03-02-2020, 01:16 PM
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While he stubbornly turned down every offer to live with, or rather haunt Selby and Moth in the suburban home the two shared, Beck still tended to loiter, watching as his second chance at siblings developed from squirming bundles of mewling fur, worming and struggling toward a mother's swollen breast -- or breasts, in this case -- to tottering kittens, scampering underfoot and upturning half of his disfigured mouth into a crooked smile.
He still needed to work on memorizing the names and developing interests and preferred meals of his five new siblings, stretching himself thin like a five-ended tug-o-war to cater to their needs, to take the stress from Moth and Selby, shouldering it instead. So far, Atticus and Quentin hadn't yet explored much outside their front yard, Heathcliff didn't like loud noises or crowds and spoke with solemn politeness unexpected of his age, Alice hardly allowed her twisted leg to hamper her curiosity and energy at all, and Ivan... Ivan was quite skittish. Unsure of himself. Contemplative. But still enamored with discovery; wonderstruck and teething.
Beck blinked at the startled grasshopper's flight from tiny claws, his head pivoting to watch it cross his path and disappear into wintry grasses. He looked back at its predator, offering a crooked grin to the soot-colored kitten. "Hi, Ivan," he rasped, forcing his hoarse and grating breath to be gentle, "Sorry about your grasshopper."
Settling onto bony haunches, the boy glanced up to the clouded sky, dark fur disturbed by the swelling breeze. "Did you have any plans? 'Cause I could take you out to learn how to hunt and stuff if you want. Don't think Selby -- er, your dad would mind," Beck reasoned, notched ear flicking as his lifeless gaze returned to Ivan, passing over his similarily scrawny frame. Gnawing on his intact cheek, he shrugged. "Don't have to. We could find something else to do." Like pranks. Or games. Or simply sitting beside him and letting Ivan wander around town. A tour would be fun. Anything would be fun. Boredom clawed at his mind just as much as it did to Ivan's.
He still needed to work on memorizing the names and developing interests and preferred meals of his five new siblings, stretching himself thin like a five-ended tug-o-war to cater to their needs, to take the stress from Moth and Selby, shouldering it instead. So far, Atticus and Quentin hadn't yet explored much outside their front yard, Heathcliff didn't like loud noises or crowds and spoke with solemn politeness unexpected of his age, Alice hardly allowed her twisted leg to hamper her curiosity and energy at all, and Ivan... Ivan was quite skittish. Unsure of himself. Contemplative. But still enamored with discovery; wonderstruck and teething.
Beck blinked at the startled grasshopper's flight from tiny claws, his head pivoting to watch it cross his path and disappear into wintry grasses. He looked back at its predator, offering a crooked grin to the soot-colored kitten. "Hi, Ivan," he rasped, forcing his hoarse and grating breath to be gentle, "Sorry about your grasshopper."
Settling onto bony haunches, the boy glanced up to the clouded sky, dark fur disturbed by the swelling breeze. "Did you have any plans? 'Cause I could take you out to learn how to hunt and stuff if you want. Don't think Selby -- er, your dad would mind," Beck reasoned, notched ear flicking as his lifeless gaze returned to Ivan, passing over his similarily scrawny frame. Gnawing on his intact cheek, he shrugged. "Don't have to. We could find something else to do." Like pranks. Or games. Or simply sitting beside him and letting Ivan wander around town. A tour would be fun. Anything would be fun. Boredom clawed at his mind just as much as it did to Ivan's.