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I probably shouldn't complain, but since when does that stop me - Diary of a Necromancer
Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up
I probably shouldn't complain, but since when does that stop me
Muse continues to be a danger to herself and others:

"I'm going down," Jason announces, tramping past the kitchen doorway.

Not so much time left for tea as I'd reckoned, then. I unplug the kettle that had taken longer to find in a shop than it should have. The back door is already closing. "Let me get my coat," I call after him.

(If I were a traditionalist I'd ponce about in leather dusters, I suppose. The look doesn't really work on me. I have a sensible brown anorak more suited to the bloody weather here.)

Jason prefers to have privacy for this. It's become my task to sit on the back stairs and deflect our landlady should she conceive a sudden inconvenient desire to go down to the basement with her wash. (She hates us, but not for any of the reasons you might think. It's a sort of generalised misanthropy that once reduced the postman to tears on the doorstep. Jason still holds the stubborn opinion she's a kumiho and we just don't know how to recognise it.)

Miguel and Carlos from the middle flat pass me on the steps, with polite nods of veiled curiosity. I speak more Spanish than they do English, but we're still not at a conversational level; explaining the muffled howls and whimpers coming from the building's laundry-room is a bit beyond anything I feel up to. Let them believe that I'm waiting for our rattling dryer to finish, it will have to serve.

Quiet, now. I go down the last steps to the basement and open the door for a wolf with a curly blond coat, felted mop worthy of a komondor falling into piercingly blue eyes. "Walkies," I say.

Jason snorts.

He's restless tonight, urging at the lead to wander far afield. Just as well the one about crossing running water is bollocks, we'd have to live in Kansas. From one bridge I can see the city and the stars, strange juxtaposition of a strange age. Jason finds a starry sky unsettling, child of electric light that he is. Maybe between terms I'll suggest that we go off to somewhere genuinely wild, show him something to have a proper howl at. Canada, perhaps, if we can think how to get me past the authorities; he hasn't seen his grandparents in a while, I don't believe.

I let Jason off the tether to romp about in a little park, where he flushes out and devours a rabbit. He has enough sense even on these nights to be careful of the game he goes after, mindful of lessons learnt as a pup about having to show up to school the next morning smelling of skunk. But there's a nature centre nearby that hosts a population of deer; one of these nights, he says, and I think he could.

It's not hard to tell when we need to head back. Jason will start yawning more, and sighing, and if I'm particularly slow to notice these cues he might well just flop down at my feet. It's best to see him home before he begins looking for a spot to bed down, circling like any other dog settling in on a chair. But I bring his change of clothes and a blanket, just in case we do get caught out.

He doesn't mind my watching whilst he's coming back to his human self. (His words; I'd asked, early in our acquaintance, and he shrugged it off, but seemed pleased I'd tried to be respectful of his nature. Jason and his siblings were born to the wolf, they see no separation, but they realise the world would draw a distinction for them.) This much he will do up in the flat; he'll simply hop up onto his own bed, make a few passes, and nest into the blankets, perhaps rolling over to expose his belly if he's had a particularly relaxing evening of it. Once he's fallen asleep, his body remembers itself, a shiver that begins in the muscles and spreads through bone until all at once my flatmate has returned, fully a man and Jason again.

And, being fully Jason again, fully bloody naked. I draw the blankets up over him and creep out.


6 responses | moved to respond?
ashnistrike From: ashnistrike Date: January 13th, 2011 06:34 pm (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Aw, that's sweet.
robling_t From: robling_t Date: January 13th, 2011 10:36 pm (UTC) (permalink this entry)
...And I just now realized myself that he changes in the laundry-room because the dryer drowns out the noise... {facepalm}

Edited at 2011-01-13 10:37 pm (UTC)
ljgeoff From: ljgeoff Date: January 14th, 2011 03:49 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
I can't remember where you said this takes place, but if it's Chicago, then they should go see the stars in the UP. It's closer.

I will take you, for research purposes. Anytime. :)
robling_t From: robling_t Date: January 14th, 2011 04:15 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Well, the problem being that he has an excuse to drag Jason to Canada, which is that he has family in Toronto... ;)
huskyfriends From: huskyfriends Date: January 22nd, 2011 08:20 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Lovely. I adore getting into Trevor's head. I do find myself wondering how d Trevor is.
robling_t From: robling_t Date: January 22nd, 2011 05:51 pm (UTC) (permalink this entry)
He's unfolding gradually as Muse works me over, yeah...
6 responses | moved to respond?