Leape

In which Penn gets spooked by a compsagnathus

6

Penn woke up to the most chaotic sight he had ever seen. A large, sandy-colored dog— a labrador retriever, if he knew his dog breeds— was pouncing around the room, a semi-twisted sheet around its feet, barking excitedly, jumping up and down like a trapped rabbit. It was fleeing from something Penn hoped he never had to see again: an underwear-draped raptor that looked harmless, and yet was nipping at the dog's heels as if the two were playing. To add to that, there was a cacophony of dinosaur noises coming in through an open door, mixed with the burning smell of eggs.

Running a hand through his dark hair, Penn propped himself up on his elbows just as the lab decided to leap onto his bed, fleeing the mostly-blinded raptor who scampered around the room in a frenzy.

That's one way to start the morning... Penn thought, stifling a yawn and looking around the room. The lab's slobber consistently dropped onto the comforter of the bed, coming at regular intervals. The brownish-green raptor had finally shaken the pair of firetruck red underwear off its head, scraping its claws against the floor, giving its eye a good lick, like a lizard, before scuttling under the bed to haunt Penn's dreams. He shuddered, pushing the idea out of his brain, moving his gaze away from beneath the bottom bunk of the room.

The lab turned its attention to Penn. Panting, the dog's drool got all over the bed covers, tail wagging as his entire backside shook. A smile stretched over Penn's face, and he got the impression he was grinning like an idiot. I never liked dogs... but this one... his thoughts trailed off, as the familiar voice of the Narrator whispered in his mind something about character development.

The door nearly flew off its hinges as it was opened, and a safari-looking guy fast-walked in. He wore clothes similar to Lethia's—that looked quite like a boy scout uniform— but they were camouflage. He hadn't noticed Penn in his hurry, and as his leathery boots thumped against the ground, he had an air of absent-mindedness about him. The man dug through a trunk that Penn hadn't noticed the night before, muttering stuff under his breath all the while.

He turned around and was about to walk out of the room before his eyes widened and he saw Penn. He nearly dropped what he was holding— some sort of a large metal band— and gave a surprised shout.

"Who are you!?" he yelped, grabbing hold of the ring and holding it close to his chest. By now Penn could see his facial features clearly. His reddish-brown hair was neatly trimmed, the remnants of a beard on his face. He had large eyes— not unlike Maizie's— that were green-brown, and he carried himself almost like a cat, slinking around, yet incredibly hyperactive.

"Um," said Penn, unsure how to respond. What am I supposed to say, I decided to live in your basement? "Hi?"

"Maizie never mentioned there were two of you! Welcome!" He spread his arms wide as if showing off the bunk room. "I'm Philip Callaham! Maizie's..." he paused, counting on his fingers. "Cousin!"

Penn gave him an odd look. Philip gave a sheepish smile. "Technically we're third cousins— my great-great-grandma is the same as hers—and I never get to introduce us—me? us? her? who knows— to anyone, like, ever, so it took a sec to figure it out."

Penn nodded slowly, considering it. That makes sense... I think. He was yanked out of his thoughts by the other boy's chatter. "... I have a lot of chores and stuff I gotta do today, but you're welcome to come with me if you want, although Belinda might not be too happy... but she's old and can barely walk anyways, so we should be good to go and her hearing's not great. Whattaya say? Wanna come?" A mischievous grin had spread across Phillip's face. Penn had to think about it.

Am I even up for socializing right now? The sound of the Narrator's voice caught him off guard, but he swiftly ignored the snark of it. No, I think I am— besides, I don't like you, so why would I follow the plot? A dramatic gasp came from the Narrator, and he couldn't help but smile, which acted as a catalyst for Philip's.