WhiteSquaw

"Shit," she stammered through chattering teeth.  "Where the hell is Owl?"             Foxx waited.  Wringing her fingers together tightly and hunching her shoulders, she turned her back to the lower city winds.  The stone bench she had made her perch for the past 45 minutes wasn't the warmest place to kill time, but she had suffered worse.  She tapped the nose of her mask, bored, all the time wondering what was taking Owl so long. Foxx always wore her mask in public; a red fox mask with vacant yellow eyes.  She pulled her lightwei