(no subject)

[perform_admirably]

Spock isn't certain what to do with it.

The creature is small, thick-furred and quadropedal, with two curling horns on its head and extremely long, filament-like whiskers. From what he has been able to tell, it's a desert-dwelling creature. A scavenger. It may have occupied a niche in its homeworld like jackals did on the Earth of his own universe.

In any event, it doesn't belong in the city, skulking around in garbage cans for scraps, risking being made sick or getting injured on a street, or any number of other unnatural fates. Spock was careful with the use of 'unnatural,' but it certainly seemed to fit in this case. For a raccoon to live in a city was no longer unnatural. They had evolved to make city-dwelling ideal for many populations. This creature had no such advantages yet.

He still had not figured out what he planned to do with it once he got close enough to it, which he has already berated himself about mentally -- twice. But it seems better to act, than to not act at all, out of indecision. He never was as slow to move on such things as his Vulcan brethren. It is not ethical to make a pet of a wild creature, but neither is it to allow it to continue suffering unnecessarily.

Approaching from the mouth of the alley, he gets fairly near; near enough to hold out the long pole with the collar attached. If he could get it over the animal's head, he could cinch it, and carefully move the animal into a breathable bag he'd brought to contain it, until it could be moved.

But it's too wiley for him, and when the barest brush of the collar comes, it takes off -- slow but erratic -- toward the other end of the alley with Spock in pursuit.

The state of it is plain from the glimpse he'd caught, though. Despite the thick, matter fur, its ribs are obvious. It hasn't eaten properly. It's filthy.

Comments

[perform_admirably]

"I mean in the broadest sense," Spock clarifies, without argument in his voice. There was no reason to think that he'd been using the term the way he had. "It doesn't belong in this environment. It isn't evolved for urban populations. And unless Darrow is hiding a desert biome around one of its corners, it's unlikely to be a native animal in the general area, either. My premise might be incorrect, of course. I was only following the evidence to what I believe to be a logical conclusion."

Spock spared a glance for the frightened animal again, before stepping out of the way, so that the other man could have a better look if he chose to take it. He was lingering too long to be completely disinterested.

"I have a personal interest in an animal like this one. My name is Spock."

[beat_death]

"No reason to think you didn't," Owen replies, because he'd chosen his words carefully, there. Alien, of course, could just mean alien to Darrow-- like so many of them, really-- but now he's almost certain they're talking about it in another way.

At least he hasn't come all the way out here for someone's lost cat because one of Tosh's censors has gone bad.

He's about to start in on how Darrow doesn't really follow any logical laws when it comes to what does and doesn't find itself there when the other man introduces himself.

"...Spock?" he asks, wondering if he's hearing things.

[perform_admirably]

"Correct," Spock says to the other man, his dark brows lifting lightly. There are a variety of reasons that someone might ask for him to repeat his name, although in Darrow it isn't typically because they find it unusual. Darrow is at least relieving in that respect -- 'usual' is a broad category in Darrow.

"Spock, son of Sarek, of Vulcan. Like the creature wedged behind this garbage receptacle, I am not a native."

[beat_death]

Christ, now he's meeting characters from television shows. Not that Owen hasn't forgotten a long time ago, seeing himself on a screen, those film reels labeled Torchwood out for anyone to see, but it hasn't stopped being weird. Owen doesn't think it's likely to ever become commonplace for him.

"I suspected as much," he replies, "So that personal interest... is it some sort of camaraderie over being dislocated or something else?"

[perform_admirably]

Spock tried, very hard, to keep his tongue in his mouth when the other man suggested that hee might feel some particular (illogical) camaraderie over the small animal, simply because it, also, was alien to the climate of Darrow. 'Extraterrestrial' meant something different, in Darrow. For as far as Spock was concerned, they were all extra compared to Darrow. Unsuited to the climate was a better comparison.

And still, largely, a pointless one.

But to feel the need to complain about having that pointed out was just as pointless.

"It was something. I'm hesitant to put a name on it. For a variety of personal reasons. Nevertheless, before I arrived, I was employed doing work that involved the description and study of newly encountered life-forms."