The Stray

2-1: In The Harsh Light of Day (Book 2 Start!)

Sunday, October 3rd

Timothy'd half-expected to wake up with a knife to his throat, or at least a pitchfork. It wouldn't be the first time. But for all Timothy's worry, his night's sleep at the Ashborne house— and morning's sleep, because frass was he exhausted— went by completely peaceful. He came to sometime in the early afternoon, groggy but unharmed (well, no more harmed than he already was.)

Timothy's conjured spirit heckled him, chirping and humming in spidery laughter. "Aw, you can it." He said crossly. "It ain't paranoia when people actually want ya dead." The sentry just rolled all six of its inky eyes.

It wouldn't have been a hard kill at the moment. No amount of healing magic could stop him from being a tangled knot of aches and pains this morning. It took a ton of effort and a lot of groaning to drag his carcass outta bed. Owww...

He was just lucky he had a stick to lean on. And lucky that waking up far from home wasn't new to him. Y'couldn't be too picky sometimes in the Deepshadow, 'specially if you had places to be. Sometimes camp for the night was, say, tying yourself to a sturdy branch and snoozing til morning, or burying yourself in thornbushes, or finding a cave someone else was hibernating in an' being real, real quiet. Even so, it took him a moment to put together why it was so damn bright.

"Ain't seen you in years." He grumbled, shaking his head at the blazing sun. Still, it was a warmer day, he was indoors, and he could smell frying eggs and sizzling meat. Worth it. He tossed on a pink and black baseball cap V'd left him last night to cover the brand— no sense in getting seen through a window.

Timothy hobbled downstairs to find about half of the Ashbornes hanging out in the kitchen, and all varying degrees of haggard. Meri sat up on her chair, head on her knees and snoozing. Mat and Maisie were nowhere to be seen, nor was the captain. Valencia was making coffee, and from the rings under her eyes, she needed it. And miss Larue was missing her blonde curls, leaving a short buzz of thin brown hair in its place. Oh, right, rhinos didn't grow much hair, huh...?

He couldn't care less at all, though, when said rhino was frying up tons of eggs and shamm in two pans. And when she gave him such a warm smile and a heaping plate. "Morning, dear. Don't forget your medicine." Oh, right. Timothy sheepishly took two capfuls before digging in. Meri lifted her head to smile tiredly at him, and pushed a carton of milk towards him with her tail.

"And that was 'Wind on the Windows' by Jerry Teasdale, here on ETJS Coffee Break, 98.5."

It was pure instinct. Timothy leapt up, his chair skidding back into the counter, and he threw his casting hand up, a miasma of icy shadow bubbling around it. "Show yourself!"

V bopped his arm down as she went to sit. "Easy, killer. You never heard a radio before?" The dragoness pointed at a little trinket box on its own little shelf. He'd seen it, sure, but he didn't make the connection until just then. Aw, frass. He chuckled sheepishly as the Ashbornes gave him looks between stifled laughter (V) sympathy (Larue) and honest confusion (Meri.)

"Uh... no?" The wolf sheepishly shook away his spell, and scurried to get his chair. "My gran mighta had one stashed somewhere, but..." Miss Larue hid a fit of giggles behind her hands, and that tipped Timothy over the line into blushing.

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Timothy was beat to hell and exhausted, but he wasn't no freeloader. He could scrub a dish just fine, so he joined V over her and her mama's protests. He needed a stepladder to reach the kitchen sink. Giants, all of 'em. He figured they kept these around mostly for Meri and Maisie. He'd never been in a large or xl species' house before, and it sure was somethin'.