bear gets up, and stretches. like nothing has changed at all. Turning her head this way and that, sniffing the air.
She doesn't smell Mother's heavy scent of flowers and perfume. Was...she not here? At least, not outside. It is naptime after all. A piglike snort comes from a massive lolling yawn, shaking themselves awake.
To the left of his line of sight is a large shed; perhaps for keeping the bear's food? She doesn't seem too awake yet, so he slowly moves sideways to reach the locker. The door creaks a bit when it opens and he freezes briefly. Its like breaking into the refrigerated smokehouse again. But instead of smoked meats, it has a variety of near frozen meats hanging from metal hooks all over the place. Labeled with what they were, and what not. Hum... what about this nice fat salmon. Bear like fish, right?
Keeping Suffolk off might be a task, as the fawn has the smell.
7

the thing about loud noises is, they echo incredibly well inside a metal cave. Or inside this human made metal box. So when the bear who has discovered him in her food stores roars GET OUT!!!! it echoes into his bones. The salmon's slippery scally body lands on the floor as he clamps both fishy hands over his ears, wailing in distress. The noise.. the noise! It takes about everything he can muster to drag the fish with him out of the locker with a push off the floor to fly backwards sort of onto the grass with the fishy prize. The phil is angry, charging the fence, only to be bounced off. What sort of fencing was this?
Not stealing! not...stealing. gift! He tries to tell her but the roar is making his head ache painfully. Hard to think, hard to see... like his world is inside the at box with corners on his vision.
Something snorts in his ear. The fox blinks the tunnel vision briefly to see the muzzled fawn looking at him, bits of his ear fur clinging to a damp muzzle. Fox okay? He's not responding.
Gift? GIFT?! She doesn't believe yipping animal. food is before it, and not before her.
9