Transitional PeriodThe moon tugged on Daaren's attention. Around this time of the month, time seemed to slow, and the world to come closer, right under his skin.
It is... peaceful, he told himself.
Though part of that might be just that most of the others had already changed and left over the last few days, first of all the youngsters, who wanted to roam longer and further. When the topic had come up, Daaren had volunteered to take over some of their work. It had surprised Marrik, who was more used to rebukes for lack of responsibility from him, but a moody reply of, "You feed yourselves, it saves work here", had shut him up, and kept him from badgering Daaren about reasons.
Another night until full moon. Maybe I can manage another night.
Daaren woke up well before dawn, sore and restless. Resisting the change wasn't worth the effort any more, so he went outside, and gave in. The aches got worse as his muscles and bones stretched and shifted - like teething all over your body, he'd hear
DepartureThe door was wide open. It led from the old cellar to a corridor whose one side was all windows, with blue light filtering through. There was a faintly glowing threshold dividing the dirt floor on this side from the carpet on the other.
Nicolas tool a deep breath and stepped through. The door collapsed to a fading point of light immediately after.
Angus didn't like it. He hadn't liked much of anything since Nicolas had found him--well, that was unjust. After the initial worry the human would cause a stir, it was nice being able to talk to him openly. For a while. Until Nicolas had turned more or less to blackmail. His secrecy in exchange for knowledge. If it had been anyone else, things would have been different, but Angus couldn't work against the rightful owner of the house.
Hopefully he had paid attention and didn't cause any messes. Or run into any dangers too big to handle.
On the other hand, if he stayed disappeared, this might solve the problem. They just had to take care whoeve
Wilful MisunderstandingWith his nieces either old enough they wouldn't break any of his individually glass-encased insects, or moved so far away they didn't come, John had a birthday dinner in his home again. It did not protect from surprises, though.
He stared at the joint present, purchased under the direction of his younger sister, if her grin was any indication.
"I remembered you were looking for one."
"May, I meant the species of wasp, not something you need specially made."
Hanging from claws on six spider legs from the roof of its cage, the startled tarantula hawk ruffled its wings.