The Unwanted Wendigo [ManxMan]

Chapter Nine: Wendy is Hungry

[AN: Warning! This chapter contains the somewhat graphic aftermath of one of Wendy's hunts as well as a somewhat gruesome hunt.]

~Chapter Nine: Wendy is Hungry~

Though I did not sleep, I did spend the night in my new temporary bed in my new temporary bedroom because even though the room itself is far bigger than the bedroom I had in the palace, there is less to do in this guest room, as the only things in it are a desk with a swivel chair, a dresser next to the window on the wall opposite the door, and a bedside table with a lamp. If I had any idea where the library is, I would have spent the night in there, but I suspect that, if there is a library in this house - which is admittedly more of a old-looking mansion, even if it lacks the old-timey feel with how modern the decor is - it is likely off-limits to guests since it was not pointed out to me or part of a study, which means it would not just be off-limits but very off-limits.

Not that that'd normally stop me, but I can behave for one night, at least.

"Wendy, could you help me with this?"

I am not sure if she was waiting for me or if my timing is just good, but when I eventually enter the kitchen - it is probably almost noon at this point - it is to find Valentin's wife, Giselle, standing on her tiptoes on a wobbling swivel chair while trying to put a bag of flour away in one of the higher cabinets. Since the dark-skinned Mer is barely over five feet tall, her fingers are just brushing the top shelf she is trying to reach while the bag of flour teeters dangerously over the edge, threatening to spill its contents on her face.

My eyes widen slightly in alarm - couldn't she have just asked her husband? He's literally in the dining room - before I lunge over to her side in time to catch the flour bag as it falls from her outstretched fingers. Sliding it further onto the shelf with one hand, I grab the back of the wobbling chair with my other hand to stop it from sliding out from under her accidentally.

"Gracias," the little, Cuban Mer says in lightly-accented Spanish, smiling while she climbs down from the chair with ease. I am not even sure she needs me to hold it as she gets down, as her balance seems pretty good for a literal fish-person out of water, but I do not let go, just in case. Valentin is an interesting Mer, and I do not want to be responsible for his wife's injury, especially since she seems pretty interesting herself.

After all, upon arriving last night, much to the surprise of Giselle since it was apparently a last minute request by Felix, rather than argue, complain, or ask me who I am, the first question that came up was, "Do you want red, grey, or Disney princesses?"

Of course, I chose Disney princesses, even though I had no idea what she was referring to - bedsheets, as it turned out, and I regret nothing - and I can appreciate that she did not question my choice, even though her husband looked a bit unsure. It did not automatically earn her my respect, as I am not that easy, but it did not hurt, and with how she never once batted an eye upon hearing from her husband over dinner about my special diet, I get the feeling she might be fun. With how independent she seems, though, I have to wonder how things work between her and Valentin, who also seems very headstrong.

Not that it's any of my business, anyway; I'm not going to be the nosy wendigo guest.

"Would you like some help?" I offer hesitantly, not quite sure what she is doing. As nobles, I had expected them to have servants or helpers, but, aside from Valentin and Giselle, I have not smelled more than the occasional guest. Either they are not the most well-off nobles - which is hard to believe with the size of their house and everything I have seen within it - or they prefer to do things themselves, but no matter the reason, since there do not appear to be any children or other close relatives living with them that need to be taken care of, I suppose it works for them.