Chapter 5/Life is a Ball of Yarn...with a Cat Nearby
Bog pauses his movements as he steps into his living room before snickering as Marianne huffs and turns her head away from him. He resumes toweling his wet hair and moves to stand beside her.
"I take it that you're still mad at me," Bog comments.
The answer is clear when the woman-turned-llama turns off the tv and places the remote underneath her as she shifts away from him. Prim grunts in annoyance at the blank screen on the television before standing and exiting through the llama door.
"It was for your own good," Bog insists.
"My own good?! That's the best you can come up with?!" Marianne growls, standing up to glare at the man face-to-face. "I was manhandled! Restrained! Sheared!"
It takes all his strength not to laugh at her dramatics. Not that he was laughing two days ago when Marianne had emptied a lot of the contents of her stomach onto him before the others had managed to restrain her with muscles and ropes. He still hasn't heard from Beaks, who was missing by the time they finished shearing Marianne. Something that probably saved the man's life with how furious everyone was with how he handled the delicate matter.
"It wouldn't have been that bad if you had just allowed me to shear you without fuss," Bog points out.
"Just because you like walking around naked, doesn't mean that I do," Marianne huffs.
"I do not walk around naked!" Bog argues, his face red as he checks to make sure the towel wrapped around his waist is still in place. "And you're not naked either! You still have over an inch of hair covering you, as a sheared llama is supposed to have."
"A sheared llama. I'm human!" Marianne reminds loudly.
"Not at the moment, you're not. At the moment, you're a llama who has a concussion and multiple injuries, and a very worrying memory loss. Now I understand why you're upset and you do have the right to be," Bog starts calmly.
"Damn right, I do!" Marianne agrees.
"But that doesn't change the matter that it had to be done," Bog continues. "Not only is it going to start warming up around here but with how much fiber we sheared from you, your thick coat was probably aggravating your injuries and could have caused an infection. You can't deny that you're feeling better without all that weight pulling on you."
"Where are you going anyway? You usually don't take a shower until after dinner and it's only the afternoon," Marianne points out, laying down with her back turned to him.
Bog shakes his head in amusement at the abrupt change in subject. Now he knows what his mother feels like when dealing with him.
"I need to check the property line to make sure all the fencing is alright and to make sure the predator deterrents are still in place and working properly," Bog explains. "I usually do that every other day but I didn't want to leave before Nochas' prospective new owners came, in case I missed them."
"And you're going like that?" Marianne questions skeptically, eyeing the towel around his waist.
"No. I'm going like this," Bog answers, smirking as he lets the towel drop and cackling at her shriek.
Letting his magic flow through him, it's only seconds before Bog's forepaws touch the ground and he shakes himself to ruffle his fur. The sensation of being in his wolf form is as wonderful as always. Not even the glaring amber eyes can diminish the bliss.
A scent catches his attention and he takes a few sniffs of the air before cocking his head as he looks at Marianne.
"You smell strange," Bog comments.
"I smell strange? You're the one who stinks. That shower obviously didn't do any good," Marianne scoffs.
"I wasn't trying to be insulting!" Bog defends quickly, tucking his tail and lowering his head. "There's just something odd about the way you smell, not like a llama and not like a human. It's strange. I'll figure it out when I get back. I should only be gone a few hours at most, so don't cause any trouble."
"Hey, BK," Stuff starts as she walks through the hallway door. "Oh. Nevermind. I'll tell you when you get back."
"What's wrong?" Bog asks.
"Nothing's wrong. Just wanted to let you know that Beatrice just called. She wanted to know what Beaks did that made him show up a week early to her place," Stuff informs. "I told her that he has a way with words and at this rate, she better not count on having any nieces or nephews."
Aura hums as she ignites the gathered branches with a flick of her wrist. It's been such a long time since they've done something like this. Modern times created such an easier life than the time she grew up in but there's nothing like taking time to reconnect with nature. The rising moon, the cool evening air, the smell of pine, moss, and aged forest debris, the soft tinkling of a nearby stream. How relaxing and romantic...or it would be if not for her grumpy companion.
"This would have been so much easier if we rented a car," Ignatius complains.
"Not as easy as you think," Aura counters. "Besides, we've lived centuries before automobiles were invented and we walked every then."
"That was then and this is now. We probably would have found a more recent trail by now if we had rented a car, especially since we had to deal with all that delay," Ignatius argues, swishing the vial in his hand before adding another ingredient.
Aura rolls her eyes before returning her attention to placing their caught meal over the newborn campfire. She understood his frustration but that doesn't mean she'll change her mind. After all, she was the one with experience in tracking magic. Slow and steady is the best course of action.
She only hopes that finding Marianne doesn't take the same length of time it took her to find Ignatius.
"It couldn't be helped. It's not the airport's fault that they hadn't had an available seat on the flight we needed when we needed it and it was only right to inform the Flints and the police about what had to be done," Aura comments.
"Yes, it's not the airport's fault, even though that set us back a full day," Ignatius starts with a mutter. "And yes, we did need to tell the police. But! Talking to the Flints nearly gave me a migraine headache with how much is actually messed up in that family! Passing off the girl's obliviousness to her best friend's feelings was one thing but the fact that both father, daughter, and said best friend were completely blind to the fact that what happened last week to Marianne was only the latest in what that cad has done to her for years is inexcusable! All their stories of how she used to be and not one of them noticed that her changed behavior came about at the same time she started dating him. How can someone go from being such a tight-knit family person to refusing to even talk to their family in such a short time and they're not suspicious in the least?! I mean, I can understand if they've had previous relationship issues with her but they've all said that Marianne was so close to each of them until that fateful day she just stopped all communications with them. They've should've been a little suspicious!"
This time, Aura sighs. She definitely understands his frustration. She's repeatedly wondered about that herself since she talked to the Flint family yesterday morning.
Just a simple visit to inform them that she couldn't search out the missing woman magically and needed to search physically had resulted in far more than she expected when it became obvious that the thief had been stealing much more than just a potion. A few curious contradictions alerted both magic workers to something being amiss and a few delicately-phrased questions had revealed two years of lies being told by Roland Darling.
"I know but at least they're trying to find out the truth now," Aura murmurs.
"After two years," Ignatius snorts before yelping when his potion explodes. "So much for that. If it is another magic worker causing the tracking magic to fail, then they're still around her."
"We should reach the crash site by early morning if we set out before dawn and then it should be much easier to track her. That's if that's when the magic activated," Arua adds.
"We could have just driven to the crash site and started from there in the first place," Ignatius mutters.
"And if that's not when the magic activated? How then will we be able to track the magic if we don't even know what it is?" Aura points out, smirking as the warlock pouts. "No. It's much better for us to follow Marianne's trail from the moment she was dusted with that potion than to miss the moment it took effect and not find her at all. As it is, the magic's lingering essence is faint enough and a few more days might erase it entirely."
"It would be much faster if we could at least walk on two long legs instead of four short legs," Ignatius sighs, waving off the reply. "I know, I know. Our shapeshift forms can smell the magical traces much better than our human forms. Not that I have anything against being a cat, especially since I spent a century as being nothing else, but cats just have such short legs for such a long journey in such a short amount of time."
"Such dramatics," Aura teases.
"You wouldn't have me any other way, mia inamorata," Ignatius purrs into her ear before kissing the spot right behind it, smirking at her hitched breath.
Poking her head through the hallway door, Marianne checks if the coast is clear before pulling her head back in and moving to her intended target. It's not her fault. It really isn't. She's just bored. Incredibly bored, actually.
Thanks to that medicine BK has been giving her, she's been feeling so much better than she was three days ago. Her headache was mostly gone throughout the day, her muscles had apparently been sore and now they no longer were, and her wounds were no longer feeling raw. And as reluctant as she was to admit it to certain individuals, her recent haircut had made a world of difference.
So, yes, it's not her fault.
Prim makes a noise as she manipulates the doorknob with her mouth and she pauses a moment to glare at him with her ears pinned backward, smirking when he turns his attention back to the playing cartoon. Marianne hums happily before opening the door blocking the fulfillment of her curiosity.
The woodsy smell of BK instantly floods her senses, much stronger than what's in the living room, and she gingerly steps into the darker bedroom. She eyes the thick curtains over the windows before moving to the middle of the dimly illuminated room.
Huh. Not quite what she was expecting.
The large bed tucked into the corner of the wood-paneled room is perfectly understandable considering his height but it's round. A round bed that's been meticulously made, the green gold-leaf-patterned blanket so smooth and taunt you could probably bounce a coin off of it. Even the shockingly high number of pillows in various sizes look neatly perfect. And is that a teddy bear nestled between them?
"Cute," Marianne mutters. "Now, let's see what mister big bad wolf hides in his drawers."
It's a task that's easier said than done and not because of the difficulty of unlatching the hooks with her mouth.
The first set of doors she opens along the long wall is not a closet that contains clothes, just lots and lots of yarn stacked neatly and color-coordinated on the vast amount of shelving in the large walk-in space. There were a few spots not dedicated to some kind of fiber or another but it obviously appeared that the items were connected to the yarn in some way.
The second set of doors reveal BK's private bathroom, something she knew he had since she could hear him singing whenever he took his showers. A fact that she had long decided to wait until after he helped her return to being human before revealing that she knew.
Slightly brighter than the bedroom with its tan-colored walls and small uncovered frosted windows, the bathroom is also fastidiously kept. Not even the faintest drop of water from his not-too-recent-but-still-recent-enough shower is left on the shower floor.
Curious.
Even more curious is when she opens the third set of doors to finally reveal a smaller walk-in closet with clothing racks, a few open shelves, and several drawers.
"Okay. I'm beginning to suspect a pattern," Marianne snickers, eyeing the shirts and jackets organized by use, color, and length.
Pulling the drawers open don't reveal anything other than perfectly folded and organized clothes and Marianne huffs before backing out of the closet. How can she tease him about something if all that she's finding are things that are strangely setting her at ease? Why would seeing everything so neat and tidy make her happy?!
Stomping her right front foot in frustration at the confusion caused by her memory loss, she huffs once more before shaking her head and turning her attention to the door on the wall opposite the door leading to the living room. Maybe something is in there. Anything is better than having to think about what would happen if she never gets her memories back.
After all, just because Thang, BK, and the others don't mind her being around now, doesn't mean that they'll keep tolerating her once she turns back human. What would she even be able to do if she never remembers what she did before? Cleaning? It's not like they need a housekeeper or anything since Thang had mentioned that everyone took care of their own sections of the large house and worked together to clean the shared areas.
She doubted she'd be any help working on the farm itself. Not only did they not need any help but she's quite sure that she hasn't worked with animals before. At least it doesn't seem like it since nothing seems familiar.
And where would she even stay? Thang hadn't mentioned an unoccupied bedroom during his verbal tour of the main house and the two smaller cabins. The main house had six people already, Brutus' cabin is full with his growing family, and just because Thug and Nicholas will be absent for the next few months, it wouldn't feel right to stay in their cabin either.
Shaking her head once more in a physical attempt to remove the useless thoughts from her head, Marianne reaches for the latch on the wooden door before pausing slightly at the strange feeling emanating from it.
That's weird.
"It's just a door," Marianne huffs in annoyance at herself, grabbing the latch with her mouth.
The effect is instantaneous and she lets out a loud "mwa" at the shock coursing through her. Large gentle hands quickly tug her mouth away from the hot iron and they stroke her head before prying her muzzle open to check for damages.
"Are you alright, Marianne?" BK asks.
"What was that?!" Marianne cries instead.
"I...I don't know," BK mutters, brushing away the fallen tears from her eyes. "Never happened to anyone else before. Maybe it's because you've been spelled. Or maybe it's because I'm a terrible druid. I'm so sorry, Marianne. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, it just shocked me more than anything," Marianne sniffs. "What are you doing back so soon? I thought you said that you were checking your property line."
"And I did. I checked the whole property line and returned home to find an intruder in my bedroom," BK replies with amusement.
"I wasn't doing anything! I was just...just, you know...exploring the house," Marianne defends.
"Yes, exploring the house," BK agrees amiably before smirking. "Starting with my room, of course, to find out what mister big bad wolf hides in his drawers."
"Just how long have you been here?" Marianne growls suspiciously.
"I saw you open my door and I've been sitting on the bed since you discovered my craft closet," BK chuckles.
Marianne turns her attention to the bed and flicks an ear absentmindedly as the crumpled blanket confirms his words. Just how did he manage to walk into the room and sit there for so long and she not hear or notice him?
He must have still been in wolf form. That would account for how he managed to disturb the middle without really affecting the edge of the bed.
Wait. If he was in his wolf form, then that means...
Her eyes automatically return to BK before looking away abruptly at his lack of clothing. It's not like she can harass him again about his apparent delight in walking around naked since they are in his room. That didn't make it any better, though. She didn't even know if she was in a committed relationship or not and he had no business to look so good!
"This is my workshop, by the way," BK comments, opening the door. "All my herbs and such are in here."
The smell of dirt and herbs, both fresh and dried, floods her senses and Marianne cautiously peeks her head into the room. Whereas BK's dimly-lited room was sparse and had few decorations, the new room was filled with tables and fully packed shelves with very little free space to be seen in the bright-but-not-too-bright light. Clay dishes and glass jars cover most of the shelves and several woven baskets of various sizes are scattered throughout the room. Bundles of herbs hang from the rafters, many small potted plants cover three long tables, and one shelving unit was more of a five-tiered planter with plants growing within the boxes taking the whole length of each shelf. Even the tables double as a growing platform with small to medium-sized mushrooms growing beneath most of them.
"No flooring?" Marianne notes, looking at the packed dirt.
"It's much easier than having to worry about a mess," BK laughs. "Plus, it's better for the mushrooms since the dirt doesn't dry the room out like putting a floor in would and it keeps me from having to deal with unwanted growth. It's the same reason the outer stone wall is exposed unlike the rest of the house."
"Unwanted growth?" Marianne repeats.
"Mushrooms are tenacious growers and can cause a lot of problems if left unchecked, especially some of these ones since they're not native to this area. I infused my tables with an incantation to keep them from spreading and thankfully that had actually worked or else my whole workshop would be overrun," BK chuckles.
Marianne hums softly at the self-decrepitation she can hear in his voice and her ears fold backward. That was another thing she's overheard in the past three days. No matter who he was talking to, BK always put himself down whenever he talked about his magic, and it always drove a sword through her heart to hear. Whether it's because of him or because it has something to do with her forgotten past, she couldn't tell, but it hurt all the same.
"Why do you do that?" Marianne mutters.
"Do what?" BK questions.
"Put yourself down. Thang said you're a great druid. That you've always helped them whenever they needed help. Even when it wasn't exactly legal," Marianne adds with a playful tone. "He told me that first morning after you realized that I was human that he is fully confident that you'll be able to return me to being human."
"Thang is an optimist," BK sighs. "I've tried dozens of incantations to help you and none of them have worked. If my dad or one of my brothers were here, you'd already be human again and able to get the medical attention you need for your memory loss."
"Well, they're not here," Marianne huffs. "You're here, you're good enough, and if you don't stop criticizing yourself, I'm gonna start biting. I do have so many available options right now."
If only llamas could cackle.
She settles for a humming laugh as BK's face turns red after she pointedly looks to his exposed self. The view only lasts for a minute before the naked druid rushes to his private bathroom and shuts the door between them.