IN WHICH FENN BUGS a POTION MAKER

[FennWenn]

Useless human. It jabbered meaninglessly in its tongue at her, and did nothing else.

Daugi huffed impatiently, filling the air with the scent of raw meat. Fine. If that was how it was, then she would simply sit here and revive Fenn herself. Her unconscious child was gingerly nudged with her snout as she flopped over beside him — not in the puke. He was breathing, but did not rouse at her touch.

Well then. The next best thing to do was to lick him awake. That usually worked. It was best to keep one’s tongue in motion as much as possible. Else, there was the risk of it freezing.

~~~

“Pigwidgeon, I thought you said you were going to get rid of the fleas.”

This was a dream. Fenn could tell, because he was currently sitting in a grassy field under a swirling starry sky with a blue-scaled double-serpented-headed woman. This was how a disconcerting amount of his dreams went, really. Chancellor Banrion seemed a bit put-out for some reason. Her arms were folded over each other in a disapproving manner, clawed hands fidgeting with the ends of her red sleeves irritably. She

Fenn scratched his head, struggling to think. <Uhhhhhmmm, no. Fleas? Not yet. Was going to though. I think?>

“Your physical body is currently passed out, drooling and shuddering, on a rather ugly patch of carpeting.”

Oh. Was it? He shrugged, shooting her a befuddled grin. <Don’t remember what was happening after I ate the candy. It was really good candy. Wonder if I could make my own candy out of honey?>

“Fennik, you nearly overdosed on an inexplicable foreign agent — an incident that could have been fatal.”

<Overdosed on deliciousness.>

“Are you actually paying me heed? It is taking a certain restraint to not refer to you as a tiny idiot.” She uttered a twofold sigh and tossed her manes indignantly. “By my own damn divinity… Pigwidgeon, I enjoy your company, I must forcibly rouse you now. Do treat the red-haired human gentleman with a modicum of respect. For one thing, he just courteously attempted to save you from your own stupidity. For another…” Her eyes flashed with worry. “You were too… confused to notice it when awake, but skimming through your most recent memories, I feel that this man shines warm with the brightness of magic. Please do not provoke him.”

<I think he tried to steal my candy,> Fenn mentally muttered, only half listening.

Banrion stared at him a moment, crimson eyes narrowed down to disbelieving slits. Both heads made frustrated noises in the back of their throats. “Rouse, my dense child. Please do go fix your damn mess.”

~~~

“Wrrruf.”

An insistent tongue oozed over Fenn’s forehead. Bluh! The boy squeaked and pushed away the sloppy licker, his eyes open and (not quite) alert. Dumb Daugi. How did she get in any- ooh, that door did not look good.

He patted the wolf on the muzzle, then yelped and drew back as a pair of fleas leaped off out of nowhere. From a little off to the side, the potion-maker sat, seemingly scared stiff as a statue. Likely, it was Daugi’s fault. Fenn wasn’t too surprised to see her inside the shop, but it was a shame, really. Hopefully nekojin were not as susceptible to fleas as direwolves.

Nevin cleared his throat and glanced warily between the two. “Ah, are you doing better now?”

A woozy thumbs-up was wobbled in reply. Fenn’s mind was still rather mixed up, and his forehead pounded. There were flashes of color darting through the air, but he was increasingly aware that those were Not A Normal, and that maybe he should ignore them. The dream with Banrion was starting to sink in. He could remember bits and pieces of that — and his general out-of-it idiocy — but little of what had happened before.

Fenn tapped a patch of frost out on the stone floor. His writing was… somewhat sloppier than normal. DOG FRIEND NO BITE UNLESS I ASK. COLORS GOING GONE? YOU FIX? TO THANK YOU, WAS TOLD. ALSO YOU WARM. MADE OF MAGIC? Even with that written out, there was a lot more he wanted to ask about. Like, would they still get their flea medicine, or were they banned now?