Star scooped Bob up and held him against her chest, resting her chin between his ears and gazing at the harbor through her window. Her back was beginning to ache again as whatever shot it was Arnold had given her was starting to wear off. She had waited too long to go into the hospital and have the bandages changed. He hadn’t lectured her, but she suspected if she waited longer than a day to go in and have them changed he’d track her down.
Fortunately Arnold was cat-kin, he had asked relatively few questions knowing she’d prefer her privacy. Unfortunately, he was cat-kin, so eventually she’d have to field a difficult question to satisfy his curiosity further. She had tried to give the impression that it had been a kidnapping, but she wasn’t sure if she hadn’t just given the impression that she’d rather not talk about it.
She knew she should go pay Spires a visit, the kindest thing would be to let him shout for a bit. She and Avariel were the only ones who knew, and Star had heard that Avariel was back to work trying to find a way out of whatever mess it was the city was in this time. She’d also heard rumors of crabs and the cats, many of whom had come to pay her a visit at one point or another since her return, had been muttering about unsettled things in their usual unspecified way.
It was hard to imagine that there was a danger, the city looked as it always had. So blessedly normal. She sank onto her cot and let Bob go, he shot out the door without so much as a tail-twitch of farewell. She climbed back to her feet and shut the door, throwing the bolt.
“There’s always tomorrow.” She muttered, settling back onto her cot and picking up a book, “Always tomorrow.”