"I'm gonna have to disagree with you there." Bran chuckled, raising one dark eyebrow. "It's not a good idea to show fear in front of the rabbit. But the bear sees it as a lesser form of respect. Still, though..." The dark-haired male finally dug into the inventory he was supposed to be doing, tearing his eyes from his current companion. "Respect will get you a long way. With the band, at least. I don't know about the fox. I'm not supposed to deal with him, but...maybe you can find out more from the others. If they're willing to talk to you at all."

Foxy was the outlier, it seemed. Every member of the staff believed him to be dangerous and very little was known about him. Though clearly Golden Freddy was also a mysterious outlier, Foxy was a more immediate problem. He wouldn't lay a hand on a woman, but that didn't necessarily mean he wouldn't help the others get into the office...or prevent them from doing the deed themselves.

"That's a good question..." The mechanic briefly glanced over to meet her eyes before turning back to the computer monitor. "I guess they just don't trust night guards at all anymore. I wouldn't either if I was abused." He scratched his chin, pondering those questions. "Just grab a bunch of Monsters somewhere. Those are great! But don't drink more than three at a time. They can legitimately give you heart palpitations." Bran pulled a face. "I, uh...I would know. From experience. Don't do that. As for the game, I really don't know much about it. I don't know the rules. All the owner mentioned to me in passing was that they go on the offensive at night and the guard is forbidden from leaving the office. He did say that the guards get phone calls that further explain the game with each passing night. Training tapes or something like that."

Bran opened his mouth to speak further, hesitated, and then cleared his throat. "...About the fox..." He winced. "I know he's in bad shape. And it bothers me. Especially knowing that there's a person's consciousness in that metal shell. But I can't work on him...in the pizzeria, that is." He drummed his fingers against the desk, whistling in an innocent fashion and rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "I mean, if there were no cameras around to catch me going anywhere near the fox...it wouldn't be too difficult to give him a proper once-over and figure out exactly what repairs he needs, what I'll need to conduct those repairs, and how much it's going to cost..."

A mischievous smirk stretched across his face. "You already said he probably won't hurt you because of his code of conduct, right? It shouldn't be all that difficult to talk to him then. Maybe convince him that getting fixed up won't be so bad. He won't be in pain anymore and maybe, just maybe, if he's in good working order...the management might let him perform again."

That would be a dream come true for that old fox. It had to be depressing, day in and day out sitting in that dark musty Cove listening to the rest of his family having fun with the children...