April 9th, 2012


(no subject)

[This morning was, Clive can say with certainty, the first time in his life that he's woken up with a stoat sitting on his face. Much less one that talks. He's got another nine mornings of it in store, though. After a very surreal conversation during which she explained who and what she is, though, he's headed out with said stoat - Helwyr, she'd introduced herself as - curled around his neck like a scarf.

They're... bonding.

I don't have to feed you, right?

Course not. Idiot. I'm not a pet.

...at least if you were a pet I could get rid of you.

[Care to interrupt, while Helwyr's biting him?]