An Early August Morning

There had never been a time that Candor hadn't been with the old man, not as far as he could remember. Well, other than that one time he snuck out past the garden to play by the creek (there were all sorts of bugs around there)... he really had never strayed far from old Mistamakay's watchful gaze. The old man rarely went out, but when he did, he would happily bring the little fox with him. In fact, when Mistamakay had roused him earlier that morning, he was sure they were going on another trip into town. He would've felt more excited about it if it hadn't been so early, really... where was the sense in getting up when the sun had barely done so itself? Still, he went along with the old man, albeit a bit reluctantly...

Perhaps it had shown too much though, his reluctance... The old man always did tell him that his expression was far too honest for a fox. But, he always said it with a warm chuckle or a smile, maybe even an affectionate rub of the ears (which Candor really did enjoy every now and again). It had never occurred to him that perhaps such honesty could be a bad thing.

And, really, morning wasn't all so bad... It was far too hot these days, "hotter than it usually is this time of year," according to Mistamakay. Candor wasn't all too sure if he liked this whole 'August' business, but he had to admit that morning was a lot more bearable than late afternoon, with the sun directly overhead. If only he hadn't been so grumpy about getting up early... Maybe things would be different then.

...But really, it wasn't his fault! He wasn't the best at going to bed on time even in the best conditions, but it was fine since he could usually make up for it by sleeping in the daytime. The old man even enjoyed an afternoon nap or two as well every once in a while, so he never really felt too odd about it. So, as he tended to do these days, he had been up quite late the night before. It especially couldn't be helped, last night... he had most definitely heard mice skittering around in the walls. Had he known Mistamakay wanted to wake at one most unreasonable hour, he might've let the mice wait for another night. He had really been hoping to catch one last night... But, certainly, he might've been persuaded to leave his pursuits a bit earlier if he had known. 

But he hadn't known, and thus, he had spent quite a bit of the night awake. And, because of that, waking up so early had left him quite irritable. So, as he followed the old man, who seemed to have been in a very good mood, out into the cool, morning air, dragging his paws the entire way, it made a lot of sense that Mistamakay took notice of his discontent. Maybe that was why, instead of a trip into town, the old man had brought him to Mrs. Presley's house. He hadn't quite been listening, though it seemed like Mistamakay was going to pick something up there. He figured he would find out what it was once they got there. Except, the old man left without him, Mrs. Presley's two sons going with him instead. He couldn't believe it! How could the old man leave him behind like this?

It upset him quite a bit, and he had spent a good portion of the morning in a foul mood, quite distressed. He had even growled at Mrs. Presley's stupid daughter, which he did feel a bit bad about now... but to be fair, she was quite annoying. Luckily, Mrs. Presley had told her to leave him alone, but he still couldn't quite bring himself to forgive either of them. He couldn't even look at Mrs. Presley, who had been the one to distract him as the old man was leaving earlier. It was nothing short of betrayal. He refused to go back over to her, and though he was quite sleepy, he didn't dare to let himself fall asleep. He simply sat by the entryway, glaring drowsily at the space under the door as he waited for the silly old man to come back already. He fully intended to stay there until Mistamakay returned... that was, until he took note of the skittering in Mrs. Presley's walls. A very... familiar sound.

It seemed Mistamakay wasn't the only one with a mouse problem. His ears twitched as he heard another little *scratch, scratch* through the walls, and he really couldn't stand it anymore. He stood up, abandoning his post by the door. Whatever, he wasn't patient enough for it anyway. The old man was taking too long... why should he be stuck here waiting for him? He began tracking the mice, which had definitely been out and about last night. He made it to the kitchen, which the mice had apparently decided belonged to them. Their smell was everywhere... and yet they were nowhere to be seen. 

He huffed, leaving as he saw Mrs. Presley. Whatever... maybe he would just take a nap. Time would pass faster that way anyway... He curled up at behind a cushiony looking chair, falling asleep quite quickly. He really had been quite exhausted from the night before...

He woke a couple of hours later feeling significantly more energized. The nap had been a good choice, it seemed. He stretched, sniffing the air. It seemed Mrs. Presley was making breakfast...which could only mean good things for him. Perhaps he could find it in himself to forgive her... He went back to the kitchen, where Mrs. Presley was cooking something that smelled delicious as her wretched little girl set the table. He pretended to ignore both of them, sniffing at the floor.

Well, he started out pretending, but he was happily distracted by the scent of mice trails going every which way. Really, what had Mrs. Presley been doing? She had quite the colony of mice living in her home. Well, he supposed he could help out a bit... He began following one specific trail... maybe he could find their hiding place! He became completely absorbed in the task, his mood improving immensely with each minute that passed. He didn't even pay too much mind to the way the girl's voice got all high when she finally noticed him. 

Candor darted happily around the kitchen, ignoring Mrs. Presley's girl as she tried to bother him again and again. Couldn't she see that he was busy? He trailed around the table leg, nose glued to the floor. A mouse had come right through here...

He stopped abruptly when the girl knelt down in front of him. She had a smile on her face, and was cooing with a gentle, cloying tone. He eyed her distastefully. 

"Hi baby..." She said, her voice high and soft. First of all, he wasn't a baby! He was already 2 and a half months old, and Mistamakay always talked about how much and how well he had grown in that time. Secondly, he really didn't like it when she spoke like this... but she always did for some reason. Maybe she thought he couldn't hear her otherwise, he did tend to ignore her... Regardless, it was annoying.

She reached out to pet him, and he felt the annoyance prick in his chest. She always did whatever she wanted. He didn't like the way her fingers ran through his fur without warning like this. It made him uncomfortable, like he'd dipped his tail into something sticky. He pulled back from her, making a small sound of discontent as he shook off the feeling.

"Heyyy-! Candor...!" She whined as he wiggled away from her grasp. He ignored the distraught look on her face.

"Eloise, darling, just let him be for now. You should be eating your breakfast." The angelic voice of Mrs. Presley floated over to them, and he slinked over to her chair. Alright, he definitely could forgive her. He truly did like Mrs. Presley, after all. She always had bits for him to eat. She was a wider-set, jolly woman, with rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes. She always had her messy blonde curls tied up with a strip of cloth. It was hard for him to believe that the shrill-voiced, scrawny Eloise was her daughter. He tilted his head up to stare at Mrs. Presley, licking his chops as he picked up on the scent of eggs wafting down from the table. The mice could most definitely wait...Mrs. Presley chuckled warmly at him as Eloise begrudgingly returned to her seat. Candor's ears twitched as he heard the clinking of silverware against plates. He stared at Mrs. Presley as she ate, watching as the food went from her fork to her mouth. He tilted his head slightly, hoping to catch her attention. Silly Mrs. Presley. She must have forgotten about him. He was starting to grow impatient, and he readjusted his position slightly, walking his front paws back a tiny bit as he made a little sound to remind her of his presence. 

Suddenly, he heard Eloise clicking her tongue gently, and he turned his head to see her reaching her hand down below the table, a small piece of bread in hand. He gave one last glance at Mrs. Presley, huffing softly as he sprung back to his feet and darted over to snatch the food from Eloise's fingers. He did appreciate her willingness to share, but the food never tasted as good when it came from her... He could smell her delight as it filled the air around her, and it filled him with an unreasonable sense of annoyance. Still, when she snuck him another bit of food, and then another, it wasn't as if he could really refuse... He happily gobbled down a couple of berries and a bit of egg, his initial distaste with the girl dissipating. She wasn't so bad, when she was quiet... He even let her scratch behind his ears a couple of times. He let out a contented puff of air, though he tried to act like he wasn't enjoying it at all. Didn't want to make her think she could always get away with this...

He pretended to ignore Eloise's growing excitement as he caught Mrs. Presley's eye once more. She smiled at him, and he scampered back over to her seat, gladly leaving Eloise behind. She laughed softly, before finally slipping him a little bite of sausage. He made a happy sound in the back of his throat, munching on it greedily. 

"There you go, Candor. Not too fast, or you'll choke, silly thing..." She murmured, giving a little rub between his ears. He had already scarfed down the meat before she'd even finished speaking, and he looked back up at her expectantly, licking his chops. She sighed, shaking her head. "Goodness... Mr. Mckay is going to wonder why you're so fattened up when he comes back..." She said with a smile, tossing a small bit of egg to him from her plate. This was why he liked her so much. 

"Mother, Anthony's going to be here soon, right?" Eloise asked, looking hopeful. 

Candor paused, his ears twitching. 'Anthony...' He'd heard that name a lot recently. The old man liked to talk about him, saying that Candor would enjoy playing with him. As long as this 'Anthony' boy wasn't annoying like Eloise, he was sure he could tolerate him just fine. Still, he liked the old man best, even if he couldn't play with him very much.

Mrs. Presley set down her fork, nodding. "He should arrive in the village soon, yes, but you shouldn't bother him today. I'm sure he's exhausted from his journey here. He's got some settling in to do before school starts in a few weeks."

Eloise's tone grew whiny. "What? Why do Roger and Lionel get to see him then?" She looked pleadingly at her mother, outraged by the unjustness of it all. 

Mrs. Presley sighed. "Eloise... don't whine. Your brothers are helping Mr. Mckay to pick Anthony up from town. You're the one who said you wanted to stay and help watch Candor, didn't you?

Eloise just grumbled, pushing her food around her plate. She couldn't really argue with that.

So, this 'Anthony' was the reason Mistamakay had left him here? He was arriving... today? Candor glanced back at Eloise, who seemed to have completely forgotten about him now. Was 'Anthony' really so good? It seemed even the wretched Eloise liked him even better than she liked Candor... not that he exactly hated having her attention pulled away for him for a moment, but..

Something occurred to him, as he watched Eloise grumble. What if the old man liked 'Anthony' more than he liked Candor as well? What if he didn't want him anymore? He supposed that he had been rather naughty lately... not that it was his fault that the cushions were so easy to tear. Besides, how was he supposed to know they were full of feathers??? And, why were feathers so much fun to pull out of cushions if he wasn't meant to do it? Was that why he had been left behind here? What if the old man wasn't coming back? Ugh... it was too late to regret it now. He tried to ignore his anxieties. The old man was very kind. He would not discard him so easily just because he had an 'Anthony' now... right?

His attention was stolen once more as Mrs. Presley slipped another piece of sausage to the floor. He discarded the uncertain thoughts, by her side in an instant as he practically inhaled the meat. Mrs. Presley stroked his fur, smiling down at him affectionately. He stayed in place for a moment, allowing her to pet him for a bit until he had had enough. In the blink of an eye, he darted away, looking for something else to do. Sometimes, it felt like there was static building up under his skin when someone pet him for too long. It made him very uncomfortable, filling him with an ugly sort of energy that tingled beneath his fur, like ants running around in his veins. Still, the old man had told him that biting wasn't allowed, so he had no choice but to simply escape whenever that feeling welled up in him. He dashed around the room, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of her touch. 

Soon enough, he found something else to distract himself with. There was a shiny black beetle making its way across the floor. He stared at it from a small distance, getting down close to the ground. Really... Mrs. Presley had far too many little pests in her life. He focused in on it, making some small noises in excitement as he wound himself up, springing up quickly and pouncing on it. The beetle never stood a chance, and he stared triumphantly at his catch, sniffing at it. It didn't smell particularly good, but he snatched it up into his jaws anyway, crunching at it. That was what you were supposed to do with your catch, after all. He had seen a fat tabby doing the same with a spider a while back.

"Candor? What is that you're eating?" Mrs. Presley stood up, her voice sounding slightly alarmed. Candor continued to munch on the bug, side-eyeing Mrs. Presley warily as she moved closer to him. Before she could reach him, he bolted away, feeling absolutely alive with the thrill of it. He yelped happily as he darted behind a chair, hunkering down low as he watched her approach. He felt the excitement bubbling up in his chest as he watched her draw nearer, one step, and then the next... Ha... she would never see him coming! Suddenly, he sprung out from his hiding place, pouncing on her foot. He made a series of little sounds in the back of his throat as he jumped ferociously at her foot again and again, biting at her sock. He was careful though, making sure not to hurt her. He pretended to kill the evil sock-monster, and Mrs. Presley laughed. He let out a satisfied puff of air, feeling proud. His fluffy tail swished behind him as Mrs. Presley poked his nose with her foot. 

"Stop it, you silly little thing..." She said, though she was still laughing. Eloise was laughing as well, from her seat. Candor sneezed, blinking up at her as he sat back. Stop? She wanted him to stop, but she was smiling and laughing, which was supposed to mean she was happy, right? She didn't make sense sometimes. Perhaps the mice were getting to her.

She sighed, smiling and shaking her head as she crouched down. "Look at you... what were you eating earlier, hm? You shouldn't eat random things from off the floor..." She scolded warmly, petting his head a couple of times. Luckily, it had been a beetle, not a random thing. She really didn't need to worry so much...

"And don't attack my feet, alright? I need those!" She said, tapping his nose with her finger. He made a small noise before gently biting at it and licking it a few times. It tasted like sausage from breakfast. Obviously, her feet were still just fine. Didn't she know that he wasn't actually going to kill her feet? Silly Mrs. Presley. It was like she lacked common sense sometimes.

"Good." She said, as if that was enough reply for her. He had overheard her telling Eloise one time that mothers knew everything, and he wondered if that was how she always seemed to know what he wanted to say even though he couldn't speak. It was very handy, he had to admit. He sneezed again as she stood up, licking his lips a few times. He was about to follow her back to the table, when...

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

There was a quick rapping at the door. Candor's ears perked up immediately, and he sniffed the air as he dashed over, yipping excitedly. He didn't even care enough to feel mad anymore. His old man had returned, and that was enough for him. 

Mrs. Presley laughed as she trailed behind him... really, she was far too slow at the worst of times! Couldn't she just hurry?! He whimpered impatiently, grumbling as he stared at her, stepping in place a few times. As soon as she had gotten the door unlocked and opened a crack, he slipped out, making a series of excited noises as he jumped up at Mistamakay's legs. He was back! He was finally back! His tail wagged as the old man laughed, crouching down to greet him. He stared into the old man's eyes, opening his mouth to scold him.

"Aaaaa...aaa! nnrrrrrr... graaaaAA!" Candor complained. He bit gently at the old man's fingers. How dare he leave him here like this... He should've just brought him to town with him! Didn't the old man know how scared and upset he had been?!? Though he knew Mistamakay wouldn't understand him, he couldn't help but tell him his worries. Perhaps Mrs. Presley would understand, mothers knew everything after all.

"...Is this the surprise you were telling me about?" Candor froze, quieting down as an unfamiliar voice broke through the air, a hint of amusement to his tone.

Candor stared up into the boy's eyes; eyes that twinkled the same way the old man's did when he smiled.

Oh.

So this... was Anthony.