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[wizard_howell]

Time has a habit of inching onward, and married life is absolutely divine except for when it isn't, and the war is over -- mostly; there's always some business or other that keeps things afloat, always a spell that needs delivering, always a last-minute summon to the castle -- and often the only place he can use as a foolproof escape is this very

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[makesthings]

Sameth remembers him and laughs,

"Not even if its fun work?"

[wizard_howell]

Nodding almost (but not quite) mournfully to Sameth, he rests an arm lightly round his shoulder and speaks confidentially.

"If it was fun, they wouldn't call it work."

And there's nothing further from the truth; he loves what he does or he would simply refuse to carry on with it. But there are images to uphold and what have you.

"How are you, my fine friend?"

It's a night for cider; he steers them both toward the bar.

[makesthings]

He laughs and let's himself be led along,

"True, pretty good. I found someone else who knows about cricket and I've got a new project. Have you ever done anything with penguins?"

[wizard_howell]

Now that's one of the oddest questions he's ever been asked, and he's been asked a great many strange things in his lifetime. He eyes Sameth warily, his hand dropping to his own side.

"What sorts of things with penguins?"

Curious that there are still new and exotic things he has yet to think of or even consider. And he thought himself wise, but he's still trying to see the correlation between cricket and penguins. Perhaps he's been away from his homeland for far too long.

[mogget_cat]

That collar is big enough to hide a medium-sized cat.

Good thing Yrael is small.

"Forget about you, save me."

[wizard_howell]

"Oh, everybody needs saving these days. It's such a chore."

Magic. Everybody wants a piece of it; everybody wants what it has to offer and what it represents.

"Now give me three good reasons why I should save you on my evening off. Instead of, say, having a nice cold pint of cider."

He's waiting.

[mogget_cat]

"Whyever do children insist that creatures around them must want to be dressed in ribbons and bows?" Yrael grumbled, picking something frilly out of his fur and spitting it out onto the floor.

"Three? I shall only give you one. That by saving me - which, incidentally, calls for only tolerance on your part, no work - you will certainly save yourself from the work you have come here to escape."

[wizard_howell]

Saving people (and cats) often goes hand-in-hand with some sort of commitment, and he is notoriously good at not committing to very much of anything. He can't help it if he's duly skeptical.

"Do tell. What kind of tolerance are you looking for?"

That, like everything else, can be measured in degrees.