As Felicia drove off, Horus waved goodbye. His hand was exposed, the cool morning air resting against his otherwise insulated skin.
She had ended up asking him to do something anyway, apparently unable to completely banish her worries for him.
It was a nice change of pace, someone having the wherewithal to actually worry about him.
As she drove away, he heard his quarry whimpering inside the house. Bacon was, according to Felicia, a Saint Bernard. Easily half her height at the shoulder, the large canine was absolutely terrified of him.
He should probably take his armor off to appear like less of an apex predator. And so he did. His cataphractii plates were stacked neatly against the side of Felicia's house, and he approached Bacon in his bodyglove.
The dog was, naturally, no less existentially terrified of him.
It felt wrong to do so, but he reached out with his mind to soothe the scared creature. Fear and self-preservation instinct rolled off of it in waves, something that Horus quickly wrapped up in comfort and assurance.
Bacon was still inside the house, though, and made no move to leave. Even despite his terror being assuaged with calming warp energies, the dog had no misgivings about staying as far from Horus as he could.
He sighed, sitting down in the grass and crossing his legs. If he could not go to the dog, then he may as well just let it come to him. Closing his eyes, he reached into the warp to find its currents and eddies as passive as before.
The emotions of Earth were so…stable. People were not constantly forced from one high to a new low, back and forth. They went through life almost…completely unified in a middle ground. What had changed between his time and this one?
Such questions, however, really had no place here. He instead looked into Felicia's house, looking over the million and one little energies that she had unintentionally filled the place with. Small fragments of her love and care for the cottage had bloomed in every corner. Each piece of silverware held an emotion, every furniture item a memory.
It was, again, a unique beauty he had never really experienced in his time under his father's rule. Or under the yoke of chaos.
Bacon—and what a unique name it was—had calmed significantly, the roiling mass of fear that was his mind had calmed. Instead of a frothing pit of terror and mistrust, he was now a spiky ball of anxiety. He did not know what to do.
So Horus dreamed up a solution. Most beasts, regardless of their degree of intelligence, were attracted to food. And food he would obtain. He reached out with his mind into a distant forest, finding a small herd of four-legged herbivores. Smaller than the domesticated bovines—he really needed to learn that species name—and most likely faster, he approached the side of his house and almost retrieved his mace.
I am getting food, not blood splatters. He reminded himself. He chuckled as he set off with only his bare hands and a bodyglove to protect him. If only Lion could see him now…
Setting off at a jog, his covered feet padded against the ground near soundlessly.
Felicia wiped her forehead of sweat as the last of her canned goods were loaded into the store. She'd spent a good portion of the day just loading the stuff out of her truck. Daniel McCintyre was a a happy, pot bellied irishman who had a laugh deep enough to rattle bones.
Or, well, she used to think that. Then she met Horus.
He owned the town's department store, where they sold just about everything. They even had an in-house pharmacy. Food, stamps, lumber, you name it, it was probably in his store.
"Thanks again, Felicia." Daniel said, slapping a hand on one of the pallets of food she'd just unloaded. "This'll keep me going for the next couple o' months. Say, how's about you come on in? Angela just finished a batch of rolls, I reckon."
Part of her wanted to stay. Angela, Daniel's wife, was a spectacular baker and confectioner.
"I'm sorry, Daniel." She replied with a grin as she turned around to close her truck's trailer. "Bacon gets so worried when I'm away too long, and normally I give him a day's extra love before I go." She was, of course, lying through her teeth with no shame. Really, she just hoped that Bacon hadn't bitten Horus or something. That dog was such a wuss.
"Ah, well, you're a busy gal with that farm." Daniel grinned. "Wouldn't want to keep you. Ah!" He suddenly buried his hand in his pocket, fishing for something. He pulled out a small brass object, tossing it to her.
Catching it easily, she realized it was a key. Glinting in the sunlight, she looked at it then at Daniel. An eyebrow rose.
"Key to the back room. If you're ever in need of something and we're closed, you just come on by and grab something, you hear?"
She felt her heart skip a beat at the kind gesture, the sting of tears in her eyes barely held at bay.
"Th…thank you Daniel." She had known the man ever since she moved out here, and he'd always been nothing but kind. Daniel just grinned.
"No problem. Now, before you head out, anything else I can do for y'a?" The image of Horus spending the the rest of the summer in his armor came to mind.
Comfortable though it may be, she'd be damned before letting him rot inside that suit.
"How much cloth do you have on hand?" She asked. Daniel raised an eyebrow, but answered nonetheless.
"Well, more than you can use, I'll say. What do you need it for? Tablecloth? Curtains?"
"Clothes, actually. I've been wanting to make myself some l, and I figured there'd be no better time to learn than when I'm young." A little white lie, but certainly one that wouldn't hurt him.
"Sounds good!" Daniel beckoned her to follow him. Walking into the store, she was met with the smell of those freshly baked goods that Daniel had been talking about. "Feel free to grab yourself a roll before you leave. Cloth and fabric is on the right, at the back. If you need anything else, just let me know. I'm gonna go write your check."
"Thanks!" Felicia cried. Quickly, she made her way to the back to find what was available. Long rolls of soft, patterned fabric. Likely cotton of some kind. She could see lengths of heavier duty fabric, almost like tarpaulin.
"Hmm." She felt each of the fabrics, eventually going for one that was a simple grey cloth, soft enough to the touch that she felt it wouldn't bother him.
Even if he didn't wear it, at least she'd have gained a skill. She had a feeling he would, though. Even if he was a space-superhuman, he was still a man.
And men were so simple. Give 'em some food, some work, and a dog and they were right as rain.
At least, if papa was to be believed. He hadn't been wrong yet.
Quickly, she cut a dozen feet of strong fabric and left a couple dozen bucks on the cash register. She heaved the cloth out to her truck, the heavy duty material slamming into the bed.
"Alrighty, Felicia." Daniel came out of the store with a letter and a scrunched look of disappointment. "When I said grab what you need, I meant take it. Angela would have my head if she found out I let you pay for that fabric."
"Bu-"
"No buts! Those belong on chairs, not in conversation." The envelope was placed into her hand, and he looked somehow even more disappointed. "Now you get goin' before I empty the register on you as payback."
She knew he wouldn't, but climbed into her pickup truck anyways.
"Thanks, Daniel!" She cried as she shut the door. A muted reply and a wave in the mirror came back, and she drove home.