For the past couple days Israel had spent his days keeping to himself as he recovered from his ‘ordeal’. This particular morning he had been handed a list of chores by the guard’s housekeeper, Astrid, as he made himself a peanut butter and banana sandwich. Taking a bite of the sandwich he read down the list. Clean the house, get the dry cleaning, pick up a few items around the city. Looking at the listed stores and items he stopped at the end of the list with a frown. He could feel the older wolf’s eyes on him as she cut up some vegetables. The way she handled that knife unnerved him. There was no use arguing and he had been told to make himself useful. Sucking in his lip and chewing on the inside of it, he sighed inwardly before heading towards the door. Making his way back and forth from the house to the different stores a sense of dread filled him as he crossed each task off the list. The last one he had been dreading. Standing awkwardly in front of the shop’s door, he finally pushed it open, wincing at the chime that sounded. The familiar scents of old books, dust, and metal enveloped him. But another scent stood out more, one that churned his stomach. Clutching the list awkwardly in his hand, he hid-halfway behind the shelves, feigning interest in an ancient tea set in one of the glass cases. Hearing footfalls approach him, he turned his head, eyes wide and almost anxious as they fell on the older human. His lips parting to form words but he found himself grasping to form a coherent thought. Instead, he just stood there. Staring blankly down at Seth, anxiety welling in the pit of his stomach. And for a moment he forgot why he had been sent here. I need a painting.
