"Don't forget to ask Flynn about-" Torram said for what had to be the thirtieth time that evening, but cut himself short when Birch gave him what he'd coined "The Death Glare". He laughed and put his hands up, palms outwards, in a sign of appeasement. "Okay, okay, you won't forget."
"Don't you have something better to do than pester me?" Birch growled at him, rolling her shoulders in a fidgety way as she straightened the pale blue shirt that served as her "off duty" garb. Birch was doing an awful lot of growling at him lately, but Tor had decided not to take it personally. She'd refused to speak about what had happened in her time in the Omni's garden, but Tor's own experience had been enough to make him sympathetic. Still, he was more than ready to get Birch thinking of other, less depressing, things, and a trip with Danny and Dylan sounded like the perfect way to do just that. Though Torram was about four years older than the twins, he'd found a kindred spirit in the good-hearted and studious Danny after visiting the clinic several times in the past few months with a variety of nicks, bumps, bruises, and scrapes from his lessons as a woodworker. He didn't know Dylan quite as well, but he liked Dylan's fierce and adventurous attitude, and knew Birch would too.
Rochambeau, who was far sunnier in disposition than Birch lately, bounced out from beneath Birch's bed to swipe at Torram's feet with his paws a few times. When Torram went to reach for the little otter the playful beast disappeared under the bed again, leaving both Tor and Birch shaking their heads.
"Not really, it's my day off remember?" Torram replied, flopping backwards onto Birch's bed. Birch glowered at him, but her fierce façade was ruined by a hint of a smile as she spotted Ro's nimble hands sneaking out from beneath the bed towards Tor's feet again. He yelped and jumped as the otter grabbed him, scratching the back of his heel lightly. As quick as he could manage, he drug the otter out from under the bed and plopped the creature into his lap. Ro promptly started chewing on his shirt, mock growling and tugging on him in hopes of a tug-of-war game. "When are you heading out? Soon, right? You don't want to miss him!"
Rolling her eyes, Birch strode towards the door. "I'm going, I'm going! Min, keep the boy out of trouble," Birch said. Torram's familiar gave a sleepy wave of her wing from her perch in the corner of the room.
"Yeah, out of trouble!" Ro echoed, imitating her glare at them over his shoulder and running into Birch's legs immediately.
"Ro, who said you-?" Birch began, ready to tell the otter to stay put, but he met her eyes with his own chocolaty brown ones full of hope. Birch sighed, shook her head, and swooped up the naughty beast.
"Ro, no running in the halls!" Birch hissed, hurrying after her familiar as he scrambled down the hallway. He'd caught a whiff of something delectable just down the hall. Completely unafraid of the husky, the little otter slid across the smooth floors as the hallway opened up into a staircase and stopped just short of colliding with Flynn's boots. Birch sighed, running a hand over her recently shorn hair, and scooped up the creature before he could start attacking Flynn's laces. "Sorry, he's a... handful."
Rochambeau was blinking innocently up at Flynn even as his bewhiskered nose twitched at the heavenly scents coming from Denahi's basket.
"I was hoping to talk to you, actually, do you have a second?" Birch asked. Her familiar twisted about in her arms, nimble fingers reaching not-so-subtly for a shiny button on Flynn's jacket. |