Poke. "Tail," Bonnie, more asleep than awake, groaned, lifting a lazy hand to brush at her own face. Poke. "Tail, Clyde." Poke, poke. "C'mon, man, I'm sleepin' here!" She snapped her eyes open, staring right into amber eyes almost the exact same shade as her own.

"Um," said a little voice, which was most assuredly not her familiar's. A little girl with pale skin and dark hair stood in front of the couch, crouched down so they were eye-to-eye. She twisted her dirty nightgown in one too-thin hand. "Uh, big shish?"

"What th'hecker you doin' here, Gretta?" Bonnie sat up suddenly, her hand drifting to her temple as her brain tried to escape her skull. She moaned as she cast a look around the room - it wasn't the Valkyrie's clubhouse that she found, but her own family home. Sometimes it happened, when she got drunk enough. She ran a dry tongue over her dry lips and sighed.

"Um, uh, um," Gretta's swaying increased, blinking big, long-lashed eyes.

"Just spit it out, kiddo," Bonnie tugged Gretta onto her lap, bundling her up in the threadbare blanket she plucked off the ground. She was so cold!

"Um, big shish, Luke..." Gretta drew a breath - putting words together was hard. "Luke frewed up again," The little girl gave a small chuckle. "All over da floor."

Bonnie sighed. Right. Of course he did.

"Where the hell's Oldest?"

"Uh, she's sick 'gain."

"Feck," Bonnie swore under her breath. Could Oldest seriously be pregnant again? As if the twelve of them weren't already enough, now she had to pop out kids every few years like clockwork!

Gretta gave a little chuckle, sounding a little uncomfortable. "Das a bad werd, big shish."

Bonnie eyed the girl, who blushed and ducked her head a little. Bonnie sighed, hugging her tiny body against hers and giving her a loving squeeze.

---

Bonnie woke up abruptly, her back propped up against the nearby tree and her arms still outstretched as if hugging her little sister. Her head throbbed and her mouth was dry. How long had it been since she'd dreamt of Gretta? She let her hands fall, feeling sick and empty in a way that went far beyond a mere hangover. She rubbed at her grubby eyes, which went wide and confused as she finally took in her surroundings.

"What th' actual feck is this shit?" she moaned. Clyde, strewn next to her in all his glory, perked up, his short, fluffy tail wiggling. Bonnie grabbed his face, putting her nose against his as she furiously scratched behind his ears. "How'd you let me get into this shit again, Clyde? You're supposed t'keep an eye on me, dontcha know?"

"Whoop whoop!" the hyena agreed cheerfully, lapping at her face. A loud meow from the tree above drew their attention upwards, and a fuzzy memory crawled back. Chasing her cat through the woods - no wonder her ass and feet hurt like a bitch.

"That's right, it's your fault!" Bonnie sighed, slowly dragging herself up to her feet. "How'd ya even get stuck up there in the first place, ya fuzzy little shit? C'mon, get down here t' mummy now." The short woman held her hands up, ready to catch her beast, but the massive Kneazle in the tree gave a low, concerned meow, fluffy tail flicking in irritation.

A horse suddenly parted from the forest. With a loud yelp, Bonnie teleported instinctively; still muddled by her hangover, it was a messy ordeal - she found herself perched on the branch of the opposite tree, now eye-to-eye with the man standing on the horse's back.

"What the feck! 'Bout scared me to death there. Dontcha know not to be doin'..." Bon gestured emphatically but nonsensically. "Stuff without looking where ya goin'?"