Page 109 of Remnants: Disruption
Numbly, I step forward and slide into one of the island stools.
“I’m Trish,” Trish says, offering her hand. “Short for Ontrish.”
I take her hand. “I’m Arya.”
“We know,” Trish says, a warm grin on her lupine face.
Unlike Marla, Trish looks more wolfish, though it might just be differences in their species. Her fur is darker, with a messy bob where Marla’s reddish mane is long and straight.
“Did she flirt with you, dear?” Trish asks, giving me a piercing look. “I’ve got to know how many jalapeños I put in her food tonight.”
“You wouldn’t,” Marla hisses, and I glance over to see her dangling Rey by the ankles.
The child seems to enjoy this because she’s giggling like it’s the funniest thing ever.
“She didn’t–” I begin, but Trish pins me with a terrifying mom-glare.
Which is funny, because I’ve never had a mom to glare at me. So, it must just be an evolutionary thing.
“You’re a platinum blonde bombshell, of course she did.”
“She did, yeah,” I say quickly.
“Iago,” Marla hisses, and I simply shrug.
“You led the poor girl on,” Trish says, flicking a perfectly manicured eyebrow at her wife.
“It’s actually not the first time this week,” I offer, and both women turn to look at me. “But at least Marla turned out to be gay.”
“Oh, honey,” Trish says, and the way she says it sounds genuinely compassionate–not pitying. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll dish out dinner.”
“You don’t–” I start, but Marla catches my eye, shaking her head emphatically.
“What’s for dinner–” A masculine voice trails from the stairs behind me but cuts off as footsteps hit the bottom step.
I turn in the seat and see a male Vultox. Or, at least, I assume male given the voice and general features. He looks a lot more foxlike, which only further makes him look like a predatory creature.
“Oh, shit,” he grunts, and Trish hisses.
“Language, Ty.”
“Sorry, Trish,” he says, bowing his head. “I didn’t realize we had company.”
“Your sister found a stray,” Trish says, pushing a plate of food onto the table beside me. “Take that to the table, dear.”
I glance over to where she’s gesturing and realize I’d missed a large dining table in the far corner of the kitchen. I suppose the sight of a loving family had distracted me.
Dutifully, I make my way to the table, taking the seat furthest from the others. Trish and Marla sit across from each other, with Rey being slotted in the highchair at the end.
Ty takes the chair beside Marla, sitting closest to me at the six-chair table.
“Now,” Trish begins, putting a plate of cut up food in front of the child. “Tell us why you have beef with Bloody Mary.”
Chapter 43
Familiarity
November 5th, 1030 A.D., Afternoon
