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Learning To Swim

By Ziusuadra and HyperWolf3000

The inevitable flecks of dust flicker in the crisp morning sunbeams. No matter how much you groom or vacuum, when everyone living in the house has fur, there'll always be a few stray fragments drifting free. These specific particles are caught in the low angled light, coming through the windows high on the side wall, that say it's after dawn but maybe still a little early to really be getting up. She huffs, stretches against the slightly warmer morning air, and snuggles deeper back into the blankets, only to be reminded that for once she's not alone in bed by a soft curve of stone-grey hair pressed up against her chest and his distinctive scent. The tangled sheets are queen-size, normally more than enough space for her to roll around on even though she's, let's be realistic, a lot taller than an average girl, but they seem a lot less empty now that she has some company. After she blinks to get her focus back in, her eyes travel down the honey-gold fur that marks the sculpted curve of her forearm, looking for the traceries of white which highlight his ears and muzzle. ...then, naturally, the alarm goes off and spoils what would otherwise be a perfect moment. Stifling a yawn, Angel reaches over to the bedside table and disables the alarm clock with a claw. Leo slowly opens his eyes and lets out a small yawn, but she knows it's just him making fun of her far bigger exhalation. When you're an athletically-inclined lioness, one thing that you're not short on is lung capacity. "Rawr," in a deep sensuous growl. "Rawr!" at a much sharper pitch. "You can go back to sleep little one," she replies, "it's only 7:30." Leo thinks deeply about the temptations of further rest for for a long moment, but eventually his own youthful energy gets the better of him and he exclaims "I'm alright mum! I got enough sleep last night." "That's great honey. The more sleep you get, the stronger you'll grow." "You don't think there's anything wrong, with me wanting to sleep with you? I mean, I'm nearly twelve. I'm not quite too old for this yet, right?" "Of course not love. I remember plenty of times where I still slept in with my parents when I was your age. Now how about some breakfast?" White-fringed ears perk up and a little skinny tail begins to slap against the blanket. She still hasn't quite gotten completely used to her adopted wolf-child and is slightly surprised and happy every time he wags has tail, because of course big cats don't do that the same. "What are we gonna have for breakfast?" Well, someone is hungry. "How does a cheese omelette with smoked salmon sound?" "Sounds great!"

The alarm silenced, she grins, picks him up, lifts him out of bed, which is a really quite impressive feat as he is, by his own admission, almost twelve, and then follows him over the edge in search of her dressing gown. The supple robe is really more like something you'd see at the presentation of the fighters before a boxing match, sort of light and easy to slip on and off, which is how she came to have it after they gave it to her as part of an athletic appearance. She got to choose the color, so she picked tyrian purple, the imperial shade once limited to the lion kings, or queens if they asked their hubby nicely. She thinks it makes her look regal, but it's also good for pancakes, omelettes, and other hot breakfast foods where you don't want burning oil spritzed across your midriff. Angel heads out into the kitchen and starts to get things ready whilst Leo ducks off briefly to use the bathroom. She trusts him to take care of it himself, but keeps an ear out as she warms the pan, cracks a couple of eggs into a bowl and whisks them up, adding a dash of finely pre-sliced parsley from a small cardboard box, a tiny skerrick of pepper and just the finest hint of salt, because part of her health and fitness program involves keeping a very watchful eye on her diet. She'd worried, after she first adopted Leo, that this might cause a bit of a conflict. Kids are known for a desperate craving and desire for candy and sweets, greasy fast food and the like. But Leo was just so enthusiastic and happy she regularly made food for him, given his original circumstances, that it hadn't ever become an issue. He always likes to watch her cook and is fascinated by all the different ingredients and stuff, which she includes purely as part of her fitness regime, but to him are exotic and unusual. She's not sure he'd ever even gotten to have salmon before. His birth mother, not mention her sadistic boyfriend. Honestly, ick. Such dreadful canines, and yet such a nice kid. If they'd ever given him even half a chance, he could make anyone proud. By the time Leo catches up, the ingredients are ready to go. He shows his paw-pads to her with a big smile to show that yes, he has washed his hands. "Help lay the table," she suggests. As he dashes around collecting and dispensing plates and forks and knives and assorted kitchen things from various low draws, only slightly distracted by trying to watch her cook, she marvels that after everything he's still such a bundle or energy. He's never noticed that she moved some of the plates and things to lower draws, so he could reach them, right before he came home with her. The omelette goes well, thin chef-style ones like this a notorious challenge for the would-be cook, but she has lots of practice and is able to slip it out neatly, fold it over, and slice proportionally to get two segments that should feed their respective appetites. Purring happily to herself, a sort of low lioness rumble, she gives the still-hot pan a quick wipe with a paper towel, toughed paw-pads protecting her from the brief exposure, then crisps the salmon strips separately to preserve their flavour. "Breakfast is served," she declares archly. Both mammals begin to tuck into their breakfast, or in Leo's case, to ravenously devour it. So she passes him a little extra, a spare sliver of salmon she could probably do without. He's the perfect meal management solution for the lioness on the go. "This omelette is really delicious," exclaims Leo, licking the last traces feral-style off his lips. "Also, this smoked salmon tastes just like bacon!" "Well, I'm glad you like it love. Smoked salmon is a great substitute for bacon. Besides it's much healthier for you than bacon." "Bacon is great! But sometimes I feel bad for the animals. They're mammals I mean, just like us, even if they are feral. Maybe I should just stick to fish?" "It's not a bad idea. At the moment I still need the protein for my muscles, but one day I hope to become a vegetarian. So maybe we can work on it together." "You don't normally hear about a lioness being a vegetarian." "There are a few! I checked. Most of them are monks. So I don't know if I'd have the willpower." "I'll help!" "You're already helping." Once their breakfast is finished, Leo helps Angel place the plates into the dish washer. Although it's only two dishes and some cutlery, a small single-wash tray already inhabited by the remains of last nights dinner makes it justifiable to her mind, in the interests of time. And really, who wants to wash up if they don't have to? Lured by early morning cartoons, Leo dashes like a little furry missile out into the front room the instant they're done, while she's still setting things to rinse. A few moments later she catches up with him and settles down on the sofa beside him. "That was a wonderful breakfast!" he exclaims impulsively, trying to be winning at her and watch the colourful low frame-rate action at the same time, so she scruffles his ears affectionately. "I'm glad you liked it. Anyhow.... I've been thinking that we should do something as a family today. Something fun!" "What are we gonna do!?" "How do you feel about swimming?" Leo's enthusiastically alert ears suddenly drop flat against his head, and he looks very uneasy for a moment, before he begins to shake slightly and stare down at the floor. She realizes she must've inadvertently hit on a bad memory from his past, and hurriedly wraps her arms around him with both paws on his shoulders to try and show him that he's safe here. "Do you feel nervous about swimming, Leo? If you do, we don't have to."

In response Leo slowly nods his head. "I'm, um, not a great swimmer and I don't really like it very much. It makes me kinda scared." "Did something happen?" she asks tentatively, not wanting to pry but needing to know. Leo takes a deep breath and shivers. "Well, when I was seven years old, my old mother took me to a water park. And since I hadn't really learned to swim, I had to wear those armbands...." "And something went wrong?" "My arm floats came lose and I tried just as hard as I could but I just got so exhausted and then I started to sink to the bottom of the pool, I thought I was going to die but then just as I was about to breathe in water cause I couldn't help it, I got pulled out by someone who saw me sink! After that Kate, my old mum, never took me swimming again. She kept yelling at me for making a scene and saying how embarrassed she was but I'd almost died and she wasn't even looking!" Leo seems to be almost on the verge of tears after this long breathless confession with no pauses, strung together in a sort of stream of consciousness as kids do, without the rationalized revisions of an adult describing it from the perspective of later years.

"That's so wrong... but, would you like to learn to swim? Properly, this time? With someone who really cares about you looking after you and keeping you safe?" "Well, maybe I would... eventually... sometime?" "Would you like me to teach how to swim? I can teach you how, today. And then you'll never need to be afraid of the water ever again." Leo snuffles slightly, but nods his head in what is undoubtedly a yes, and Angel smiles before she gives his head fur a gentle ruffle and cuddles him to make sure he feels safe. "I'm so proud of you! You're so brave. All you need is a little bit of practice, with someone who'll actually help. Just you wait, soon you'll be able to swim a lap and never be scared again." Leo thinks about it, perhaps regretting his earlier boldness, but definitely considering. "How are we going to get to the pool?" "I'll drive us there. There's a kids class this morning, but they allow parents to swim with you, so I'll show you how first. Then, if you want, you can swim with the other kids." "Can I watch this cartoon first?"

"We'll set off there in about half an hour. Need to give your breakfast time to go down!" she teases and rubs his little wolfy belly. "Do you have swimming trunks?" "I packed them the last time I left my old mums house. When the social services fur said I should take whatever I had, because we wouldn't be coming back." "What you should do is put them on under your clothes, like underwear. That's what I do when I go swimming. It's much less embarrassing than getting changed, and if you sit on a towel for a bit afterwards, you can put your clothes back on and then have a proper shower at home." The detailed explanation and plan seems to help distract him from the underlying intention and bad memories, which was her plan, so she lets him watch his cartoon, a short brightly-toned burst of action less than ten minutes long designed to fit inside a modern kitten or pup's attention span, then reminds him that he should get changed. Cartoon over, he bursts upstairs with the same mad energy that characterizes all his comings and goings, and dashes up into his own room to rummage through the bedside draw - all to himself! - where he emptied all of the limited amount of stuff he had in the cheap bag they gave him. At first he's afraid that he doesn't have them anymore, but eventually fishes out the old pair of swimming trunks that he's hung onto, despite not using them since he was seven, just in case. At the time they were way too big and floppy, just like those under-inflated arm rings, but now it seems they just about fit. No plastic rings this time, Angel will hold him with real arms that are strong and can keep him safe, just like she lifted him out of bed this morning! He takes one careful breath, then slips the swim trunks on, under his favorite dark-grey jeans that match his fur, and a black T-shirt that has seen enough wear to be comfortable.

There's still a little while to go, so he looks through the book shelf beside the bed. Angel knows he likes comics and he was able to persuade her to buy him something he's always wanted, a big full collectors edition of Akira, the one in six volumes that he always wanted. Although there are some furs who might say it's a little adult for an almost twelve year old, Leo feels that he witnessed for himself a minor miracle as Angel passed the guy at the till the right number of notes and repeated back to him all of the same things Leo just told her, about the amazingly detailed artwork, and the unique motorcycles, and the post-apocalyptic vision. Then just as soon as they were out of sight of the store, she handed him the plastic bag, which was a little too heavy, really. He admires the iconic cover, with its ambiguous shiny black sphere of destruction, flicks through the fresh-edged pages. You can still smell the ink, and the corners aren't rounded, not like the sort of second-hand junk that he usually used to see. It's a small strange thing to get all emotional over, but it's yet another reminder that things have changed. Maybe he can change too? When Angel knocks, another simple act of respect that most people take for granted, he's busily flipping through the section in which one of the characters becomes so powerful that his body is no longer able to sustain it and begins to incorporate more sturdy materials, dragging up shielded cables and sections of deck plate from a carrier ship. Though the action is exciting, he puts it aside quickly and says "Come in!" and she waits patiently until he's done before opening the door. "Are you ready to go love?" Angel purrs. She's changed into a graceful light-blue shirt with a low neckline and a sort of embroidered knit-work around the collar, to match her own jeans, and she seems happy to find him enjoying the really rather expensive comic-book purchase. Leo takes a last quick look at comic open on the bed. Sometimes the story starts with bad things (like the destruction of Neo-Tokyo!) but then an adventure can happen anyway. "I'm ready... I guess," he asserts, trying to be brave, like one of the characters in the story.

The aquatic leisure center is much closer than Leo imagined, barely a ten or fifteen minute drive, but when your new mum is a true fitness poster-child, of course she'd consider close proximity to a pool important. She swims all the time, of course he should have thought of it; but he expected a longer trip to give him time prepare himself. "Stop gnawing on the seat-belt honey." "Sorry mum." Inevitably, there's a large and crowded parking lot, but not too many cars, not this early. Leo hops out boldly, but then starts tugging at his inseam where it covers togs, trying to adjust everything out to a more comfortable angle. Perhaps he should have worn something looser than the jeans. "C'mon, don't be nervous. You'll be getting changed out of them in about ten minutes, right?" The building has an ambitiously wide entry that speaks to an over-design of public amenities and a desire to disguise the enormous dimensions of a full-size swimming pool. There's a secretary at a desk who manages payments and bookings, and seems to recognize Angel, because they have a quick moment of conversation and the secretary smiles at her as she checks in. Angel has some form of long-term pass, so she only has to buy one extra ticket, for Leo. She hugs him reassuringly, as they head in and skirt the side of the pool area, both canine and feline making their way to the changing cubicles. The air has that unique indoor pool smell that makes whiskers flex, slightly muggy, just a little bit warm and humid, with a faint tinge of chlorine granules added to keep the water clean. Leo sniffs at the scent whilst Angel finds it pleasingly familiar. The cubicles seem to date from some earlier era of aquatic design, charmingly retro little spaces made of heavy grainy tile with little half-height walls to either side in the front, around a narrow gap in the middle that lets you duck in and out. The original layout has been expanded by adding out a more modern wide-open locker room, with the sheet-metal cabinets in banks. It's really quite a clever design, allowing parents to keep an eye on their kids if required from the main room, with the half-height walls providing enough privacy that you can stand behind them and get changed, without anyone having the opportunity to get up to no good. A proper male only and female only area spread off to the left and right with matching signage, but this central space provides an effective compromise for situations with small children that would otherwise become quite awkward. Leo takes next to no time to change, because all he has to do is strip his jeans off and put them in a swimming bag of water-resistant cloth that Angel has bought along as part of her usual gear, but he steps inside one of the cubicles first, for the sake of some perception of propriety. Angel, on the other hand, just stands in front of her chosen locker in the main area. She knows that she looks all good and has nothing to be embarrassed about, not with her body, so she isn't concerned whether anyone else gets a look-in. Leo steps out, to be greeted immediately by her as she finishes putting the last of her possessions in the locker. She's wearing a remarkable bikini decorated to look like a cut-out of the Union Jack, so the main vertical red bar runs down the middle to bisect her panties, and the matching cross-bar effectively censors her chest, whilst assorted secondary lines of white and fields of blue fill up, and indeed fill out, the remainder of the material. Her muscles are crisply and precisely ripped. Leo, fortunately, is just a little too young to get the wrong impression, and instead is simply very, very proud that that this awesome lioness is his mum! Why, it's almost enough to make him not worried about swimming in all that water. She can definitely fish him out, and maybe also defeat crocodiles and plesiosaurs and that angry bitey thing he saw in the movie that he can't remember the name of! Well, okay, maybe she would need a spear for that one, it was pretty big. "It's good to see those trunks still fit you so well," she interrupts, derailing his train of fantastical thought. "But now we need to introduce you to water again. Carefully of course." She's teasing him just a bit, but it takes the edge off.

The complex has several pools, and the one she leads him to is a moderately large twenty-five or so meter long rectangle, and relatively shallow compared to the others. It's mainly for learning or kids classes, and this early in the day is mostly empty except for the lifeguard, a big older mare in a deeply conservative swimsuit with dark coarse horse-hair, who keeps a watchful eye on limited proceedings. A number of smaller children, mostly ten and below, are being given basic lessons in one end nearest to her, but they don't venture out far, and so apart from one or two other random swimmers they pretty much have the entire other end to themselves. Deserted isn't perhaps quite the word, but it's pretty much near optimal conditions for teaching a nervous twelve year-old wolf how to swim, if not properly then at least doggy-style that will keep him afloat in the event of an unexpected immersion. Angel carefully reminds herself that he's old enough that she shouldn't talk down to him, and that he does have at least some experience, prior to his misadventure with water-wings that turned out to be more of a flightless bird.

That's why she's not going to risk embarrassing him by putting him in with that little kiddie class. It was an option, and one she checked before planning all of this, but she can immediately see it's not the right approach. If she just shows him how, she's certain he'll pick it up swiftly. "Aren't we lucky, it looks like we mostly have the whole pool to ourselves." "That sounds good, I guess," responds Leo doubtfully. She slithers into the pool, sitting on the edge and then twisting sideways to slide in with a certain effortlessness born of much practice, then turns around and positions herself ready to catch him up if anything should happen. "Come on Leo, jump in!" "What if I sink?" "That's what I'm here for! You won't sink honey, I'll catch you so you stay above the water!" She holds out her arms encouragingly. The wolf cub finds himself shaking slightly, having second and third and indeed fourth thoughts about it, but braces himself with a few deep breaths. So, if he's going to do this, he should do it right. He walks up to the edge of the pool, feeling little graven ridges to the tile beneath his paw-pads designed to improve traction against the slippery ceramic, carefully judges the distance, then takes a look at her for a moment to make sure he's certain, and jumps into the tepidly lukewarm water with a splash. Angel's swift paws catch him up, pressing against his chest, preventing him from going in all the way and holding him up so he's almost level with him. The water buoys him up, meaning that she doesn't have to exert much pressure just to hold him up there, and she grins at him with a flash of teeth and a look that wouldn't be amiss on a feral lioness embracing her beloved prey. "Alright, you're in and ready to go! Show me a doggy paddle! No puns intended there Leo." He gets used to the oddly familiar sensation of the warm water pressing inward against his limbs and working its way gradually into his fur, and suddenly remembers how excited he was when he was a kit about going to the water-park, even though it almost never happened, and he couldn't really swim, just paddle about in the absurdly shallow kiddie pool with various floats. He kicks his arms and legs in a half-remembered way, and much to his own surprise, generates a modest amount of thrust against the water, whilst Angel gives him tips on how to do it better until she's satisfied that he probably could reach the pool edge and get out, in the event of emergency. "You need to move one leg and the opposite arm in, at the same time you move the other arm and leg out. That way you don't end up trying to go in two directions at once and tangling yourself up. Yes, like that! Remember, what you're trying to do is push against the water, to help make yourself move. Any bits of you that aren't pushing against the water, you try to make them as streamlined as possible, so you can slither through the water and not get slowed down."

Soon she is barely supporting him at all, and his doggy-paddle is really quite decent, more toward the freestyle end of the spectrum. He keeps his head above water and pants with tongue out as he goes, but learning the whole synchronized breathing thing is probably just a little bit too risky for a single lesson, given how easily it can go wrong with one mistimed inhaled mouthful of water. "They call it kicking, but it isn't really. If you go flailing about kicking really hard, you just get tired out and don't really go anywhere. It's better to sort of move more slowly and forcefully, so you can get the most possible push out of it. If you ever get tired and can't swim anymore, try to stay calm and remember that most animals almost float by themselves anyway. So you only need to swim a very little bit to just keep floating in place, while you recover your strength." Once she's certain that he mostly has the hang of it, she gets him to hold the edge of the pool with his paws and just practice how to move in the water, kicking his legs while moving paw-over-paw up and down the length of the pool. That way he can sort of swim by himself without too much in the way of risk, as she follows him up and down sleekly at short distance with a casual expertise, showing him various common strokes used to get through the water. He has to take a break and clamber out every once in a while, because he is only twelve, so while he rests poolside, she playfully does various entertaining things that she couldn't really justify in the course of a normal training session. He laughs out loud when she shows him 'swimming like a seal' and glides about underwater, then pops her head up out of the water and makes a ridiculous noise as though demanding a reward of fish for her antics. With whiskers, short cropped wet hair on her head and eyes open anime-wide, she looks uncannily like an actual seal from front-on, if a seal ever existed that had honey-gold fur with paler highlights on muzzle and chest. Soon he's able to swim by himself, admittedly alongside the edge and with it in easy range, just in case something should happen, but definitely not touching it. "You're doing great there, son!" she praises him, a little self-conscious about calling him son. "If you keep learning at this rate, you'll be doing breast-stroke and back-stoke in no time."

His visibly increasing confidence is its own reward, even if she daren't keep her eyes off him for more than a moment, because she intends to keep her promise to keep him safe. "I think I can do a lap!" he exclaims ambitiously, as they swap places and she sits up on the edge to maintain her watchful gaze, then changes her mind and instead walks along beside him, trying to keep him in range of an easy rescue if he's overreaching. It doesn't look like he'll need it, but he does seem to tend to overconfidence a little, possibly just because no-one's ever shown real trust in him before, or assumed he actually could achieve anything. "Just you wait, I'll swim twenty laps one day!" he exclaims when he reaches one end of the pool, never mind that technically he started in the middle, so really it's more like half. This pretty much confirms her earlier estimate of the situation.

As he's paddling back slowly to complete the one lap he has done, twenty being more realistically a goal for another day, Angel becomes aware of a familiar outline in her peripheral vision. "Hi there, sister," comes a warming and pleasantly growly voice. Standing next to her and having moved up unexpectedly whilst she was keeping a close on Leo, is a tall female hyena with a graphically muscular build, filling in the outlines of a dark green bikini with randomly placed white speckles. She flicks a compact mass of frizzy dirty-blonde hair, in real African hyena style, then graces them with a ravishing smile and plenitude of brilliantly whitened teeth. Just as you'd expect, she has the characteristic brown spots against sandy-colored short fur, possibly why she's chosen that swimwear pattern as a sort of contract. "Oh my goodness, Racheal! It's been weeks, how have you been?" "Oh, I'm good. Pumping iron, instructing others and seeing friends. How's your job doing?" "Routine, manageable, very good pay... what's not to like?" "Always great to hear. So, who's the little one? Looking after someones kid on the weekend?" "That's my kid. His name is Leo. I'm giving him a swimming lesson." Explaining the whole thing, how she came to run into him and his horrid mother, takes a bit of a while but Leo seems to have adapted happily to aquatic existence, and even has the sense to know when to take a break, which is more than she could say for most children. They make for a bit of a contrast, lioness and hyena hanging out at the side of the pool watching a wolf cub swim, but as Angel would be the first to make the distinction, she's an English lioness, as much as Rachael's an English hyena, despite her distinctive looks. Their ancestors may have come from roughly the same distant continent about half a millennium apart, Angel's as part of a pride or three of imported warriors arrived just in time to be shown supporting shields for the crown in heraldic blazons, while Racheal's people arrived under much more straitened circumstances that could only with the utmost charity be described merely as indenture, but they're both imports. The next time Leo comes ashore and Angel dries his stubbly fur off a little with a towel, Rachael introduces herself. "You're very lucky to be living with Angel. Why, we've known each other since we were both cubs together and the other girls made fun of us for being tall!" She's editing that down a bit and in her case it wasn't entirely about being tall, but still, it's close enough to the facts of the matter. Angel stood up for her that day like one of her warrior ancestors and they've been friends ever since.

Leo is a tiny bit shy, but introduces himself and goes immediately to the predictable declaration of his age, eleven but almost twelve in a few days' time. Rachael knows how that goes and so takes him quite seriously, which seems to be exactly the right thing to do. After they've all dried off a little and had a bit of a chat, Leo solemnly declares that he is going to swim one more time but that he is getting a bit tired, so he will be extra careful and climb out if he starts to get too worn out. After some encouragement from the two older girls, Angel releases Leo from her toweled grasp like an undersized fish being released back into the waterway. Doggy-paddling instincts appear to kick in again just fine, and so while he half-plays, half-swims, trying to have as much fun as he can, Angel and Racheal have a catch up. "So, uh, does this bikini make my breasts look bigger?" Rachael asks discreetly from the corner of her mouth, trying to keep her voice low so the kid won't overhear. "Well, yeah," grins Angel. "That it does. In many different ways." "Thanks, because it was totally on offer!" Rachael exclaims happily. "A tenner well spent! Though if I'd known you'd have a kid with you, I would've worn something less revealing." "Oh, don't worry about it. He doesn't seem to mind at all. Or even really notice much. But, you still seeing that Rex guy?" "Well yeah, I still am, but it's a real choir keeping in touch with him. What about yourself?" "I would've thought you'd know by now that me and relationships don't really work. Besides, I've got a new man in my life now - even if he is only 'almost twelve'." Just then Leo swims up to the side of the pool between them, where he grips it for support. "I'm still going to do twenty laps one day," he boasts. "Just, maybe not quite today yet."

Rachael, it seems, is invited round for tea by default, whenever. Tall girls gotta stick together. A quick discussion of how best to arrange things reaches a compromise that they should all take Angel's car, since she lives the closest to the pool, and that way Rachael can get back most quickly as and when required simply by hopping any suitable public transport. The journey goes by surprisingly quickly for Leo, mainly because he has Racheal to talk to. He sits next to her in the back of the car, where he eagerly tells her about his lessons at school and, just as tellingly, does not gnaw on the seat-belt even once. She seems interested to see how much things have changed since their day, not that was as long ago as one might think. Once they arrive back at the house, Angel searches for the door-key as you do and they all eagerly bustle back inside, just like, thinks Leo, a real family returning home! Although Rachael has to get penciled in as the somewhat older big sister. But that's not too hard to imagine. In the kitchen, Rachael pulls up a chair and settles herself down at the table, clearly at home with the layout of the place and having visited before. Angel fills the kettle with water from the sink and places it back on its power-stand, now in a slightly safer place than the one it used to occupy, to heat things up and get the boiling process underway.

Leo attempts to help out by somewhat precipitously ascending a tall kitchen stool, having seen at some point that more elaborate ceramic mugs and tea-cups are kept in the top cupboard. Angel notices him stretching out sideways to try and reach the handle and places her paws gently on his shoulders, to stabilize the effort before something can go wrong. "Don't worry about getting the cups down love, I'll take care of those," she advises. There wasn't enough space to move everything down to more convenient heights, so she'd left the mugs where they were, thinking that a kid probably wouldn't need tea much. Perhaps a mistake, given they're in the former British Empire, which used to practically run on the stuff and still does. But you live, you learn. "Would you like some red 'bush tea' to drink?" she suggests. "Or I could make you some hot chocolate." Leo ponders the decision seriously, as though it were a major life choice of some kind. "I would like some red bush, please," he concludes, pleased to be given a say in this important issue. He then jumps dangerously down from the stool and practically springs into one of the smaller chairs free at the table. It appears that despite an Angel's best efforts, it's not possible to keep him entirely safe all the time. Finding herself settled down opposite the enthusiastic little wolf, Rachael takes up the subject of his school lessons again, since he seems to enjoy talking about them. "I wouldn't mind hearing what they do for history lessons these days, Leo. Back when I was a girl, I remember enjoying them a lot. All that real-life daring, like a story but true." It's a suitably open-ended invitation. "At the moment we're learning about the war! The big one. And how you shouldn't believe everything people say, because they use propaganda, only it's not to tell you the truth but to make you do what they want!"

She can kind of see how he might fixate on that part of it. If half of what Angel vaguely attributed to his mother was true, there was a lot of telling of things that weren't true. And of course, well, hyena, right here, distinctly African looking. It may be safer to change the subject. While the two converse, Angel fetches some china plates and mugs down from the top cupboard, not one of the mugs alike, which is part of the charm. Rummaging in the fridge, she cracks open a snap-lock plastic container with several layers of rich dark chocolate brownies resting squared on grease-proof paper, and puts three on a plate, then four after taking Leo's probable eating habits and energy usage into consideration. Meanwhile the water has approached boiling, bubbles vigorously seething and rising, since they only need enough water for three cups. She dexterously retrieves the kettle just as it goes 'click' to indicate it's finished, steam rising, and pours carefully calculated levels of hot water into each cup, before adding a separate tea-bag on a string to each one. This is an essential step which is too often overlooked by non tea-drinkers, and she finds herself almost humming as she arranges everything to converge and be ready at the same time. Milk is of course available, should it be needed. "Here we are! Tea and my famous homemade brownies," she announces. "None better." "Can I get some cold water with mine? It'll cool it down quicker." "Sure thing sis. You know I always forget."

"Why do you call her sister?" interrupts Leo curiously. It's a little rude, the audacity or maybe just the tactlessness of the young, but he quickly backtracks by adding, "if you don't mind me asking?" to cover up unspoken observations that they're clearly not related, despite being nominally from the same ecosystem. "Well back when me and Angel were cubs, we were both very close," explains Rachael." You know in many ways we were almost like sisters. We met up in primary school when we were both only seven years old." "Oh, that was such a fun time," Angel reminisces happily. "We had so much in common with each other and we got along like two peas in a pod. Both of our families got along very well too, lots of staying over with each other and hanging out together." "I'll never forget the time I got to go to Italy with Angel and her family. Not to mention all those countless sleep overs we had." Leo make various non-committal affirmative noises around a mouthful of brownie. His opening conversational gambit may have gone wrong, but he's not making the same mistake twice. Rachael sees him trying to practically inhale the entire brownie in one go, and is reminded of her own, left untouched when she was distracted by his interjection. Tempted, she takes a small bite of it and sighs delightedly. "Mmmmm. These brownies of yours get nicer all the time." "That's just your training regime talking. But still, much obliged sis. Leo helped me make the new batch, didn't you Leo?" Leo smiles slightly and collects another brownie from the plate before he's even finished the first one completely, placing it next to his bush tea as though it might disappear if he looks away.

Twenty or so minutes of conversation exhausts both beverages and brownies, with Angel having to go and get another one after seeing Leo eyeing the half-eaten remainder of Rachael's like, well, a young wolf that has spotted a delicious brownie. She swears silently to herself that it's a one-off thing and she'll have a word with him later about the importance of self-restraint when it comes to keeping a healthy diet. She and Angel have only had the one each, after all. Watching him make a quite respectable effort to nibble small pieces, and not just wipe the whole thing out in one go, brings an unexpected upsurge of love to fully restore her charity. He's clearly trying his best, just very hungry. Rachael glances at the clock and sighs to herself. "Well, duty calls," she excuses, half-rising from her chair but doubtless hoping for some excuse to arise that will justify polishing off the brownie. "I've a new mare from Marevalley, oh the irony, to instruct in an exercise routine to try and melt away the pounds. Let us simply say that she has not placed anywhere in the steeplechase for a good few decades now." "Oh well, it was still great seeing you. I don't know when but hopefully I try and arrange a date where we can catch up." "Sounds like a plan," responds Rachael with a playful little finger-snap gesture. "Goodbye Miss Rachael, it was really great meeting you!" blurts Leo all suddenly when it becomes apparent that she's leaving and some sort of farewell is expected. "Same to you too kiddo, I'll see you around," Rachael responds, giving Leo's headfur a quick ruffle before she heads for the door. It seems grown-ups are irresistibly attracted to the headfur.

Several hours later, as Leo sits on his bed playing a game of StarFox on his 3DS (not the lame new one where Fox is a dumbass, but one of the retro ones where he's cool, purchased the same day as the Akira comic books and various other pop culture furnishings) he's startled by a light knock on the door and nearly gets clipped by incoming fire before he can hit pause. "Come in!" he exclaims, his voice squeaking slightly just because he's surprised. Okay, so he's not exactly some macho Wolf O'Donnell quite yet. Angel hesitantly enters. "Hey Leo! While the going's good, I should let you know that I'm going to be out for a few hours this evening. I have an important meeting I couldn't re-schedule." "Oh? What happened?" exclaims Leo, morbidly interested in spite of his better judgment. In his experience, being called suddenly to an unavoidable meeting is nothing good and tends to involve detentions and school principals of various denominations. "Oh, it's just for my job. Anyhow, Racheal will be round to keep an eye on you." "That's great! I liked having her over to visit. She was nice." "Well, I'm glad you think so. Want to help me make some dinner before I go?" "What are we making?" Leo asks eagerly, keen to help. He likes cooking and wishes someone had taught him about it earlier. You can make food, not just buy it! It's really quite amazing. "We have all the ingredients for a vegetarian version of spaghetti bolognese. I know you prefer the traditional 'noodles with red meaty sauce' but there isn't any mince handy." "Vegetarian is close enough! It still sounds great." "Well come along then. To the kitchen!" She strikes a mock-heroic pose. Leo conscientiously saves the game and switches off his 3DS before he goes. He can continue the campaign again at any time, but this is food, and is a serious matter.