More than Bitsy's occasional happy screeches, Baba Violette's voice carried. The woman had iron lungs befitting a seasoned family matriarch. Nik had heard her from a few trailers over, where he'd been busying himself outside fixing shutters to his trailer's exterior. He'd called the place home long enough to know that the amount of light pollution that seeped inside in the morning was not acceptable. Not long term. On the short list of things he was truly finicky about, light in his sleeping space ranked rather high. It was fortunate that Lucia wasn't one of those unsettled by too much darnessk. That would have made for a hard, unpleasant adjustment for him, and cranky cats were never pleasant company.
"Sounds like you've been justly hen-pecked," he called, rounding into the corner between both trailers when his task was complete, sporting a thin smile in good humor. A hammer dangled loosely in one hand, a half-finished bottle of ale in the other. "Sar san?" Nikoloas thought his cousin looked a little put off. Whether it was the heat, the hour, or that rather uncomfortable chair he'd dropped himself into, he didn't presume to know.
Instead, his eyes went to the dropper in Orion's hand. "Hemlock? Should I plug my ears? My moonshine can't have been that bad." Nik repositioned a second chair with a hook of his foot, the legs drawing a fresh line in the dirt once moved. He took a seat. "Lu mentioned you kept her company a few times. Thanks for that. Didn't expect to be gone for so long."