((OOC: Please dun kill me, mods; I'll delete the other post since there's no replies or anything to it yet if you want me to. It's kind of abandoned for the time being...))
Abernathy (and Sonya, human)
It was atypical that Sonya got out of the house these days. Poor Julius had been in and out of the breeder's center lately with Morceau, their...
interesting little Kuhna, and it often fell to her to man the homestead. Their usual defender, Fluffy, was off making a name for himself in the war, and Humbling Eldrich Overlord and Cuddles had been missing ever since she'd sent them to go get groceries... how long ago had it been now? She mentally ran down the list of those capable of defending the farm. Fire and Ice? Their sons were in bed, sick with the sniffles. Kendall? At work. Edgar? Brooding on a mountaintop somewhere, she thought. Dashall Ranch was getting so desperate for protection that she was considering hiring a freelancer to do the job. She'd heard good things about a woman named Lucinda Lavalamp--but she would have, as she was good friends with Lucinda herself. And she didn't know if she could trust her judgement where her friends were concerned.
"Sonya? Are you awake in there?" The reedy voice of Abernathy snapped her out of her reverie. The Anala's face was all nose, and when he spoke, his voice matched. His tongue lashed in and out as he padded beside his old friend.
"Yeah, I'm here," she replied. "Just thinking about..."
"What?" he asked when she paused.
"Oh, just... you know. The state of things. The farm. All of that."
"Worried about Imogene?" Abernathy guessed, his tongue dashing quickly behind his ear.
"Oh, no no no," Sonya said. "I wouldn't have signed her up for that war if I didn't think she couldn't handle it." Sonya wound a spool of her hair around her finger. The gray streaks looked especially prominent today. The silvery strands running through Abernathy's own blue seemed to stand out as well.
Sonya sighed. Out of nowhere, she remarked, "We are getting old, my friend."
"And what of it?" Abernathy asked.
"I never thought that you were afraid of death."
"I'm not," Sonya said. "I'm more afraid of..." She paused to think.
Abernathy shot an urging nose in her direction.
"Well, I guess I could say... Imagine there was a fire, and there was a small child trapped in that fire. I suppose what I'm afraid of is being--being
weak, such that there wouldn't be anything I could do to help that child. You see?"
Abernathy tried to look wisely up at her, but his eyes blinked in befuddlement.
"I... see," he said slowly.
Trying to draw them away from the morbid subject, Abernathy said,
"Oh! We're passing the Old Time Cafe, aren't we? Let's stop in for some coffee, shall we? We've got all day to do our shopping."
"Excellent suggestion," Sonya agreed. "Let's grab ourselves some coffee and eclairs. Would you like to go find a place for us to sit?"
They entered the shop. Abernathy's claws scraped across the polished wood of the floor. He sprinted for the quiet sanctuary of the koi pond. Once, back when his joints had been a little less rusty, and the bright chocolate brown of his mistress' hair was untainted by the snow of time, he and she had met a charming young man here, with thick strong legs and a pair of hardy Terratops by his side. Ah, to be young again...
He was a bit surprised when he noticed someone already sitting next to the koi garden. A Palowockee. How curious.
"Excuse me?" Abernathy's voice cracked slightly.
"You're not saving a spot for anyone, are you?"