Finnick lifted his head from the hard metal, and realized he had fallen asleep again. Living inside the back of his van had robbed him of his natural daylight and the sleep cycle that came with it. He was living off of stored, borrowed, and poorly-stolen means since his setup-man, the fox who made all the action work, had switched over to The Fuzz.
If he were even a scintilla more spiteful he could allow his frustration to well over his feelings for his old friend, but knowing Nick's newfound happiness lit up the big heart in the fennec's little body. He looked down; he had fallen asleep inside his elephant costume again.
Why did he keep it? He had other, more and better, infantile costumes. But what can a little lost child take from someone on his own? Everything had depended on his partner, but it was his idea to use the elephant costume he owned since--
--had he always had the elephant suit? He stretched with waking and recollection, and waddled among the dwindling of his unsold, un-pawned possessions. He'd need to get food, find some way to steal himself through another day, as he sprung up to the top of the bookstack that gave him vision over the driver's seat. Backing up out of the alley, and proceeding into the day, the thoughtlessness of driving allowed him the simple clarity to arrive at the answer.
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