UNDERGROUND CONTACT

[knowstheworld]

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JOHN CHILDERMASS
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sms, very important sms

[smugfox]

[action]

[knowstheworld]

[Childermass checks his phone when it vibrates, and does not recognize the number. He hardly ever gets text messages from anyone aside from Lucas, Davey, or Norrell himself, let alone from someone not in his list of contacts.

In the end he decides to open it anyway, for it's only a text message and it's not going to ruin his phone if he does. He peers at the image for a few minutes straight, trying to understand whether there is something to determine from the photograph itself. But it seems to be just a duck. An anonymous duck, and no further message sent to explain why he should be sent such a thing or to what purpose.

So Childermass puts his phone back in his pocket and carries about his business for the day.]

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[smugfox]

It's a duck pic. Doesn't do anything for you?

[Following Childermass isn't easy, but Reynard has never been one to avoid a challenge when it seems fun enough. He's not overt about it and he has his doubts that he can actually keep it up for long, but for now he can watch.]

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[knowstheworld]

[Alright, fine, he'll give in. He's busy, but he has enough time to send a quick reply back. If he knew that Reynard was following him, though, he'd be more sneaky about where he went. Use the shadows to try and conceal himself. As it is, he's just bustled around on the streets of London, being pestered by anonymous text messages when there's work to be doing.]

Can't speak for your own tastes but I'm not usually one for waterfowl, personally.

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[smugfox]

I have to ask. What kind of fowl does it for you?

[Seems like a justified question, given everything. Reynard has no intention of giving away that he's trailing Childermass. Texting him is just another way of toying with him, but mostly Childermass intrigues him and that means that knowing what he got up to was something worthwhile to know. Reynard knows better than not to trust his instincts where this is concerned.]

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[knowstheworld]

Can't say for certain. A pretty bird? A handsome cock? Wouldn't you like to know.

[Childermass' day is busy indeed, delivering Norrell's letters for him to various Night Council members, popping by a seller to pick up a rare book for the other man. Doing some business of his own for that matter, stopping into an herbalist's to collect a few odds and end's he's in need of replenishing. Nowhere he goes is particularly telling. But if he's being tailed, he's certainly keeping the other on their toes.]