CAD4-041
Barista: Jericho Myerscough
Date: Jan-11-2020
Receipt: CAD4-041
Subject: Business as Usual
The Beast’s made itself at home. Takes up half the damn room just lying there, all stretched out like some old lord surveying his estate.
Fur’s still ghost-white. Ears still tipped red, like old blood. But the shadows that clung to him? Gone.
Not sure if that’s better or worse.
Eoin hasn’t kicked him out, so I’m guessing they’ve come to some sort of understanding. Or maybe Eoin’s just too knackered to argue with a spectral omen of death. Hard to say.
As for the rest of us—
Katherine’s right as rain. Which is a miracle, considering how much of her was on the outside last night. A few pints of blood later and she’s back to smiling and fluttering about, though I did catch her giving the hound a wary side-eye. Smart girl.
Julia’s quiet. Not in a bad way. Just—thoughtful. Still got that glow, like she’s carrying a piece of last night with her. Can’t say I blame her. If a dog like that decided I was its chosen handler, I’d be thinking about it too.
Ichabod’s sulking. Keeps muttering about ‘otherworldly interference’ and ‘rules of magic being ignored.’ Between you and me? He’s just cheesed off his usual tricks failed. Even the unusual ones. Man doesn’t like being upstaged—especially by a dog.
Travis is still processing. Which, for him, means coffee and staring into the middle distance—like some grizzled cowboy fresh off chasing the horizon. Fuck off. He knows he was born in Rochester, right?
And me?
I’m just waiting to see how long it takes before someone suggests putting a collar on the damn thing.
Place your bets now. Might even start a book on it—odds on Eoin’s the first to crack.
Hell, the inn could use a cuddly little mascot. If Nikki were here—
Fuck.
If Nikki were here, she’d already have the sod trained, named, and answering to her whistle.
Always loved strays. Always took them in—clearly.