Eliza Bahn
Fri 03:28AM EST
It was like any other restless morning - spent awake in a world of darkness. A world without color or image. The only reckoning of time judged on the sounds - whether the birds called out in a dawn chorus or the crickets serenaded the stars. Tonight, even the insects were quiet. The property was still and quiet. A ghostly mirage of a house that would normally be drowned with in the strains of lilting pipe music and the incessant beat of hollow drums. The porch light blazed yellow, spilling down on the various items of furnishings taking up a majority of space at one end and casting long shadows in their wake. The front door was opened only a fraction, but enough to allow a seeping warmth to escape from the cosy living room and onto the steps beyond. A lone figure, Eliza, reclined on the swinging double seater chair, swathed in a rich wool blanket around her waist and covering her feet and propped up by a downy pillow. A hand hung lazily over the edge, trailing her fingers back and forth against the fridig wood boards of the porch.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 03:38AM EST
She hears him coming from a long ways off, his footsteps crunching over snow melted and refrozen into a brittle sheet of ice in the dark forest. His lope is long and steady, each stride devouring distance until his feet were crunching, instead, on the ice-coated gravel beads of her driveway as he crossed it. Point A to Point B, and if her house happened to lie between them, he wasn't complaining.
Slung over his shoulder, a well-oiled Winchester rifle - a hunting gun never once turned on a man or Garou. He had his hands for his friends and his claws for his foes, and that was enough.
The windchimes ring softly as a chill wind stirs the night. The big Philodox slows as he passes her house, expecting the woman to be asleep. Seeing her on the porch, he frowns. It was below freezing; even in his thick leather coat, double-lined, he could feel the cold. "What are you doing out here?" he asks her, changing directions, approaching.
Eliza Bahn
Fri 03:45AM EST
"Thinking."
She slowly turns her head, tipping it back and to the side, so that she was facing his general direction. She knew the sound of his passing, his footfall was unmistakable. She knew his voice well, also. As well as many other things, in addition. A vague sense of a smile whispers across her face as she closes her eyes slowly, eyelashes fanning across her cheekbones.
"Yourself?"
Michael Donnelly
Fri 03:56AM EST
Michael stops a few steps from her and lowers the rifle from its strap on his shoulder, resting it gently stock-down on the gravel. If she could, she would see that the wood is lovingly maintained, blondeish in that luminous way polished wood can sometimes be. The gunsteel is dark grey with a hint of blue, and clean.
"Passing through." He lifts the gun an inch from the gravel and taps it down again in gentle emphasis of his answer, "Hunting." He raises his gaze to the empty sky as though he expected to find his quarry there. "Canada geese are going south this time of year, and dawn's the time to catch them if you mean to do a creep-up." A smile in his voice, "My da taught me all the tricks a long time ago.
"I have time, though. Do you mind if I joined you?"
Eliza Bahn
Fri 04:01AM EST
"Not at all"
She lifts her legs, bending them at the knees and pulling them in towards her chest to make room on the swinging chair for him to sit down. It was more comfortable (not to mention warm) than planting his ass on the wooden planking of the porch. She curls her hands in the warm folds of the thick woolen blanket, pulling it around her closer as wisps of chilled air seep under and between the volumous pile while she moved. A glass, half empty, was still within easy reach of her hand, the sides frosted with condensation.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 04:07AM EST
The porch steps and then the porch planks thump and squeal under his footfall. He leaves the gun at the top of the few stairs, leaned in a corner like Emily Dickinson's loaded life, and comes across to her emptyhanded. It occurs to her that perhaps he ought to bring her a gift sometime (...red roses...), but the idea slips by the wayside as he lowers himself into the porch swing, padding depressing beneath his weight, joints creaking. Shoulder to shoulder through his coat, and her enveloping blanket, the rhythmic flex and relax of his thighs rocks the swinging chair gently as he looks out over her front yard - as much as it as he could see in the night.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Eliza Bahn
Fri 04:12AM EST
She stretches her legs out in front of her, curling her toes under the blanket before lifting them up, turning herself to one side and propping the pillow up in the corner the seat on the side she was occupying. Without asking, comfortable within his presence for many and varied reasons and all her own, she turns herself so that her some of her back was using him for a prop and her feet were snuggly entrenched within the warmth of the pillow. She uncovers on arm from under the woolen blanket, resting it along the length of his thigh and tracing patterns with her fingertips against his knee. How... cosy...
Eliza Bahn
Fri 04:16AM EST
"Just something that someone asked me... I was thinking about it, that's all."
A stir of memories that would have perhaps have been better left to lie in peace. It hadn't stirred a resentment or a remorse, but a thoughtful pondering and a glimpse into visual memories that were clearer after a period of thought that they had been when the questions had been asked. The light, the blood, the splintered glass and slivers of reflective plastic strewn across the asphalt. glaring evilly in the orange glow of the street lights. It was coming back in snippets and snatches and it was something to be pondered... and hopefully put back in the past when all that was worth hording from them was taken.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 04:26AM EST
He covers her hand with his own, larger one, threading his fingers through hers. The angle at which she sits and the way he watches the night faces them in opposite directions. The easy contact is all that binds them loosely - that, and the words they share.
"Hm." Barrelchested and large, the sound resonants deep in his body. He draws a breath as though to ask further, but silences it, instead turning her hand over in his. His thumb rubs absently over her palm. Then, simply, "I see."
Perhaps not the most tactful thing to say at the moment.
Eliza Bahn
Fri 04:34AM EST
"Yes. You do."
It couldhave been said sarcastic or archly, biting or scathing. It was none of them, merely nuetral with the distant echo of tone that was partially distracted by other thoughts, other times, other people. She drops her head back, resting it against the edge of his shoulder, using the line of his arm to cushion of spine as comfortably as was possible. She then leans forward and downwards, hand sliding along the porch till it connects with the glass, close to tipping it by accident. She takes it into her hand, fingers moistened by the frosted glass, and sits up, leaning back again. She sips slowly, eyes blank (as if staring at nothing - which was quite an apt way of saying it: for she saw... nothing) and there is a vague lingering smell of tequila mixed with the tang citrus of orange juice.
Noah
Fri 04:36AM EST
The world evolves in a different cycle, far out in the threshold of the Pine Barrens. Naked Trees cast long, thin skeleton shadows upon the ground, but tonight there is no moon. Or barely the birthing of one.. Within the darkness, a long, deep howl cuts through seren silence of the forest. Somewhere near the roadside.. A mile or two from the closet cabins.. It doesn't echo for long, quietly fading in a passing breeze.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 04:44AM EST
It was probably something he admired her for, if he stopped to think about it: her quiet acceptance of a blindness that, surely, was not inborn. The chair rocks gently to and fro. Just as could have been arch or lashing, but was not, so too could he have said some pretty Fianna triviality (Yes, and I thank my lucky stars for it, because you're the most beautiful thing I've ever...), he does not.
The howl cuts the night, achingly lovely in the way only a tribemates' could ever be, Ahroun or not, and Michael lifts his head a little. Beneath her long and liquid spine, the muscles of his woodsman's arm tense briefly - not out of fear or anger or readiness to fight, but out of some silent gladness for the sound. "It sounds like Noah," he says to Eliza, "or perhaps the Athro, Gabriel."
Harlequin sinclair
Fri 04:46AM EST
*it had been snacking on a rabbit when the howl reaches its ears.curling its lips back it breathes deep drawing air in through both mouth and nose. no the thing is not standing behind the next tree so it does not matter. well not much. another mouthful of food swallowed it looks through the trees in what it presumes was the general direction of the call. loathe to give y up its prey it gulps the last few mouthfuls. *
Eliza Bahn
Fri 04:51AM EST
Another thoughtful silence as the chair swings idlely under their combined weight, for all the chains creaked slightly at the short movements back and forth as it kept them suspended precariously above the porch boards.
"He came wandering into my backyard one morning."
Another sip of the beverage, glass wrapped with long, winter-chilled fingers.
"The Athro, that is." A sort of clarification, as two of their tribemates had been mentioned in the same breath. She quietly accepted most people, whatever their foibles: even ones as pushy as Dire or as grumpy as Decker. However, Gabriel, had been something that had caught her somewhat off guard. She hadn't heard anyone speak in the manner he did since the atrocious renditions of Shakespear's plays in high school.
Noah
Fri 04:56AM EST
Something was on the move. It was huge. It was dangerous. It was resembled a beast out of Celtic folklore. A massive, ancient form of a crimson-gold dire wolf. Snow-white fur graced the underside of his belly, legs and throat. Reddish-gold fur caressed the from the crown of the massive head to tail tip. Cold, blue eyes skimming over a dark line of trees. The dire wolf moves quickly, for its huge size, on large paws.
Nostrils flare out, rough pink tongue lolls out to wash over his muzzle as the dire wolf slowed his pace. The scents of rustic civilization were near. The Cabins, not far away. He knew this route, took it often. The dire wolf pauses once more, his head lifting up to the night sky, bellowing out another long sonnet. Three howls he did.. This was the second howl.
And it was the second howl, that was the scariest. Something in its tune, was dark, ominous and primal. It made a chill run down the spine on the courageous of mundanes. It was louder now, than the first.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 04:59AM EST
"Oh?" A chuckle as he reaches over ("May I?") and snags her glass for a sip before passing it back. "I've only met him once, and he struck me as being not terribly friendly, all in all. What did he want?"
He taps fingers against the wood of the chair's armrest, considering. Howling back from her front porch might attract unwanted attention in case someone was listening - but then again, really, who would be around to listen at this hour, in this place?
It's the second howl that decides him. "Excuse me," he murmurs, an odd thing to say before he rises, reaches inside the door to kill the light and, in the cover of darkness, grow into the shape of a beast.
Head back, ears back, the Half-Moon Judge throws a return howl into the crisp winter wind, greeting and acknowledgment in one.
Harlequin sinclair
Fri 05:01AM EST
*it is a low growl that escapes his lips the second howl causing him to jump dropping the remians of his prey. and then a third from a different quatre this is a busy little town tonight*
Eliza Bahn
Fri 05:04AM EST
Unfortunately for Michael, he sets off King who was sleeping in the living room with his stomach as close to the fan heater as humanly (caninely) possible. He joined in the nightly rendition with a series of baying that was not as poetic as the sounds of wolves baying, but it was deep and resonate, coming from the depth of his barrel chest.
Eliza lifts a hand, covering her mouth and in the process the smirk that crept along the edges of her lips. It wasn't polite to chuckle at your guests.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 05:08AM EST
The heavyset wolf that now paces at her door lifts his head for a series of short, sharp barks interspersed among the dog's in an amused and amusing impromptu duet, progressively quieter until the last is little more than a whuff. A moment passes, long claws undulled by citylife clicking on hardwood as the wolf crouches on his haunches, curls his tail about his large paws, and somehow becomes a man again. Grinning, Michael gets up, popping his neck, and returns to sit on the chair, half-abashed.
"Well," laughing, "that took a bit of steam out of the whole affair."
Noah
Fri 05:11AM EST
The duo of howls caught his attention. Large ears roll forward on his head. He follows the calling, tracking it down to a very familiar house. The large beast steps out from the safety of trees to watch in silent amusement.. It returns the howled greeting, in a third howl.. This time.. something could be heard in it as if it were more of a greeting than a song. It was also the closet howl yet. Right near Eliza's back yard.
Harlequin sinclair
Fri 05:13AM EST
*you never know who is in the dark listening, and they say dogs are smart. rolling his eyes he almost has to laugh at the "singing" of the wolves. although it does bring him to wonder what they where up to the sets of howls drawing ever closer together. with a leap he is in motion a shadow moving, long strides quickly eating up the distance only to slow almost to a crawl as he draws nearer where he is sure the howls came from.*
Eliza Bahn
Fri 05:14AM EST
She could have made a comment on her guests being able to do a sing-a-long with her pets, but it would have been something of a social faux pas. Sort of equating her family to the domesticated canine. For the most part, of the family she knew in the area, however precious few that was, she'd have to say that her Rottweiler was more domestic than most of them: even if he couldn't do the dishes.
"The wolf is getting awfully close."
Not that it was of much concern than such a wild beast was possibly within the confines of her property, even if she did have small children (tucked away snug in their beds for the night). If it was Noah or Gabriel, as Michael had predicted, there was no threat. Even if either one could flip at the drop of a hat and grow nine-shades-o-hairy. It was the peace (hah!) that came with a life surrounded by the perculiarites of beast and man rolled into one.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 05:19AM EST
"It sounds like Noah Drinks-Too-Much to me," he tells (reassures?) her, as a fourth howl arcs overhead.
Men could recognize one another by voice and face; Garou could recognize one another by the same, even across the forms to some degree. Besides, one would expect an Athro Galliard's greeting to be longer than the one that shivers across the night. More flowery. More...Shakespearian.
"It sounds like he's coming for a visit, too," Michael adds.
Eliza Bahn
Fri 05:25AM EST
"Have you seen him since...?"
She doesn't need to name a day or a date, the night was memorable for a lot of reasons that had nothing to do with those particulars, but she was not lewd enough to bring them up vocally, especially with the prospect of Noah being within ear shot. Needless to say, it was a night that involved alcohol, rough toasts and ... hanging pictures...
Harlequin sinclair
Fri 05:27AM EST
*he creeps lower now flattening body close to the ground a thin black line that slinks between the trees, every now and then tasting the wind trying to catch sent of those he wishes to look upon*
Michael Donnelly
Fri 05:29AM EST
"Since I helped you hang a few pictures?" he teases gently, and subtly enough that eavesdroppers wouldn't know too much amiss. Of course, Dire's big mouth had already let Noah in on that particular joke, but Michael didn't know that. "No, actually, I haven't. I'd hoped he'd stop by for dinner with Dee and I, but if he has, we were both out." Rocking again, chair squeals softly with each backward sway.
Eliza Bahn
Fri 05:35AM EST
"I have a few more prints to go up, if you are interested in doing some more nailing."
His tease was gentle and very subtle, even if Noah was already 'in' on the joke thanks to Dire's attempts at being 'funny' that seemed to have only annoyed the Fianna. Hers was something more laden with innuendo that would definately not be missed by the man sitting beside her. She tilts her head back, looking at him askance in such a gesture. A faint chuckle before she takes a sip from the glass cupped in her hand.
Noah
Fri 05:38AM EST
hanging pictures...
He knew all about hanging pictures...
The dire wolf retreats the dark line of trees, tucked away in a dark curtain of shadows. The area around the wolf, mysteriously growing to an inky-black. Too dense to see by. Perfect for hiding a shifting form..
From whence a wolf stood.. Emerges a giant of a man. Towering 6'7, blond, average looking, intimidating to some..
Garbed in his warmest clothes, of the leather duster that conceals the heavy bulk of muscle. Dark grey overalls, cling to his waist, the straps dangle at his side, not on his shoulders. A heavy flannel shirt partly buttoned up beneath a thermal shirt. It was cold, very cold. He was still getting used to the weather. The ball cap replaced by a red bandana that creased across his brow. Most of the blond mane in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Clenched between bare fingers, hands covered in leather gloves to the knuckles. Was the worn strap of his duffle bag. Did he always carry it with him? He steps out along the road, his bulky frame a dark shadow in the night. As he ventures up to the little mail box in front of Eliza's house.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 05:41AM EST
A shake of his head, and a helpless chuckle as he lifts his large hands a ways, lets them fall. "And here I was trying to protect your reputation," he murmurs. Then, the sound of feet on ice-crusted gravel raises his head. The Philodox peers in the direction of the mailbox, night obscuring vision to some degree - but not enough to make mistake of the massive form. Few men grew that big, few men wandered around at this hour, and few men carried a duffle bag around everywhere. Put all three together, and there was only one in a five-hundred-mile radius.
"It's Noah," he tells Eliza quietly and lifts a hand to the Ahroun, but leaves the actual, verbal greeting to the mistress of the house.
Harlequin sinclair
Fri 05:47AM EST
another listener draws steadily closer circling so as not to alert those on the porch with his sent. he does not step from the safty of darkness for now he would rather remain hidding. dark amber eyes watch as he tilts his head to the side better to catch the sound of voices. *
Eliza Bahn
Fri 05:48AM EST
Her reputation. She didn't have one to speak of, really. Not one that needed coodling and protecting, either way. Five of her 'extended family' came to visit - mostly on a irregular basis - three of her own tribe and two that were of the Fenrir. All male. Yet, nothing was amiss that could stir rumors, if there was a real community for rumors to sprout from, save the late hours of those visitations.
"Good morning, Noah."
How often did she say that to her visitors. A good early morning: the time they usually arrived. Usually never leaving till the sun started to peek its glorious face over the horizon. She lazily raises the hand clutching the glass in a gesture that combined a salute and a wave all on ine.
Noah
Fri 05:55AM EST
He caught the gesture of voice and the wave of Eliza's hand. It didn't take him long to make out the male figure beside her. A low chuckle of amusement, rumbles in his throat.
"Why am I not surprised to see you here, Michael. Found a cozy corner of the woods to make a new home in?"
Michael Donnelly
Fri 05:55AM EST
Not that any of the three would be able to catch his scent, now that all were human-shaped. After Eliza greets her latest visitor, Michael echoes the sentiment, "Morning, Noah." The east was beginning to blue; the geese would be waking soon, and he would have to be on his way if he wanted to catch anything. Michael's rifle stands in the corner of the porch, carefully polished, lovingly upkept: a huntsman's tool, and not a weapon of war.
Noah
Fri 05:59AM EST
He moves from where he stood by the mailbox, coming down the gravel path to the porch. Perceptive eyes taking, first their surroundings, then their images. His nostrils flare out, breathing in the most sensitive scents in the air. His sense of smell and sight, superior than normal mundanes, even some wolves. But he doesn't catch scent of the shadowy intruder.. Not yet.
Eliza Bahn
Fri 05:59AM EST
"He was just visiting on his way out hunting."
So, let's not tack expectations and connotations onto something that has barely started, let alone had time to develop. It was merely one thing to this date: familial closeness. (Incest on the farm: Pump Kin)... The whole good friends, no less, but no more, at least that it would seem that either of them were aware or would show. It was a twisted world that they all were forced to live in all based on their genetics.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 06:01AM EST
The swinging of the chair slows and stops gradually. An easy shrug, and an easy grin for his tribesmate. "A creep-up on some geese I saw camped out near the pond thataway," he confirms with a vague gesture northward. "I saw the light on." Well. It had been on, until he turned it off. "Decided to come sit for a while, and it turned out I'm too lazy to get up. So you'll forgive me if I don't rise to greet you, Rhya."
Noah
Fri 06:05AM EST
"No, formalities are needed this morning, Michael" A single brow arches upward as he regards Eliza for a moment, and then Michael again. He steps up onto the porch, moving over to stand on the edge of the top step, but coming no closer to them. He lets the duffle bag settle on the wooden planks. His fingers release their hold on the drawstrings.
"I wouldn't blame you for not wanting to continue hunting. With a lady like that near you." He gives Michael a-knowing-look. The grin on his face widening even more. "Hang any pictures of late?"
Harlequin sinclair
Fri 06:09AM EST
he trys to place the name that drift to him now on the breeze with the faces he sees. committing to memory the sight and sound of them ahh but if he could only get closer. not daring to move from his hiding space he routinly tenses and relaxes muslces one used to sitting patience one practiced at not moving. those eyes continue to watch.
Eliza Bahn
Fri 06:09AM EST
A bubble of laughter emerges from her throat and she leans forward, hugging her knees up to her and resting her cheek on her knees, head turns to look in Noah's direction. Very smooth, boyo...
"Why? Did you want to help?"
A flick of her eyebrows upwards and a sly smirk.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 06:12AM EST
That damned knowing look. He saw it on Dire's wolfish face and now he's seeing it on Noah's humanish face. That Get and his god-damn big mouth. To Michael's credit, the husky Philodox doesn't blush and doesn't snicker like a schoolboy getting a peep of the girls' locker room. A grin, a shrug, and then a quirk of an eyebrow at Eliza, and a chuckle.
He, wisely, keeps quiet.
Noah
Fri 06:15AM EST
He chuckles darkly, turning around to face them. His massive arms come up to fold over his barrel-chest. "I'm not sure.. I wouldn't want to out performance the boy, there." His words meant in jest.. Perhaps Michael will take better to Noah's humor than Corran did.
"Besides, he hasn't already worn himself out on you yet, Eliza.. that you would seek to devour some other conquests?"
Eliza Bahn
Fri 06:22AM EST
"Devour is one way of putting it."
Another flick of her eyebrows upwards and a husky chuckle as she brushes her cheek against the fuzzy wool of the blanket strewn across her legs and against her stomach in an attempt to keep warm in the frigid winter tempretures.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 06:23AM EST
Sociosexual hierarchy banter. Freud, eat your heart out. "Well, aren't we optimistic, Noah," says Michael, taking the bait with a grin that flickers white in the brightening grey light of morning.
Eliza Bahn
Fri 06:28AM EST
"And since I can't rightly 'see' whether you could... ahem... outperform Michael... you'd have to perform a demonstration for us."
And in this weather, he wouldn't be showing a very impressive tackle. At least not outside. Shrink-wrap-packaging-weather it was out here. A teasing smile, a quirk of an eyebrow. Oh the things people say and do in the twilight hours of the day.
Noah
Fri 06:31AM EST
"Has much as you'd probably enjoy that, dear Eliza. I'm afraid I must decline. And I wouldn't want to make Michael jealous." Another humorous ribbing. Nothing more. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Turns his head to glance over the shoulder and peer out at the road. "So how are the two of you getting along?"
Eliza Bahn
Fri 06:37AM EST
"Things have been rather quiet for me, actually, save for one our 'relatives', Decker, stopping by."
A vague shrug of her shoulders and she sits up, one arm still encircling her updrawn legs. She finishes off the last of her drink and places the glass down, just under the edge of the swining chair, before leaning back against Michael once again. He would be a good source of heat: being well sized and male, since they tended to throw off more heat than a female.
Harlequin sinclair
Fri 06:39AM EST
**he doestrn movce he doesnt even blink as that gaze passes over him and his hidding spot.*
Michael Donnelly
Fri 06:47AM EST
Michael didn't say anything through most of this. Maybe he was outwitted. Maybe he fell asleep. Maybe the player's just too damn tired to remember to check this window.
Jumping back into the flow of things, though, the Philodox shrugs the shoulder Eliza wasn't leaning on. "Same old same old. Settling down in the cabin. Dee's still bitching about the drive she has to make to get into "civilization". She wants to know when the cousins are coming for a visit, so the invitation's open. Try not to come on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, though. Those are Dee's cooking days, and tonight she served hardboiled eggs. Like thirty minutes, and salty as the Dead Sea."
He wasn't shitting. That's the sad part.
Report to the Fostern finished, Michael props one elbow up on the back of the seat. "What about you? Anything interesting?"
Eliza Bahn
Fri 06:53AM EST
(I think we lost Noah)
Eliza Bahn
Fri 07:01AM EST
A shiver runs through her and she pulls the woollen blanket up around her neck and digs her toes into the downy feather pillow covering her feet. The dawn chorus of the birds trilled from the trees as the sun continued to rise over the horizon and alight the area with the new day (or at least light up their perspective).
"I'm going inside, if anyone wishes to warm up."
Ah, warmth. Something to be craved and held close. Ah, fan heater. Something that was hogged by the Rottweiler snoring in the living room, but that could be easily remedied. That, and considering the time, the children were bound to be crawling out of bed and demanding her attention soon enough. At least Mae could take care of them for the morning while she caught a few hours of a cat-nap.
Harlequin sinclair
Fri 07:03AM EST
*he dissapears as silently as he came a black shadow rnning across the ground krrping to the long shadows of the dawn leaving the vabin and its inhabitatns well alone.
Michael Donnelly
Fri 07:06AM EST
Considering the presence of Noah, and considering the prospect of two screaming kids at the break of dawn, Michael makes the wise choice and rises with her, heading for his gun. "I ought to get going. Those geese are probably halfway to Florida already. Thanks for the company, Eliza." Pause. "If you want to come over for dinner sometime, the invitation's open to you, too."
Eliza Bahn
Fri 07:09AM EST
Screaming kids. Heading for his gun. Was it a foreshadowing of the future? Hmmm...
"As is the invitation to visit whenever you are in the area."
She rose after him, setting her feet firmly on the ground to halt the rocking of the chair so that she was able to stand without having it bump into the back of her legs. She follows the sounds of Michael's foortsteps and reaches out a hand, grasping Michael's arm. She leans in, kissing his cheek softly, and smiles before gathering the blanket up in her arms and nudging the front door open with a toe. King was already up on his feet, hearing the sound of movement and feeling the hollow echo of his own stomach. Movement = Breakfast to the large Rottie.
