Opossum-(mxm) (Rever series Eight)

Opossum Sixteen

(Racket took one of my throw pillows) 

While Grim got the carrot mess cleaned up in the kitchen, Ian sat down on the couch and tried to figure out how to calm down the little creature in his mind. 

It didn't seem to matter what he did, though. The poor guy just kept screaming and running around. 

"I'm sorry about him, he never shuts up unless you can scare him to the point of playing dead," Grim said as he wiped off a cabinet. 

He didn't want to scare him... the poor thing already seemed more than scared enough. 

"Does he have a favorite food? Or toy?" he asked. 

Grim stared at him with a frown, then shrugged one shoulder. 

"No clue, but he's never taken an interest in anything. It's always just screaming and playing dead when he gets too stressed or tired." 

Ian pursed his lips as he tried to think, but the screaming was just too hard to focus through. 

No wonder Grim has a short fuse sometimes. 

He couldn't imagine his cat yowling so much. 

Deciding to take things one step at a time, Ian leaned back in the reclining sofa and put his feet up, then closed his eyes. It took a bit of focus to get himself to relax through the noise, but he eventually managed to step into his mind. 

The little guy was still scurrying around and, of course, screaming, but it was clear that it was running low on steam now. 

It eventually stopped a short distance away, gasping for air, then slowly looked to the left, then let out a little scream, then looked to the right, followed by another tired scream. 

Then, finally, it flopped over and stuck its tongue out. 

He waited a few minutes after that to be sure that the opossum wasn't going to get back up, then quietly made his way over, slowly becoming visible as he moved as to not startle the little guy, who still had his eyes partially open. 

Once he was close enough, he sat down beside him, then slowly reached out a hand to gently pat his fuzzy back leg. He didn't want to touch near his face yet, because that was never somewhere you wanted to pet any animal if you didn't already know them very well. 

The little possum didn't react, but that was to be expected. It was still trying to catch its breath, so it wasn't playing dead all that well, but Ian gladly played along and didn't instigate anything. He simply sat there and softly ran a few fingers along its fur, not moving them too far and being consist in his tempo. 

It's not so bad, sweetheart. 

He didn't broadcast that thought, but as time went on, he noticed that the little guy was slowly getting his breathing back under control. 

There we go. 

As the possum began to come around again, Ian carefully tucked his face against his arm that was resting on his bent knee. His hand continued to move in the same rhythm until the opossum inched away from it, but Ian didn't move a muscle after his hand drifted to the floor of his mind. 

He could hear the possum snuffling around him, but it didn't dare come too close. It was hard to hold still for so long, but he was managing decently well. He just had to thinking about a few different things to keep his mind busy, while still paying attention to the sounds from the possum. 

What felt like hours passed, but in all honesty, he knew that there was progress being made. For one, there was barely any yelling for the majority of that time, and if there was, it was just little startled yips here and there. It probably wasn't used to seeing any people, too, so he couldn't fault it for being so stressed all the time. It seemed like a puppy with no socialization.