"The Great Food Heist" was, so far, less than successful. All that Scragglefur and his band of rats had been able to "secure" so far, had come from some fast food joint that Scragglefur didn't really care for. It was underwhelming, really. On top of the hostile vermin that didn't smell like humans, there were also other things running rampant today. It took great amounts of caution and care to sneak from point A to point B without drawing any unwanted attention, so things were going all too slow. It was better than being careless and reckless; he'd lose good rats that way. He cared more for his brethren than he did himself, so, as he sat in the back of this terrible burger joint, he considered heading back to the sewers and quitting while he was ahead.
They’d be set for months if he played it safe and went back now, but then they’d have to come out and be even more careful next time around. Sure, the streets were chaotic and filled with things that Scragglefur could only assume were fighting, but rats are scavengers. They excel at scavenging and what better time to scavenge then when there is little risk of being hit with a broom, or getting a tail stuck in a rat trap, or consuming rat poison? Of course, they’d have to be quick and quiet to avoid being shot at or trampled. It was a very hard decision, safety long-term for risk now, or risk later for safety now.
In the end, it was his brethren that made the decision for him. They squeaked in anticipation, wondering where it was they would head next. Fried chicken. That’s what Scragglefur decided on. They would head to the place that fried chicken. He didn’t know the name, mostly because he couldn’t read, but he did know where it was, which was actually just across the street. Sneakily, they ran to the restaurant, trying their best to avoid being seen. Scragglefur himself had to try extra hard to conceal his large-for-a-rat-small-for-a-person stature, but he thought he managed to do it. Of course, that was mostly his pride talking. It was actually rather easy to spot him if you were looking anywhere in his general direction, but he wasn’t intimidating enough to warrant any sort of aggressive response. Maybe an investigative response, but who knows? Scragglefur didn’t care, he had one goal at present: Gather food for his people, er, rats.
Panic sure was a great thing. People fled from buildings and left them wide open to Scragglefur and his hoard of rats. This was no exception, but then again, maybe it was just a slow day and someone decided to leave early. Whatever the case was, Scragglefur had a grand time digging through the back of the restaurant, even shoving a few pieces of fried chicken into his mouth. It’d be embarrassing if someone walked in on this, but he didn’t think that far ahead. Between the terrible burgers and the delicious fried chicken, the horde of rats couldn’t carry much more. So he gave the order and told them to return their loot to their sanctuary. As he squeaked this through a full mouth, he decided he’d stay and keep eating fried chicken until they got back.