“Do you think she’ll get bigger?” He had no experience with animals outside of what he’d seen in Sanctuary. Everything before was a blur, he could not remember ever learning about the different animals beyond the few that the Wanderers had.
Kaheer responded honestly, taken aback by the offer. He had never been offered either by the Wanderers, nor had Jaael and him had the luxury of it on the road. He’d had tea before, dried leaves soaked in water, used in herbal remedies when the torture by the Wanderers hands had been taken too far and he’d needed more than a healer’s touch to bring him back. Gently, he began to pet Summer, first behind the ears, then the sides of her neck, eventually going down to one knee so that it was easier for him to pay attention to her while still talking to Anton.
“Definitely,” Anton nodded at the puppy. She was barely six months old and already ten times bigger than when he got her. “Probably much bigger,” her pelt shone, she was a good weight, she seemed quite sure on her legs, although a bit fumbling from the growth spurt, and while Anton still wouldn’t eat meat, he’d make sure to bring some for her every now and then. The smell of it sizzling in the pan had made him sick the only time he’d tried to cook it after more than a decade, but he was worried bread and bones and vegetable soup wasn’t a good enough diet. Sometimes, every few weeks, he could handle a few pieces of meat, but now that he’d actually brought custom to the butcher, the man had warmed up to him enough that he gave him it already cooked. Perhaps in anticipation to the treats, Summer had grown to enjoy those trips to the market the most.
He glanced up at Kaheer’s answer, something flickering across his features – confusion, or apprehension, or a mixture of both – but he forced a smile on his face and gave a half shrug. “I sometimes put a bit of sugar in it. But mostly I drink it plain. Or with brandy,” of course, he drank his more alcohol than tea, but he refrained from pointing that out. “Milk for stronger tea, but not this kind,” he poured two mugs, and brought them to the table.
“You can pick her up, you know. She doesn’t mind being carried,” at first, he had barely noticed Kaheer was kneeling in his kitchen, but now they were close and he was craning his neck down to look at him, and while he kept to the opposite corner of the table, it still made him feel like he was looming over him. “Start with a spoonful, and see how it tastes,” he returned to the counter, grabbing the earthen bowl of sugar and a somewhat dented and deformed spoon and brought them over.
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