The world is now still going 'round

POSTED: Fri Apr 22, 2016 10:36 pm

Thread Prompt: Perform some spring cleaning on a major location in the Court, such as the Hotel, Stables, or your own home.

The Kingdom was changed.

Pascal was frightened by it every time he set foot outdoors; sometimes he stopped and shook at unbidden memories of the roar and shattered glass, and sometimes he panicked because he was worried he would not be able to find his way home.

Skoll assured him that the land would seem familiar to him soon enough—which was easy enough for him to claim. The entire territory reeked of the Seneschal’s piss; he seemed all too happy and eager to mark and re-mark their new borders. Pascal hated him for it until the first time they walked by the sea and fear crackled like a stormcloud from Skoll’s golden pelt. He understood, then—but he couldn’t quite muster up similar optimism. It had always been difficult for him to adjust.

He was happiest curled up in his room, watching the kittens with chin on his paws. They mewled and suckled and did little else, but he liked the way that Muddy bundled them up and carried them back to their corner. He was pleased that she had decided to bring them here when they came back to the hotel.

“I need you to do something for me.”

Pascal lifted his head and swiveled his ears backwards before he turned his head, blinking at the white tomcat.

“There’s some grass outside,”
Wilson deadpanned. “You should see if it’s growing properly.”

The wolf cocked his head. “Why?”

“Because it would, astonishingly, be more useful than this.” His whiskers twitched back and he snorted. “At least go fuss over your books and rearrange them for the umpteenth time or, I don’t bloody know, pick up some glass around here. You lazy clod!”

Muddy flattened her ears and hissed at him over her kittens. “And you’re bloody enabling him!” Wilson spat at her. She glared and busied herself grooming the babies.

Pascal shook his head, more confused by the sarcasm and surprised at a cat bossing him around than upset or angry. He did manage to get to his feet and look at Wilson as if for more instructions, however, and with a tone that was patient only through grit teeth, the feline explained that the hotel was still a wreck and that there was broken glass still in places, not to mention furniture toppled in empty rooms.

Eventually the Margrave complied, shifting into a more suitable form and heading out into the hallway, yawning. He scoured the hall for debris then roamed in one direction, only for Wilson to hiss “The library is fine, you little—” and for Pascal to veer the other way to make himself more useful near one of the storerooms.
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