"Silvera!"
"Eggs?" Came the chirp as the Sergal poked her long snout from underneath a blanket where she had been napping, curled up in the corner of the room. Her ears had perked up giving the blanket some shape as it slid back down against her mane. Her long tongue licked her snout adorned with red fur above and white underbelly. She sniffed excitedly at the thought of her favorite food making her features seem like a ravenous, hungry shark with fur.
Her companion, a Badger in a knit grey sweater was now picking off bits of eggshell from the lumpy and deflated couch they shared as part of the living room space in the small apartment. He was rather large for a badger. Being the size of a hobbit, if said hobbit was fully grown, and possessed the ability to stand on his own hind legs without support, something desired by other feral creatures. His accent and species hinted of his origin being somewhere from a country within the reaches of Europe.
"What have I said before? No eggs on the couch. There's so many flakes all over the bloody thing now!" He grumbled fighting the couch cushion for a small flake that had imbedded itself into the knitting. It bounced to and fro at his slowly acclimating and angry mood, seemingly teasing him to try for him to successfully retrieve it.
The Sergal chuckled, her laughter coming off like a hiss, actually, more of a series of S's rolling over each other in a series of three. She shrugged off the blanket and crawled over to the Badger nosing his side with a friendly nudge. She then shook herself out and bristled her mane that came down halfway on her back, telling the keen eye that she was mature for a sergal but also very young at that in terms of being an elder. "Badger does not like eggs?" She asked, crooning into his ear and leaning into him to remind him of her adoration of his company. "Silvera loves eggs."
The Sergal flicked his ear with a tongue and he winced with a guttural sound that nearly made him drop all the egg chips he had carefully tried to clean up. He shuffled away from her and into the open kitchen. With some effort he pulled open the cupboard under the sink that had the trash can and dumped them inside, clapping his paws to remove any straggling egg pieces.
Meanwhile, Silvera was giggling to herself from the Badger's reaction. She stretched herself out, flicking her tail behind her and leapt onto the couch, taking one half of it as she sat, perched like a cat. She waited for the Badger to return knowing very well about this time he would sit down for his daily session of gaming. She enjoyed watching him play, unable to play herself without much knowledge how to even use a controller.
The Badger returned and hopped onto the other side of the couch reaching over to his side and placing his small phone on the table there and then picking up the wireless controller for his game system. The Television and game system sprung to life with two separate beeps once his paws had begun to fumble with the controllers buttons.
Silvera watched as he played but she noticed he was distracted. He wasn't playing like he normally would where he would comment and make remarks to what she said. She usually waited for him to begin but today he didn't begin at all. She watched the Game Over screen flash more times than normal and immediately knew something was wrong but she said nothing. After some time, she noticed he'd been sitting and looking at the Game Over screen for a while now. The No option highlighted on screen, asking if we wanted to continue.
He sighed and tossed the controller on the table and laid himself out on the couch, putting his head on the arm rest. He lazily stared at the screen and said nothing. Silvera looked from the Badger, to the screen, then back to the Badger again. She turned over to him and laid down gently on him, her head draping over her chest as her slender arms wrapped themselves around his shape.
"What is wrong, Bruin?" She asked, an ear perked to hear what he would have to say but her eyes cast down on the couch unsure of how else to help besides offering an embrace.
"You never call me by my name." He muttered back, his paw stroking her mane, making the Sergal vibrate a bit with happiness at her friend's touch and his response. She had feared that he might have been mad for the egg shells earlier but it reassured her a bit that it was something different.
"Badger does not seem happy to Silvera. Why is Badger not happy?" She felt his paw pause a moment against her mane and she sank a bit more against him in response. "Badger does not have to tell. Silvera will understand."
"I'm just, I'm feeling a bit lost." He began, confiding in his friend who now listened in perfect silence. "I've been trying to write but sometimes I wear myself down and other times I don't want to force myself. If I set a schedule it seems like I would just hate it and lose interest because it's forced and not for fun. I just don't know. Sometimes I think my work is horrible and other times I think it's amazing. When I do think it's amazing, I wait and wait for comments or someone to notice it. Then I'm torn between the idea of being popular and people wanting and expecting more or the idea of not being so popular, doing my own thing but never being noticed. I just don't seem to feel happy in either position. You know?"
The Sergal considered this a moment and then shook her head, gently rubbing against him. "Silvera does not. She does not write like the Badger likes to."
Bruin let out a quick and small laugh. He took comfort in the words and enjoyed the way she had been upfront with it like always. "Yeah." He replied, staring up at the ceiling and not focusing on it very much at all. "I understand."
Silvera said nothing. She was breathing lightly, her eyes closed and ears lazily folded against her head. Her gentle snoring told him she had already decided to take a nap on him as she was accustomed to whenever they went to bed at night. He reached behind himself, over the armrest, and grabbed the controller pressing a few buttons to turn the television and game system off. Once that was done, he heard his phone chime with a text as it lit up. He hesitated at wanting to reply but instead let the phone's screen dim again. He adjusted himself under Silvera and then closed his eyes to nap with her.
He had decided that whichever way he did his writing, it wouldn't matter as long as it was something he enjoyed doing at his own pace.
