The morning after, an unusual grogginess seemed to have befallen the household – all but Elsa. Abelard knew why Bobby would be tired. It was a wonder that Cainan hadn't spotted him coming or going in the dead of night, when he'd climbed out onto the balcony. He didn't need to deal with Cainan asking questions that were quite frankly reasonable. It was lucky for Abelard that they hadn't caught Bobby at it. Abelard had woken up rather groggy as well, given how his sleep had been interrupted by their young house guest. Cainan too seemed especially tired over breakfast, so much so that Abelard wondered if he'd managed to fall asleep again at all.
Whatever dreams were plaguing the young cat, he seemed to have been quite disturbed by them when Abelard caught him on the balcony. Though concerning, he also didn't wish to intrude on whatever was going on. And he certainly didn't wish to intrude on the Turkish Angora's past love life. It was none of his business, and it most certainly didn't interest him at all. It was as good as gossip to Abelard.
But even despite how tired they all seemed, that day had gone quite well. Cainan seemed to be getting into the swing of things, at least if Wendell's reports were to be believed. When the workday had come to an end, Abelard had asked the old groundskeeper about Cainan's work, if it had been adequate, and how much progress he was making.
And that was the routine they fell into quickly enough. Though not every day had something for Cainan to do all throughout, on the few days he had some bigger tasks, Abelard asked Wendell how he did before the two of them walked back to the funeral home together. When they returned home, Cainan usually lounged on the sofa in the living room, until Elsa asked him to help her with dinner. His sister seemed content enough to have the young cat around, which Abelard had been quite curious about. As long as she was fine with it, Abelard was too.
The remaining days of the week seemed to go by so quickly that before either of them knew it, it was Saturday. Saturday was a quiet day, and Cainan apparently hadn't had much to do either.
"We don't got an awful lot to do just yet," Wendell grunted as he and Abelard convened by the church's doorstep. The old tuxedo cat was dressed in his usual denim overalls over his button-up shirt. With his sleeves rolled up, Wendell's strong, but lean arms showed, the black fur speckled with streaks of silver. Perhaps it was just his imagination playing tricks on him, but Abelard thought the older cat might have more gray than normal today. He also looked quiet tired.
"I had the boy clean the windows. He's not the fastest, but at least he's thorough," Wendell continued in that deep, gruff voice of his. The black and white cat snorted. "He's staying with you, correct? Does he do anything around the house?"
"Mr. Wirth helps Elsa cook – that's about the extent of it," Abelard simply told Wendell, who snorted again. Despite being comfortable calling him by his first name, Abelard still chose to refer to Cainan in a more formal manner around others. It was more proper that way. "Why do you ask? Did he say something?"
"Well, I don't suppose you've seen him do proper work then. He likes being comfortable while he works…" It was clear by the look on his face that Wendell didn't approve of whatever Cainan did. Abelard shot him an inquisitive glance, at which point the older cat continued. "When he cleaned the headstones, he sat down. He looked like he may as well be on a picnic. When I had him cleaning the windows, he was almost laying down against the ladder… The boy looked like he may very well fall asleep. That and he usually tries to cut corners."
Remaining silent for a while, Abelard wasn't particularly surprised. He had seen Cainan lazing about the funeral home; he had slept days away while recovering after his injury and Abelard had started suspecting that had less to do with whatever medication Elsa gave him, and more to do with just the younger cat being lazy. He nodded.
"Hmmm… I suppose that isn't a surprise to me…" He turned his head and saw the young cat approaching from the small barn nearby. He sighed. "Well, as long as he gets the work done in a day, I suppose we cannot complain. But how is he doing overall?"
"Fine – just fine…" The tuxedo cat looked curiously at Abelard. The reverend raised an eyebrow. "Oh, nothing. Perhaps sometime you should be here to inspect his work – see him at work. He's a quick learner. You chose him well."
Abelard gave a loud scoff, which garnered a short, barking laugh from Wendell. "The Lord works in strange ways, Wendell. When you think he's ready, I think he'll make for a fair temporary replacement for you."
"Really now?" the black and white cat asked in surprise, his scruffy tail giving a flick. He even fixed Abelard with an almost suspicious look. "Do you only plan on keeping him around long enough to find someone else?"
"Those are not my plans," Abelard told him defensively. He shifted his weight from side to side momentarily. "As much as he may be willing to do this work, I have my doubts about his longevity. Cainan doesn't seem to-"
"Cainan?" Wendell chortled, though Abelard failed to see the humor in what he had said. To him, it was a serious matter. If Cainan suddenly decided to leave or change occupation in the small town, it would be up to him to find a replacement! "What happened to Mr. Wirth? I wouldn't have thought you'd get on a first name basis with the boy so quickly."
"Listen… He insists on being called by his first name – I just simply chose to comply with his demands." Arms crossed and a scowl on his face, Abelard made it very clear that he didn't want to defend or justify this choice regarding how Cainan was addressed. And on top of that, Abelard still remembered the look he'd gotten when he'd reverted to using a more formal manner of address. "Don't get it twisted. I'm sure he's told you the same, Mr. Wendell."
Snorting yet again, the older cat simply shrugged. "That he has. I just wouldn't have expected you to do it. You're always so prim and proper. Ah, there you are, kid. No need to show up tomorrow. As a matter of fact, just come by on Tuesday."
"Tuesday? Oh, that is more than fine by me." The white cat had looked exhausted when he joined the two, but now he was perking up. It seemed like this news had reinvigorated Cainan considerably. "Well, you have a good night, Wendell. I'll walk Father Arbogast home now – can't have him getting lost, can we?"
"No… No, we certainly can't," the tuxedo cat replied, looking especially amused when he saw the scowl on Abelard's face. "You two have a good night."
When they parted ways, Abelard could still hear Wendell chuckling. For once, it wasn't very dark out and Abelard hadn't bothered to light his lantern. As he walked side by side with Cainan, he shot the younger cat a look that only garnered a chuckle from him. "What's so funny?"
"Oh, you're not mad about me joking around, are you?" Cainan asked, a playful look on his white-furred face as the wind rustled his cheek fluff and the tufts on his ears. The young cat was clad in a button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up, and a pair of dark brown pants. For shoes, he had taken to wearing a pair of old boots that Abelard recognized to have once belonged to him. Cainan carried his jacket with him, having slung it over his shoulder. "I don't mean anything with it, I just like kidding around. You're man enough to take a joke, right?"
Scoffing, Abelard didn't choose to respond, he just continued by the younger cat's side without speaking. The two of them just continued in silence, until Cainan started humming to himself, though it wasn't the worst sound to break up the quiet. Abelard wasn't sure if the days were truly getting longer or if this was just a special case, somehow. The older cat glanced up at the darkening sky, the sun's last rays still visible on the western horizon, painting the sky a golden, orange that faded into purples and blues the further east Abelard looked.
"Say, Cainan… You were raised Christian… Why don't you join us for service tomorrow morning?" The question seemed to almost startle Cainan, who looked up at Abelard with a shocked look on his face, as though he were panicking.
"Uh… I'd rather not," he answered, his pale green eyes looking panicked and wide. Abelard raised an eyebrow and barely a second later, the white cat seemed to calm himself. "I mean… Everyone in town's going to be there, ain't they?"
"Most likely. Our congregation consists of most of the townsfolk… is that a problem?"
"Is that a problem?" the younger cat mimicked in an exasperated tone. "Come on, you saw how Mr. Lang was with me. I think it's safe to assume that I'm not too popular with anyone else who remembers me. And besides, I'd rather not turn your church into a war zone…"
"How noble…" Abelard shot him a look. Of course, he knew the young cat had a point, especially given what he had witnessed alone; not just Mr. Lang, but also Mr. Weaver out by Defiance General. That being said, Abelard didn't dare think anyone in Defiance would be outright hostile or confrontational towards Cainan – especially in church. "Well, suit yourself, Cainan, but I just thought it might do you some good to come join us and listen to the word of God."
The Turkish Angora didn't respond, he just glanced out at the nearby cornfields they passed. Abelard wasn't sure what it was, if he was just apprehensive because of the townsfolk or if there was some other factor he kept hidden that made him not want to attend. Whatever the case, Abelard chose not to pursue the subject any further for the time being. However, one thought did occur to him just then.
"Hold on, have you actually even set foot inside Old Peace since you got here?" he asked the younger cat, who looked up at him with a puzzled look on his face. When he didn't get a response, Abelard grunted, "The church…"
"Oh… Well, no, I can't say I have," he said casually, shrugging. He looked up at the sky above as they walked along the dirt road. "Wendell puts me to work outside. But I think I remember how it looks. The ceiling still blue?"
"You could always come inside and see for yourself," he told the younger cat, who was back to walking in a slouched manner, hands in his pockets. Abelard watched as he kicked a stone off the road and into the thicket of the nearby crops. "Maybe attending service might put your mind at ease. A congregation is meant to be a welcoming environment to every man, woman, and child. I can personally guarantee you that no one will treat you with hostility."
"Can you really? You know as well as I that I'm not popular in town." Cainan didn't appear upset about it, more so he seemed to be complacent with the fact at best. Abelard wasn't at all sure what to make of it. Did the young cat not want to be integrated with the community? If he were to stick around, surely he shouldn't try to make himself seem like such an outsider. Surely, it wouldn't do the young cat any favors at all. "And besides… I had enough religion growing up, I don't really need any more of it…"
Looking at the younger cat with unfiltered disapproval, Abelard scoffed. When their eyes met, Cainan hardly looked surprised at all. "So, you've just been out of touch with the Lord for… how long have you been by yourself again?"
"Fourteen years, I guess… But it's been so liberating, believe me," the white cat said, speaking in a bitter tone that didn't go unnoticed by Abelard. He couldn't help but notice how such a tone didn't suit the Cainan he'd grown to know over the past week – not even a little. The shorter cat wasn't looking at Abelard as he continued in that same tone, his face neutral. "All that pressure doesn't do no one any good. It's part of why-"
"Yes?"
"Nothing…" Cainan grunted. The Turkish Angora fell silent for the moment. Making it to the summit of a small hill from which they could see the funeral home, Abelard stopped. Cainan did as well, looking back at him with a puzzled expression.
"Let me tell you something, Cainan. And please, do not interrupt me." Abelard held up a hand, his slender index finger held up to signify for Cainan to be quiet. "Faith not only changed my life, but it also saved me. I owe everything that I am today to the Lord and his word. The Holy Bible was my salvation in my darkest hour, Cainan. There were days in my past where I wasn't sure I would even live to see another, days where arriving at the pearly gates of heaven itself seemed like mercy. But in those days, all I had was God and without that, I would not be here. Faith and belief can do wondrous things, Cainan. You may not see it, but it can give you strength when you most need it, it can mend your wounds and help you find your place in this world."
Turning to face Abelard, the white cat's face was still neutral. The two stared into each other's eyes in silence as a wind from the north rustled their fur and their clothes. Cainan was the first to avert his eyes towards the western horizon. The sun was climbing lower, and it would soon hide behind the western hills.
"Father Arbogast, while I respect that…" Abelard had to admit, the sincerity in Cainan's voice surprised him. He perked his ears up as much as he could, while he was wearing his hat. "Just… It's not for me. Religion and I don't mix. I don't need an old book to tell me what to think or what to do; I don't need to be manipulated by someone who lived thousands of years ago. I've had enough of that from real people."
The two of them stood in silence on the top of the small hill on the road, just staring at one another for a time. Abelard was at a loss for words. He didn't know how to quite go about it, but with what Cainan had told him, it sounded as though he hadn't had a good introduction to faith. Maybe he wasn't susceptible to it, or maybe….
"Cainan… faith isn't a tool to manipulate or deceive people. I do not know what you've experienced or who was involved, but if you'd allow me to, I'd like to show you the merits of faith." When Cainan said nothing, Abelard just watched him, before he continued on his way. The white cat followed along, but he didn't look at Abelard. "If you come with me to service tomorrow, allow me to properly introduce you to the principles of Christianity. It would be my honor to help you reconnect with your faith."
Cainan let out a derisive snort.
"Oh, of course, now that I've finally cut myself up, surely I'm going to-" The young cat had spoken in a harsh, sarcastic tone, but when their eyes had met, Cainan stopped. The white cat averted his gaze. "Sorry that was-…"
Still, Cainan didn't continue, nor did he say anything else as the two of them continued on their way back to the funeral home. Abelard too said nothing. Normally, he would have, but he could tell something wasn't quite right. Something was troubling Cainan, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
As they got closer to the funeral home, Abelard couldn't help but wonder what it was that troubled him so. Perhaps he ought to take it upon himself to restore Cainan's faith, to help him see the light, find hope and regain the sense of belonging that he knew his congregation felt.
The two of them spotted Elsa in the kitchen window, Abelard offering a wave, which she returned. He turned his attention back towards the shorter cat by his side as they stepped onto the front porch. It was quite strange to see Cainan this subdued, and it wasn't until they stepped onto the doorstep of the funeral home that Cainan turned to Abelard.
"Father Arbogast, look… I'm sorry, and I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't know if it's something I want. At least not yet… Right now, I just want to get settled and do my best with work…" Once he finished, Abelard was left in silence momentarily, staring down into those green eyes as the two of them stood there in the fading light.
"I see… I understand…" Abelard wasn't quite ready to let the topic die, but he didn't think it prudent or appropriate to pursue it for the time being. He'd rather just let this be it for the moment than make things worse between them again. He would not soon forget the time they spoke of Cainan's parents. As a matter of fact, they were a subject Abelard hadn't pursued since. "Well, be that as it may, when you change your mind, just please tell me. You're welcome in our congregation anytime you'd please."
As Abelard opened the door for the two, Cainan nodded quietly and stepped inside before the older cat. The two of them remained quiet as they removed their jackets and went their separate ways. Cainan greeted Elsa very briefly as she appeared in the foyer, before he made his way into the living room. Elsa leaned against the doorframe as she watched him leaving, then turned to her brother. "How was your day?"
"Quite fine. Just fine," he simply told her as he watched Cainan falling onto the couch and subsequently out of sight.
"Did something happen?" his sister asked in a low tone. He looked back at her, seeing her staring at him with those bright, blue eyes of hers. Elsa's face was so relaxed, neutral and Abelard knew she somehow managed to read him like an open book.
"It's… fine. Nothing. We just had a little talk on the way home," he told her in a hushed voice. Abelard glanced towards the living room and shook his head, before he removed his hat, hanging it on the coat tree. Abelard beckoned Elsa along, guiding her out the foyer, into the hall and up the stairs. As they climbed the steps, Abelard tried to think of what to tell her. He knew she shared his faith, though she wasn't by any means as devoted to it as he. Elsa had been raised with the teachings of God, much like Abelard had been.
Once the two of them made it upstairs into the study, Abelard walked to the three windows, silently glancing out for a moment while Elsa hung back by the doorway. "I might need a second opinion, Elsa. For you see, I spoke to Cainan on our way home… While it was nothing particularly bad, I learned a bit more about him, and I worry…"
"What about? What did he tell you, Abe?" Though her words didn't seem to be very remarkable at face value, Abelard knew Elsa well enough to know that she had her own worries. Abelard wasn't sure what her worries were exactly, but he knew he'd need to reassure her that it wasn't anything serious.
"Nothing too severe – Cainan simply told me a bit about his views on faith. I can tell he's had a share of bad experiences with the word of God. Question is…" Abelard paused and thought to himself for a moment. He turned to look at his sister, their eyes meeting. "Would it be overstepping if I were to attempt to restore his faith? I want to help him, Elsa."
The blonde cat had her arms crossed, leaning on the left side of the doorframe. She said nothing for a while and just as Abelard was starting to wonder if she was even going to, she sighed. "Well, Abelard, I don't know. I know it's been your duty to guide people since…"
Abelard averted his gaze and said nothing, waiting for her to continue. "But in this instance, maybe leave him be. You don't want to push him further away, do you? If he wants your guidance, he'll ask – I'm sure of it."
"I suppose so, Elsa." Abelard walked to one of the bookshelves by the wall, his blue eyes wandering over the mostly dark spines. Abelard reached for one of the tall shelves and pulled down a black volume with golden lines on the spine as well as a golden frame on the front with a golden cross within. He opened the bible and looked upon the pages, then back at Elsa. "Very well… I will not pursue it any further for now. Maybe I'll leave the boy alone for the time being."
Elsa walked up to Abelard and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know you mean well, Abe, but he doesn't need it right now. Everything in its time. He's just barely started walking normally. Speaking of, I should go check on him."
Abelard simply nodded and let her leave, for a moment looking down upon the book in his hands, his fingers grasping the smooth, dark volume. He knew most of these pages in and out, perhaps not word for word, but he most certainly knew their content. He knew what significance they held and when they might be best to use. Abelard's services were often times tailored around what went on in Defiance and the state at large. Putting the book back where it belonged, Abelard made his way on over to the windows yet again.
Glancing out at the darkening front yard, he wondered if perhaps some people were simply incompatible with faith, incapable of believing… but Abelard quickly dismissed that idea. Of course not – every person was capable of believing, it just all came down to whether they wanted to embrace the word and truth of God. Abelard left the study and made it to Cainan's bedroom. Even in his mind, as he thought of it as being Cainan's now, it felt so odd to not think of it as his own. It was this very bedroom he'd grown up in. What was in here had once been his. He hadn't set foot here in a while until Cainan came along. So many memories attached to this place…
The photos on the walls were the same as they had been since Abelard's teens; ones of Elsa, ones of their parents and a single picture of the four of them all together. He plucked the framed picture off the wall with a delicacy and gentleness that would rival the way his sister plucked and handled flowers. He held the small frame in his hands as he stared down at the four of them together. Elsa was so young at the time, and he was a young man – he'd been just thirteen when she was born. It had been a surprise to be sure, but Abelard hadn't minded. He'd looked after her and raised her more than their parents had, however.
Abelard closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head, before putting the photograph back where it belonged. Seeing the wall without it felt wrong. Wordlessly, Abelard made his way downstairs. He could smell food cooking in the kitchen already, but he hardly paid it any mind as he made his way out to the foyer. Slipping his hat and jacket back on, Abelard picked up the lantern by the door and lit it.
Steeping out into the cool evening air, Abelard closed the door and lit a cigarette as well, before he set his sights on the path that would take him back to the church. He made his way back the way he and Cainan had come from not too long ago. He'd barely been home at all today, but he felt compelled to go.
Abelard made his way to the small summit of the little hill on road, in front of the funeral home. He turned around and gazed upon his home as the wind swept over him, once more threatening to rip his hat from his head, but he held on. Standing there in the quickly fading light, Abelard held the lantern at his side, looking over the big house. That house had been many things to him; it had been his home all his life, but it had also felt like a prison, like a lonely tower where he'd been locked away; it had felt like an island when he'd been at his most vulnerable, all alone with no one else around.
Moving to the side of the road near the crops, Abelard sat down on the grass with a grunt, watching his home, holding the lantern by his side. The sky was a grayish blue by now, only darkening with every passing moment. The moon was out and the first, brightest stars were starting to show themselves already.
Abelard lost track of time, but sometime after he'd finished his cigarette, he eventually rose to his feet again. Instead of returning home, he turned and continued back towards the church. He arrived at the small site behind the church near the cornfields that bordered the trees that fenced in the area. The graves here were surrounded by similarly tall grass, though it had recently been mowed down, thankfully. It made it easier to find the different graves.
A single wide headstone stood among others, but this one had been placed with considerably more care than most; it stood so it lined up with the center of the church before it. Abelard removed his hat and glanced down at the stone, the writing just barely legible in the lantern's golden glow. Two names, a man and a woman – Arbogasts. They weren't the only Arbogasts buried here, but they were the ones that mattered the most to Abelard.
He crouched by the grave and put down his lantern nearby as he looked at the year.
1893… It had been so many years already… He closed his eyes and gently muttered a prayer under his breath. Even though so much time had passed and so many things had happened, it didn't stop hurting to think about his parents. Though their time together hadn't been as long as was often the case for parents and their children, Abelard still honored and respected their memory. He and Elsa didn't speak much of them to anyone, but he still remembered the early days after they had been united with the Lord.
As much as he had been sad about losing them too soon, Abelard had always been seeking comfort in the fact that he knew in his heart that they were with God up in Heaven. They had always been good, and they had raised Abelard to be the same. No way they hadn't entered the pearly gates of Heaven. Abelard knew they were waiting for him, knew how proud they would be of what he'd accomplished here. And then again…
Was the illegal business he and Elsa partook in something to be proud of? Abelard had long since come to terms with the fact that whenever his time came, he would own up to everything. However, God saw fit to judge his soul, Abelard knew he'd been a man of faith all his life and he had shepherded people towards his truth and grace. Abelard had always done his utmost to be the best version of himself he could be, but if his sins were enough to condemn him to the fires of Hell… so be it. Abelard wasn't a man who had many regrets, all things considered.
He let a hand stroke along the top of the headstone. It was made of a hard, cold stone that Abelard didn't know the name of, it was wide and low to the ground, a large ornate cross with a circle around it carved into the front. On either side of it, his parents' names were written alongside their birthdays and the year they had both passed away. He could tell Cainan had been at work here with how clean the stone was, the lettering clear and pristine, as though it had been carved just days ago. Abelard could appreciate how clean it was at least.
He sighed and picked up the lantern, before he rose to his feet with a grunt. He stared at the headstone in silence for a moment, before he turned around and left. Abelard wasn't going home yet, however. In the lantern's light, Abelard made his way up to the church where he unlocked the large door and stepped into the empty building. It was dark and quiet, only illuminated by the lantern, his footsteps echoing off the walls. Abelard didn't linger for too long as he found what he came for.
The church had no shortage on candles, and when Abelard made his way back out to his parents' grave, he carried a candleholder. It was made of shiny metal, the wide, round foot molded into a beautifully intricate floral design and the handle made to look like a long, swirling leaf. He'd taken the liberty of cutting the candle down to be short enough to not be in danger of being knocked over by the wind.
Pulling out one of his matches, Abelard lit the wick and waited for the flame to properly take hold before he set the candleholder down in front of the headstone. The small flame bathed the stone that bore his parents' names in a warm glow, as though heaven itself had sent a single beam of sunlight down to shine upon it.
As much as their absence hurt, as much as Abelard still missed his parents, he at the very least found the knowledge that they were finally at peace comforting. Having officiated quite a few weddings, Abelard of course knew of the idea that a wedded pair stayed together till death would separate them. But in the case of his and Elsa's parents, death had been but a brief separation before they had been reunited.
Closing his eyes one last time, Abelard rose to his feet to behold the sight for a moment, before turning back the way he came. He knew he ought to personally visit his parents' grave more often – he ought to bring Elsa along; she didn't often leave the house, and he knew why, but… surely seeing their parents' grave would be good for her now and again. But he wasn't going to force her, if she didn't feel comfortable. Abelard had sworn to himself never to get in the way of her happiness – not again.
That wasn't to speak of the emptiness Abelard always felt whenever he left their grave. Even as he made his way down the road to his home, he remembered days past of walking home from church with his parents; holding his mother's hand as a small boy, often times humming songs they'd sung in church that day. Abelard still remembered the way holidays like Easter and Christmas were the most special. He didn't often think about these things, but it was one of the things seeing his parents' grave did to him. It was as if the floodgates for old memories were flung open anytime he gazed upon the stone that marked their final resting place.
But all the same, Abelard knew not to get too attached to the stone. He knew of those whose lives had been turned upside down by a death. He had witnessed lovers pining for the ones they lost, withering away by their grave sites day after day, forgetting to take care of themselves at all; Abelard had known of others who simply lost the will to live after losing someone. That wasn't even mentioning the rare cases of parents having to attend the funerals of their children. That in particular was a type of funeral Abelard wished he didn't have to oversee. But as was his sworn duty, he would speak the words of the Lord that would send the deceased on their way into the afterlife where they'd be judged.
Abelard knew some of the extreme cases to be a rarity, but he had witnessed some of them. But of course, he had no one left in his life that he cared about as much as he did his parents – not outside of Elsa. For years now, she had been all he had. And while he got along well with the townsfolk of Defiance, none of them were as special to him as her. Even now as a grown, married woman who had seen the horrors of war, he still thought of her as his baby sister, the little girl who needed protecting; the little girl he'd refused to allow to become a nurse for the longest time; the little girl who was the last tangible remnant of his parents.
Even when Abelard arrived back home, and she greeted him, he couldn't help but see her this way. She said nothing as he closed the door behind him, but Abelard knew that it all showed on his face. Elsa remained silent as she stood by him, putting a hand on his shoulder – a comforting gesture. Abelard simply nodded and followed her out into the kitchen where he saw Cainan by the sink washing potatoes.
"Ah, did you have a nice walk?" the white cat asked, looking over his shoulder, a smile on his face. The genuineness of it took Abelard by surprise, but he returned it with a small nod. Abelard sat down by the dining table, rubbing his face momentarily, before he ran his left hand through the fur on his head. Abelard felt drained, strangely exhausted as he sat there, but when he saw Cainan still looking at him with those bright, pale-green eyes, he averted his gaze.
"It was perfectly pleasant," was all Abelard could think to say after far too long. When he looked up, the Turkish Angora had returned to the task at hand, though his tufted ears perked up when he was addressed. Abelard wasn't left alone for long as Bobby soon made an appearance, joining him by the dining table.
The heavyset younger cat didn't seem to be ignorant to Abelard's subdued mood, casting a single inquisitive glance at him, but saying nothing. For a good long while, the kitchen was left in complete silence as Bobby made tea for the two of them. Abelard didn't know if it was a British thing, but tea seemed to be Bobby's remedy for most things in life. In general, tea had been one of those things that had improved significantly since he and Elsa moved in.
Though he was often at odds with Bobby over various matters, he had to admit that at this moment in time, sitting down with his brother-in-law to drink tea and play cards while Elsa and Cainan were cooking nearby was rather nice. No one exchanged a lot of words – the most was the occasional smalltalk between his sister and Cainan, as the two of them prepared dinner. But Abelard liked it – it was peaceful, and he knew that Elsa likewise didn't mind silence. The four of them together in the same room without the need to talk much felt strangely idyllic. As Abelard glanced around at the three of them, he couldn't help but feel utterly at peace with everything in the world; even with his worries; even the small void in his chest that he'd been reminded of tonight.