"Shelby and I are still very much-" Alex started to protest, stammered, stopped. "How do you know he's Covenant? And we're not- I'm not-"
One flustered grandson, two unnaturally young-looking grandmothers to enjoy it.
"Shush, dear," said Grandma Angela. "I can tell this one's Covenant, and it's not like I'm reading any minds. Nice of you to remind everyone not to chew on his head, that was thoughtful." It was that projective-only telepathy that had let Angela Baker avoid the Cuckoo trait of total and utter psychopathy.
Leave it to Sarah, now suddenly in the middle of the kitchen, to make things clear. In her own way.
"His flock sent him far, far away hoping he'd find a bigger birdy that would peck out his eyes, but he found Alex instead. So he's keeping his eyes and might actually use them now that there's no constant caw-caw-cawing at him for hunting and praying. But I don't think he's pair-bonding with Alex. Shelby has as many knives as Verity, and I don't think she wants anyone else in her nest. Can I have that cookie?"
She does, to her credit, wait for Angela to nod before plucking up a snickerdoodle and dripping ketchup on it.
"...Sarah actually kind of covered it there. This is Alistair, probably less suited to the Covenant than even Grandpa Thomas. He was giving Crow ear scritches for the entire ride over. Can we please find something to do for him that isn't killing him and sending his corpse back to England as a warning?"
"Of course, Alex," said Grandma Angela. "You know we'd never pay for the cost of shipping a whole body. Expensive, and leaves far too many chances for trace evidence."
"She's joking," Alex assured, lying through his teeth.
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Date: 2016-07-20 04:50 am (UTC)From:One flustered grandson, two unnaturally young-looking grandmothers to enjoy it.
"Shush, dear," said Grandma Angela. "I can tell this one's Covenant, and it's not like I'm reading any minds. Nice of you to remind everyone not to chew on his head, that was thoughtful." It was that projective-only telepathy that had let Angela Baker avoid the Cuckoo trait of total and utter psychopathy.
Leave it to Sarah, now suddenly in the middle of the kitchen, to make things clear. In her own way.
"His flock sent him far, far away hoping he'd find a bigger birdy that would peck out his eyes, but he found Alex instead. So he's keeping his eyes and might actually use them now that there's no constant caw-caw-cawing at him for hunting and praying. But I don't think he's pair-bonding with Alex. Shelby has as many knives as Verity, and I don't think she wants anyone else in her nest. Can I have that cookie?"
She does, to her credit, wait for Angela to nod before plucking up a snickerdoodle and dripping ketchup on it.
"...Sarah actually kind of covered it there. This is Alistair, probably less suited to the Covenant than even Grandpa Thomas. He was giving Crow ear scritches for the entire ride over. Can we please find something to do for him that isn't killing him and sending his corpse back to England as a warning?"
"Of course, Alex," said Grandma Angela. "You know we'd never pay for the cost of shipping a whole body. Expensive, and leaves far too many chances for trace evidence."
"She's joking," Alex assured, lying through his teeth.