Chapter Fifty-Three – The Dragon’s Favorite Strays
Chapter Fifty-Three
MURR
The next morning is extremely cold. Even I, who am not usually bothered by the weather here, find it uncomfortable. My limbs in my two-legged form feel the pinch of the chill. I offer to make a fire inside the bookstore for the humans so they can warm themselves in the shelter, but they do not want to burn anything inside. It must be outside, and so windbreaks are propped up around the fire and folding chairs are set closer to the fire pit than usual.
“You need pants,” Dakota says as we stand near the fire just outside. She holds her hands out to the flame, warming them as she eyes me. “I don’t like the thought of you catching a chill.”
“Is that something dragons get?” Rabbit asks, curious. She does not have as many layers on as Aggie and Dottie. I do not think they will be spending much time by the fire today. Already the elder females look miserable, and Aggie has mentioned that she wants to spend her time with Stella and the new puppies.
They need warm food for their bellies. “I good.”
“I am good,” Rabbit corrects.
“I am good,” I echo, then make a wing flapping motion. “Dragon soon. Go hunt for meat.”
“Pants would probably just get in the way,” Dakota says thoughtfully.
“He needs stripper pants,” Dottie says. “The ones with the velcro.”
“What are stripper pants?” Rabbit asks, giggling. Her eyes are wide.
I am curious about this, too.
Dottie shrugs and continues moving her sticks and yarn. Nee-ting, I think it is called. She chuckles to herself. “Back in the Before, there were men that took their clothes off for money. The pants they wore had velcro all down the sides and so they’d just reach down and pull, and their clothes would come right off instantly!”
Rabbit squeals with laughter.
“This good,” I say. I am still not entirely certain on the concept of man-ee or whatever vel-cro is, but pants that come off instantly seem logical to me. “I want stripper pants.”
“No,” Dakota says, and her shoulders shake as if she is about to cry. She presses a hand to her mouth. “Maybe we don’t talk about this in front of impressionable ears.”
“Oh, whatever, Mom.” Rabbit rolls her eyes.
“I was referring to Murr,” Dakota says. “And I expect stripper talk to come from Aggie and not you, Dottie.”
“I’m old. I ain’t dead.” Dottie snorts. “I’ve seen some shit.”
“Why am I getting roped into this?” Aggie asks. “I didn’t do anything! I’m just minding my own business.”
I frown as I listen to their banter. There is something I am missing. I have made great strides in picking up their language, but some things still elude me. “What is ‘stripping’? Why bad?”
“It’s not bad,” Dottie says to me. “It’s very, very good–”
“Enough,” Dakota says, interrupting. She frowns at Dottie. “Don’t you have something you could be doing?”
Dottie holds up her neet-ing. “Doing it.”
Dakota shakes her head and moves towards me. “I’m sure you have questions, but trust me, stripping is nothing to concern yourself over. It was something that happened in the Before, and no one does it anymore.”
“I can for you,” I offer.
Aggie snickers.
“Very sweet of you to offer, but no.” Dakota shoots Aggie a hard look over her shoulder. She puts her hands on my arms and frowns. “And you are cold. Let me get you a blanket.”
She is changing the subject and bustles inside the bookstore. I am suddenly frustrated that something else has happened and it is not being told to me. I look over at Rabbit, but she has gone silent, and her expression is impossible to read. Her lips are pursed in the way I have learned that means she is not happy. Perhaps she wants to know more about stripping and these convenient pants, too.
Rabbit hops to her feet. “I’m going to go check on the ferals in the other building. Make sure they’re warm. Murr, you want to come with me? They like you more than me.”
I nod. She has a good heart and wants to make sure all the cats are comfortable. “I go with you.”
She cups a hand to her mouth. “Mom, we’re going to check on the ferals! We’ll be back soon!”
“But Murr needs something warm to wear,” Dakota calls back, worried. I hear her footsteps racing as she moves to the doorway and she opens the door again to frown at us. “Just wait–”
“He can go dragon and stay warm. Come on, Murr.” Rabbit sticks her hands in her pockets and heads across the parking lot, abandoning the campfire. I glance at Dakota. She does not seem upset at this new turn and shrugs. I follow after Rabbit, shifting to my battle-form the moment I am clear from the bookstore’s overhang.
It is much warmer in this form, the cold air unable to penetrate the hardened scales that cover my body. It would be easier to fly the short distance over to the other building, but Rabbit is walking, and so I follow after her, stepping over cars and trailing a few paces behind. She’s silent all the way over to the other side of the big flat area called a parking lot.
When we get to the other building, the one with the ferals and the hay inside, Rabbit opens the door and looks at me. “Change and get in here, Murr. You and I need to talk.”
