The Stray

2-27: A Lesson for the Littlun

"Goodness! I expected you to go get a sandwich, not a beating!"

"Stuff kinda happened..." The wolf muttered sheepishly.

Miss Larue took one look at Timothy and V and sent them both off to go shower, though not until she'd fussed over their respective scrapes and got the bullet points of where they'd come from. She'd seen the smoke in the distance, but had hoped they weren't involved. Ha, that'd be the day.

By the time Timothy staggered back downstairs, dinner was ready and the captain had returned. Having called her didn't spare the tired pair a full report on their little adventure, an' it wouldn't get 'em out of having to write a proper one, neither. V shot him a pleading look.

"I'll, uh, copy out a page from my witch journal." The wolf mumbled, to her obvious relief. He'd just hafta keep his real thoughts on the day (and his little breakdown) on another page, that's all. Oversight and accountability sucked!

"If it hadn't been for the little brushfire you two started, I wouldn't need it so fast." The captain said pointedly. The wolf squirmed a little under her gaze.

"I already said, we were surrounded." Unlike Timothy, V looked grumpy, not nervous. "I was tryna keep us from getting dogpiled—"

"Relax, I get it. A gang of hostile slimeoids is a nightmare scenario. Something or someone was gonna get broke. Next time consider a Sandstorm Wall for a safer anti-slime spell. Still, given how bad it could have gone, and that you kept the damage contained, I'm inclined to say you did alright. That said..." She took a long drink of coffee. "V already told you, but Timothy? If it can talk, I expect you to use the least possible force in combat."

"Well, I know that now." Timothy grumbled.

"Just don't you forget it." She shook her head. "Given slimes don't pass out, feel pain, die, and can't easily be restrained, you two did okay. I won't tolerate excessive force."

The captain really took this seriously. Considering Strenel didn't really do police, he'd have to look into what the actual rules were for them at some point. But for now, "Noted."

"S-so you're not hurt anymore?" Meri cut in with a timidness he hadn't expected. The wolf turned his attention to the little dragoness, who'd been picking at her dinner while they'd talked.

"Nah. V wiped away the burn pretty easy. I'm madder 'bout my dress." Timothy sulked. "It's all burned."

"What, you don't know a patching spell?" V asked incredulously.

The wolf blew some loose hair out of his eyes. "'Course I know some, but it'll show. Plus there's the burns..." He thought back to his old dress, which was more patches than original cloth by the time it was destroyed, and mostly held together by magic and vines. "And I ain't got materials t' use neither. It ain't a big deal, really, but..." it really stuck in his craw.

Mat gave him a friendly smile. "I'm pretty good with a needle, Timothy, and I've got plenty of cloth. I can show you a few tricks to clean up your dress."

Timothy's mood brightened some. "Really? Thanks!" ...Though, it was kind of a shame to be invited to Mat's room just to sew. Ah, well.

"It's no problem."

Timothy hoped that was enough to derail Meri, but, well... "D-do you two need any help in town?" She asked, setting her jaw. Larue frowned and set down her fork, and Captain Ashborne sat up. Well, frass...

"Uhh...." Timothy was caught at a loss, this time. Luckily, her elders had first dibs on this'un.

"You kiddin'?" Maisie said flatly.