Who: Raksha & Izzy When: 8am 3/26/08 ((backdated!)) Where: Papi's house What: One of many "morning afters", in which Raksha meets Izzy's grandmother over breakfast Status: Complete, but the day's adventures will be continued in another thread Rating: PG-13
Adàn Santino, more commonly known as “Papi” these days, stared at his great-granddaughter. And his wife, but she had nothing more to offer aside from waving a wooden spoon in the air and muttering in Spanish. She had not been happy to find Eilis up at four in the morning, drinking tea and muttering to herself. He rubbed his temples. “Alright,” he muttered. “Alright, alright. I’ll go get them up.” By them, he meant his grandson and his grandson’s boyfriend. He sighed and stalked to the bedroom his grandson had chosen, and instead of rapping his knuckles on the door, pushed it open. He saw his grandson curled up against the boyfriend, asleep under the blankets, and he hoped, fully clothed. He cleared his throat, aware that Izzy had a tendency to be a light sleeper, and if that didn’t wake them up, he’d revert to flicking water at them. Or dumping a bucket of the stuff on them, whichever worked best...
Although a soft sound, the throat clearing intruded on his sleep. Raksha slept deeply to a point, but instincts were not dulled if someone he didn't trust was in the vicinity. He kept his eyes closed, taking stock through other senses. Izzy was still curled against him, warm and muscles lax in sleep. The direction of the sound gave him a rough idea of where Papi was and amusement trickled through his thoughts at the mood he sensed from the man. The door was open and the smell of food cooking drifted up from the kitchen. Yellow eyes, not at all fogged by sleep opened, flicking a glance at the older male watching them before he nudged Izzy in an attempt to wake him, unconcerned with what Papi did or did not see.
Izzy groaned as Raksha nudged him awake, rolling over onto his back before trying to curl back up again, muttering in Spanish. Papi crossed his arms, noting that Raksha was awake, and Izzy was getting there. “Israel Alex, I’m counting to three, and then I’m getting a bowl of water and I’m dumping it on you.”
Izzy groaned again and sat up. “Papi,” he said, voice thick with a Spanish accent, “go away.”
The older man shook his head. “No. You come back here, and expect not to be gotten up at eight? For heaven’s sake, young man, your daughter was up at four.”
“Then my daughter’s crazy,” he muttered.
Raksha chuckled softly listening to the exchange, eyeing Izzy sideways, and murmuring, "There's incentives to getting up." Though he made no move to get up immediately, having only rolled onto his back and no further. It was warm and the bed was soft and he could feel Izzy's hip against his for all that the older male was sitting up. Stretching sleep-stiffened muscles, he watched Izzy wake up with heavy-lidded yellow eyes.
Izzy slid a hand over to touch Raksha’s side, under the covers where Papi couldn’t see it. “So says the man who rolls over onto his back,” he muttered, stifling a yawn. “Alright, alright, we’re getting up. We’ll be down in a little bit.”
Papi gave him one of the traditional Santino stares that usually equated to “you’d better be.” He uncrossed his arms and started for the door, calling back over his shoulder. “If you’re not down in fifteen minutes, I’m coming back up with a spray bottle!”
The fingertips sliding across his skin were quite welcome and he leaned into the touch just slightly, a soft purr in his throat. Then eyed the male they belonged to with a sleepy gaze, "So we've got fifteen minutes.." deliberately letting the sentence trail off suggestively, though he imagined they both knew there wasn't really time to act on the implication. Not that a spray bottle was going to deter him if they did. "Oh, did I say getting up? I meant waking up," he murmured with feigned innocence.
Izzy twisted onto his side, supporting himself on one elbow, and slide his fingers father across Raksha’s skin. “You said getting up,” he whispered. “And I’d rather save it for the car. I have ideas.” He grinned and then sat up again, running a hand over his hair. “Sides...he says fifteen, he means eight. I say fifteen, he means nine.” He shook his head. “My grandfather is very picky about leaving me alone with people he doesn’t yet trust. Especially if said person and his grandson had sex in the hot tub.”
A wicked glint entered his eyes at the older male's suggestion and those exploring fingertips only added to that line of thought. "Mmm, we'll definitely have to test those out then," he purred then sat up as well, the wicked humor translating into a rather mischievous grin as he slipped out of bed. He stretched, muscles rippling under still-warm honeyed skin, then found his rather rumpled shirt and tugged it on. Facing Izzy again, he teased, "Should I not tell him what a nice hot tub he has?"
“Not a good idea,” he agreed, shaking his head, but staying put for a moment longer. “God, I miss my bed here.” Izzy spread his hand out on the bed, watching the movement for a longer time than strictly necessary. Sighing, he took his hand away and slid out of the bed, rummaging in a drawer for something other than last night’s clothes to wear. “You can try some of the drawers over there,” he said. “I used to be smaller than I am now. Around your weight, I think...some of those clothes might fit you, at least well enough to be presentable. Otherwise, Nani will get on us about your shirt.”
Yellow eyes, no longer sleepy, watched his companion touch the mattress with a nostalgic fondness, then for a moment longer as Izzy got up and dug for clothing. The smell of food held his attention a few seconds more as he deciphered the individual flavors, then glanced down at his shirt to see how wrinkled it was and chuckled softly. One of his favorites because the cotton was worn and soft but still durable. He liked the feel of it, when deigning to wear a shirt at all. He contemplated refusing but then a flash of wicked curiosity made him want to see the reaction to him wearing Izzy's clothes. He moved slowly to the drawers in question and hunted up a black t-shirt and replaced his rumpled white one with it.
Izzy pulled out a black shirt with red lettering, declaring him the staff of his high school, and a pair of jeans. He changed quickly, leaving the old shirt and jeans on the bed, and then stretched. He reached for his sweatshirt and draped it over his arm, not yet putting it on. “They like to think I’m their little boy again. Their little grandson. It’s kind of hard for them to understand that I’m...an adult.” He shrugged. “Hard for them to grasp the things I did on the street, and so they try to pretend it didn’t happen. They still treat me like a child sometimes. They might do that to you, too...so try not to be offended if it happens, alright?”
He nodded, figuring since unspecified just changing his shirt was enough to deter comments from Izzy’s grandmother, and studied the older male for a long moment, listening. They probably understood better than they allowed their grandson see, denying in an effort to banish what might be seen as rejection. A slight smile touched his lips as he moved to press a shoulder against Izzy’s, pleased that there was only a t-shirt’s worth of material between them. “I’m not that easily offended, angel,” he murmured, amusement glinting in his eyes and threaded through his tone.
“Don’t be amused. It hurts sometimes,” he muttered, reaching out to brush his fingers over Raksha’s arm. “Come on, Raksha. Let’s go downstairs, then. Bet Nani’d love to meet you. She only knows what Papi’s seen of you.” He slid past Raksha and towards the hall, still carrying his sweatshirt, but he paused at the doorway, turning back to look at Raksha. “We don’t have to stay and eat if you don’t want to, you know. We could just...say hi and leave.”
He arched an eyebrow, humor dissolving entirely, "Amused is better than the other reactions they could get from me." Stretching again until a couple of joints cracked, he moved towards the door, absently trying to decide if the material of the t-shirt was comfortable or too scratchy. "Do you want to stay and eat?" Relatives were not a concept Raksha found intimidating. And he wanted to see what it was like, having little to no experience of family himself. Not that he had ever been particularly bitter about that lack.
“I guess so,” he agreed to Raksha’s statement about being amused. He scratched at the back of his neck as he leaned up against the doorframe. “I...I love my grandparents, but...sometimes I think I’d rather go home and eat by myself.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It doesn’t make a difference to me, Raksha. If you wanna go, we’ll go. If you wanna stay, we’ll stay. We can stay all day, or just breakfast, or just to say hi. If they make you uncomfortable, then we can just go.” He frowned. “Unless you just wanted my opinion on it?”
Raksha moved up beside him, sliding an arm around Izzy's waist, "I'm not averse to staying," he commented mildly, "and yes, I did. It's your grandparents, so it’s up to you how long we stay." His gaze remained on Izzy's face, though yellow eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts. He was aware of the indecisive tension in the older male's body but waited. A brief glance down reminded him to grab his shoes and shirt, not wanting to forget them.
“We...we’ll stay for...breakfast. Maybe longer. But if you want to go home...or just to get out for a little while...let me know, okay? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable if we can avoid it.” He slid both arms around Raksha, wrapping him up in a hug. “I love you,” he whispered quietly. “I don’t want you to be at odds with them, or associate them with awkwardness. So if...if it...bothers you, being here, then we can leave.”
He went still, surprised, unused to true affection. Such sincerity behind the actions threw him off-balance, muscles tightening automatic defense. Usually such attempts to defend his well-being only left him short-tempered and feeling caged in. A flicker of that still reared up, but not as strongly as he'd expected. The instinctive response was to pull away, or some kind of verbal equivalent to bared teeth. He didn't want to hurt Izzy and had been relaxed enough not to follow through on his first instinct. "I'm alright," he murmured, it was true enough, "Something tells me Papi is going to be up here with a spray bottle in a moment."
Izzy dropped his arms from around Raksha, knowing it’d probably caught him off-guard. “I don’t care,” he muttered. “We’re up and dressed, aren’t we?” He rubbed at the side of his face, then his eye. “Come on. He just might spray us anyway.” He reached out and ruffled Raksha’s hair, grinning, then slid out into the hallway.
Wicked amusement came back, making his eyes glitter with it and a hint of a smirk tugged at his mouth as he followed Izzy out into the hallway, catching up enough to tickle him lightly before dodging away from any retaliation. “I doubt it’ll be as effective as he hopes,” he commented in a low voice as they reached the stairs. He paused to allow Izzy to start down the steps ahead of him.
“Jackass,” Izzy said, laughing. Raksha knew all of his ticklish spots, and he also knew that Izzy hated to be tickled...although he was beginning to warm up to it now. “Won’t be,” he agreed. “Well, for you. For me, it will be.” He shrugged and started down the steps, going quickly out of habit, then paused about midway down, turning. “Raksha? Don’t go purring in front of Nani yet. She doesn’t know you’re a mutant.”
He arched an eyebrow briefly but didn’t argue. He could accede to the request for the moment. Nodding slightly, he caught up to Izzy and nipped his shoulder before pulling on a nonchalantly innocent expression, though just a hint of humor remained in his eyes if one knew how to look for it.
Izzy leaned forward and kissed Raksha’s cheek, muttering “Love you,” in Raksha’s ear before starting down the stairs again. “Thanks, by the way.” He left an unspoken “I’ll make it up to you” hanging in the air as he got to the foot of the stairs. He leaned up against the wall, waiting for Raksha to catch up. “Oh...and don’t mention that uh...thing...you talked me into. They don’t know yet.”
The last request sparked another wicked smile, though it disappeared before they got into the kitchen, since it would only lead to questions that couldn’t be answered. Izzy’s ‘love you’ brought a sense of warmth to his senses that carried him the rest of the way down to the kitchen. It was good, he reflected, that the t-shirt of Izzy’s he’d borrowed was heavy enough material to hide the tell-tale signs of his own nipple rings.
Izzy led into the kitchen, tracing his fingers back along Raksha’s hand for a moment. Inside the kitchen, Nani was just beginning to lay out her infamous eggs, a plate of pancakes, and some various types of meats. He leaned forward to ruffle his daughter’s hair, which won an angry yelp out of her. “Mornin’ sweetheart,” he said. “Nani...Papi.” He nodded towards them, then stepped aside and out of the way for Raksha. “Papi, Lisha, you remember Raksha...Nani, this is my boyfriend, Raksha.”
His gaze studied their expressions first, noting the surprise in Nani’s, even as he matched each scent with a face, though Papi and Eilis he’d already stored in his memory. The younger female was looking at Izzy not him, glaring rather, at the undignified greeting he’d given her. But the elder couple was watching him, Papi with spray bottle in hand. He returned their gaze, expression revealing nothing, golden eyes thoughtful and neither entirely welcoming or entirely challenging. It was all that they didn’t say that he paid attention to. The currents of wariness, surprise, distrust, each with their own particular feel and marker. For now, that was as deeply as he looked. For Izzy’s sake, he murmured a greeting in a low, slightly velvet tone.
Nani recovered from her surprise quickly, and she gave Raksha a big smile. “Good morning,” she said, accent thicker than Izzy’s had been. “I’m Esperanza,” she said. “But he calls me Nani. It’s a pleasure to meet you, honey.”
Papi just nodded and set the spray bottle down. “You two go ahead and have a seat.”
Izzy shot Raksha a look and shrugged, picking a seat with an empty one beside it. “Looks good, Nani,” he said, giving her a smile.
Eilis finally quit glaring at him and went back to poking a fork at her plate. “Hey Daddy...can I talk to you and your boyfriend after breakfast?”
Unfazed by the slight tension though still aware of it, Raksha settled easily into the empty chair next to Izzy’s, a little unsure of what else to say though it didn’t show in his expression. Politeness, manners and such things were a bit outside of his experience though he could play along well enough if need be. He just usually chose not to. At least the ‘pleasure to meet you’ was genuine. He echoed Izzy’s opinion silently; the food did look, and smell, quite good.
Izzy reached out to brush a finger over Raksha’s wrist under the table as if reassuring him that he was doing fine. “Uhh...sure, Eilis. We can talk after breakfast.” He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. Or really what to think. He was hoping that whatever it was, it was going to be at least semi-short and not very involved, because, after all...they had ideas...And plans to visit the pet store.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek before sitting back down again.
A hint of warmth lit his eyes at Izzy’s touch. Muscles relaxed a fraction, but retained the sort of ‘coiled spring’ readiness to move in any direction. Their moods teased at his senses, each having a sort of...scent and feel that he’d never be to explain in words. Turning his hand almost imperceptibly, but just enough, he managed to gently squeeze Izzy’s fingers. Attempting to dust off some sense of manners he waited for the others to start eating first, still gauging minute reactions. The small pair of gold hoops in each ear and the tattoos around his upper arms was visible enough; he doubted anyone had missed them. He felt the process of them judging what they saw like a light weight against his skin, not yet negative or positive.
Nani took a seat beside Papi, nodding at Eilis. Izzy squeezed Raksha’s hand under the table, leaning over to whisper, “they’re going to pray, close your eyes,” in his ear. Eilis folded her hands over her plate and cleared her throat, a little overdramatically. Papi and Nani did the same, although with significantly less flair. Eilis made a point of staring at her father and Raksha, looking at them from underneath her eyebrows as if to tell them to hurry up and get on with moving their hands to the “proper” position.
Raksha managed to keep his face blank and put his hands in the correct position, eyes mostly closed. Amusement slid through his thoughts at how ironic the whole thing was. He didn’t so much listen to the words spoken as what wasn’t. His twin, he knew would be greatly amused to see this particular sight and knowing that, decided never to tell him. When the prayer finished, he muttered a proper ‘amen’, well except for the fact that it was in Gaelic.
Izzy slid his hands back under the table when Eilis was done praying. He reached across the table for the pitcher of orange juice and looked over at Raksha, raising an eyebrow as if asking him if he wanted any.
Nani smiled at Raksha, patiently putting food on her husband’s plate and then her own. “So, Raksha...what is it you do for a living, honey?”
He had to swallow the laugh at being called ‘honey’ of all things, though it told him a lot about her personality. Nodding briefly at Izzy’s silent question, he attempted to give an answer the elder couple would understand, “I work at a night club,” he replied casually, adding, “as a bouncer mostly.” Then waited, taking a bite of the food in front of him, while snickering mentally at the whole thing, especially all the other answers he could have given.
Izzy poured the juice into Raksha’s cup and then his own, clearing his throat. “He’s gonna come do some work at my school, too. Apparently, we need a new mascot.” Shooting Raksha an innocent look, he set the pitcher down.
“That’s...lovely,” Nani said, smiling at Raksha. “You look like you do an excellent job.”
“He...does,” Izzy said, swallowing laughter with his orange juice. “Speaking of mascots...Papi, can we...borrow Rajah’s collar?”
Papi gave him a look. “Why?”
Raksha knew the question was coming just from the spike of amusement he sensed from Izzy and managed to keep a straight face, despite the utter naïveté on Nani’s and the puzzled expression on Papi’s. The innocent one on Izzy’s was completely fake. He bit his lip briefly, shielded by taking a sip of the juice, waiting for Izzy’s answer to the question. There was nothing he could say to the older female’s remark, so he didn’t try for a reply.
“Because we...” He blinked over at Eilis. “Cover your ears, Lisha.” Glaring at her father for a long moment, she rolled her eyes and covered her ears obediently. “’Cause we wanna have hot kinky sex with it?”
Nani’s jaw dropped. Almost literally to the table. Papi just stared.
Izzy shifted. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, calm down. We need it to measure the size for a tiger’s neck for the mascot.”
He couldn’t stop the soft chuckle under his breath, trying hard not to actually laugh, knowing the amusement would show enough in his eyes to make it unnecessary. Neither of the two across of them needed to say a word, their expressions said it all. He marked the flicker of wariness in Papi’s, gaze going unfocused long enough to confirm his earlier suspicions about their innocence of Izzy’s previous and to some extent current…activities. Amusement sparking again, he wondered if Nani suspected what they’d done in the hot tub the previous night.
“Somehow I still feel like I’m being lied to,” Papi said.
Izzy rolled his eyes and turned to Raksha. “If you ever wondered where my power came from? Him. All him. He’s the natural equivalent of my powers.” He turned back to his grandparents and set his hands down on the table. “Would ya really like to know? ‘Cause I could tell ya. But somehow, I get the idea that maybe you two are better off with the second answer.”
This time he let the somewhat wicked smile show just a bit, knowing he was ruining any hope of Nani perceiving him as a ‘nice young man’. Her body language had been utterly accepting at first, but now it was closed a bit. He swallowed the smile, but the expression that remained was a lesser version of the predatory one he wore on the street. Tension increased a bit, flavored with suspicion on Papi’s part. “I rather think you would be preferring not to know,” he added, unconsciously affecting his twin’s sometimes accent. It seemed appropriate, even if the darker amusement in the all too feral yellow eyes didn’t quite match it.
Eilis rolled her eyes and got up from the table. “I’m going to go visit the neighbors,” she said. “Or go get hit by a car. Yeah. Bye.” She left the room, muttering about bleaching her brain.
Papi crossed his arms over his chest once she was gone and leaned back. “No, Israel, I think I’d really like to know.”
Izzy bit his lip, watched his daughter go, and then turned to Raksha, raising an eyebrow. “You want me to tell ‘em? Or would you prefer that I didn’t, and we can just...leave.”
Amusement drained away like water down the drain, wariness rising in its place. He didn’t fear their reactions to what he was. Izzy was, after all, different like him, if in another way. Mutants. Or so he’d been called once. Opaque yellow eyes studied Papi, noting the suspicion in the elder male’s expression and aware of other emotions beneath that mask. But he’d read far enough before and body language never lied. There was no shame in what he was, so he lifted both shoulders slightly in an elegant and very feline shrug, “If you like,” gaze flicking back to Papi and Nani, the tiger in it clearer than ever if one knew how to look for it.
“My boyfriend is a tiger, Nani, Papi. He’s a shifter. He changes. But unlike other people...other special people, who can change shape...he is a tiger. My school, as you know, has a tiger mascot. I kinda wanted to take him to school with me, but first, we need a collar. And I’m going to take him to the pet store and get one. But in order to do that...I’d have to have one on him in the first place. Which is why we need to borrow Rajah’s collar. So I can take him in the pet store and find him a collar that fits and isn’t...” He cringed. “Pink.”
Papi nodded after a long moment. “Fine,” he agreed. “Now I’m going to fetch Eilis, so you two...stay here and eat with your grandmother.”
He read shock in their faces. But not all of it was at the explanation itself, Raksha had the feeling part of it was in the fact that Izzy had been so forthcoming. Papi seemed less surprised by it of the two. But he knew his twin had mentioned something of his own abilities to the man when they’d all been at Izzy’s place the week before. Rather than give away how perceptive he was, he arched an eyebrow at Izzy, pretending to be indignant, “Pink?”
Nani took up from where Izzy had left at “pink.” “Adàn’s tiger was a female. We always liked to...remind...people of that. Rajah had a pink collar...she didn’t wear it unless she was going out, but pink nonetheless. Uhh...I don’t imagine either of you is still...hungry?”
Izzy shook his head, though he hadn’t eaten anything, hadn’t even put food on his plate. “I’m not,” he said, though he finished drinking his orange juice. “I hated the damn thing. The collar, I mean. Too bright. Bothered my eyes.”
Raksha snorted softly at the comment, agreeing with Izzy’s opinion on pink. He could have eaten more but decided against it, watching the tension rise in Izzy’s body language, and shook his head to deny the offer of food. Part of his thoughts were considering the other ways a collar could be used that had nothing to do with schools and mascots. Which brought back the temptation to mention what a nice hot tub they had. But perhaps not to Nani. Leaning one shoulder against Izzy’s for a brief moment, he commented casually, “Perhaps we should get going…”
Izzy nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. “We probably should. Be a good idea to go ahead down there and get to the pet store now, then. Maybe come back and give Papi back his collar. But besides, I have papers to grade. And I should probably take you over to the campus today so you can see it. Learn your way around it for when we go.”
Nodding assent to that, Raksha got to his feet. He’d managed to finish the small amount of food he’d had on his plate to begin with, but that wouldn’t last. His metabolism would burn it up in hours or less. A trip to the pet store in tiger form sounded highly entertaining, despite looking gender confused in a pink collar. He half hoped to avoid the ‘talk’ with Eilis, not particularly in the mood for it, half-guessing how not well it might go.
Izzy nodded and stood up, rubbing at his elbow. He reached for his sweatshirt and slipped it on over his head. It, too, was a staff shirt, and it had a tiger on the back. “We’ll get the collar, borrow a car, and have you change here so we don’t get any funny looks. And then we’ll come back, give Papi’s collar back, and return the Trans Am to your brother. Sound like a plan?”
“Works for me,” he commented, moving to grab his own shirt which had been left by the stairs and tugged shoes on before tucking the shirt into a back pocket for ease of transport until he tossed it in the car. A slight sense of not-quite adrenaline rush rippled through his muscles as it often did before shifting. The movement between forms was more fluid than it seemed and he didn’t entirely consider either one to be “more” a true form than the other. A yawn accompanied a brief stretch, then he was watching Izzy, eyebrows raised expectantly.
Izzy gave Nani a quick hug, and a gracias, before releasing her and heading upstairs to Papi and Nani’s room. He went quickly, pulling a collar out from a drawer and then slipping it into his pocket. Hopefully before Raksha noticed the bell on it. He shut the drawer quietly and left the room, walking with a hand pressed against his leg to quiet the bell. “C’mon, then. We’ll use Eric’s truck.”
Raksha followed Izzy up the stairs, though in instinctive sense of territory, paused at the doorway to what was obviously Papi’s. He saw the quickness of the gesture of the collar being shoved in a pocket as well as the flash of metal. A bell, judging by the faint whisper of sound before it was muffled in Izzy’s jeans pocket. He watched Izzy approach him, pretending not to have noticed the bell until the older male passed him and they were headed back to the stairs. Then, catching up, he nearly-purred in Izzy’s ear, a sarcastic edge to it, “Pink and a bell? How lovely.”
Izzy grimaced as Raksha purred in his ear. “I suppose it wouldn’t help my case at all to say it can’t be taken off?” he asked. “And if you tickle me for this...I’ll come up with some sort of revenge. And it just might involve the damn collar.” He rubbed a hand over his face and kept walking, heading for the garage. Houses in California just didn’t have basements because of the seismic activity, but most had garages, and some even had multiple levels. “Eric’s truck is in the garage. You wanna be a tiger and curl up in the back...or be a tiger and curl up in the front seat and try not to be all cramped?”
Raksha chuckled slightly, mood shifting slightly again. He caught up with Izzy as the older male reached the truck and eyed it for a moment before commenting, without a hint of sarcasm, "Isn't it illegal to have animals in the truck bed?" Studying the truck however, he had the feeling they might have to risk it anyway since he really didn't think all nearly ten feet of him was going to fit in the cab. "Don't think we've got much of a choice even if it is."
"Merely wondering, not that the label 'illegal' has ever stopped me," Raksha remarked, lip curling in disgust at the collar for a moment before it was replaced with amusement at how Izzy was going to have to explain over and over why a male tiger was wearing a pink collar. He tugged the t-shirt out of his back pocket and stepped closer, catching Izzy's chin in one hand and kissing the older male briefly before moving away, tossing the t-shirt into the truck bed. The change was fast, muscle and bone seeming to seamless melt into a new shape until hands and feet became paws and so on. Giving Izzy a particularly smug feline look he leaped into the truck bed, feeling it quiver slightly under the impact of 500 or so pounds.
Izzy sighed, after Raksha had changed, and leaned forward, buckling the collar around Raksha’s neck. He rubbed the top of Raksha’s head for a minute, then leaned forward to open the back window of the cab. “That way, you can get me if you need to. ‘Bout a fifteen minute drive to the pet store from here, alright?”
White spotted ears twitched, one cocked to catch the words, the other listening to the rustle of small creatures scampering through the yard. He watched the human male – Izzy – get into the cab then stuck his head through the open window and licked an ear. The smells that reached his nose tempted him to jump out of the truck and explore. So little was he allowed to be out like this. A bird overhead drew his gaze, instincts immediately projected how to go about catching it but he didn’t move. The collar was irritating, not fitting quite right since it was for another tiger. Her faint scent still remained, imbedded into the material. Each movement jostled the bell and a soft metallic clinging was heard. That was going to get old fast.