Fluffbutt Returns! [shuddup the title is awesome]

It had been a while since he last set foot into the paticular city and he stared at it from a distance, thoughtfull chewing on a few peanuts as he leaned over the front of his bike, fluffy tail swishing behind him, slow and lazily. He'd left in a hurry, without goodbyes and without second glances. Had he been threatened? had he felt trapped? was it simple wanderlust?

He didn't know, but he had returned again, to the city of all his troubles.

He had to be masochistic to come back here.

The racoon put on his goggles and revved the engine of his bike, giving a loud whoop as the machine leaped forward with a loud snarl, roaring towards the city, racing through the streets at high speed, towards the old motel he used to stay at.

Although this city may be the start to many people's journeys, it doesn't exactly mean it's a good place to be. The city was known to be corrupt in the police department, and murders are considered the norm. Why, no wonder 'heroes' (and that word is used very lightly) tend to blow things up around the place. It's a nightmare of a city, really, yet many are attracted to it. Why? 'Is it, perhaps, simply instinct to be drawn towards chaos and destruction...?'

A rabbit sat outside a cafe in the main centre, a hot mug of coffee in his gloves hands. The rabbit was an odd fellow, as the main thing people tended to catch onto was the strange fur pattern. The left side of his face, orange. The right side? White. Most peculiar, but it was natural. The second thing many noticed was the rabbit's clothing. It was similar to a sheriff, you see. Brown overcoat, brown boots and a stetson hat upon his head, flattening his ears aside his head - the 'white' ear was notably pierced all the way down.

'...Or are we all just simple fools who will cause the destruction of this decaying world?'

He took a sip of the coffee, reading the morning newspaper in his other gloves hand.