FSE

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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 parents. Honestly, ick. Such dreadful people, 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 parents, 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 parents 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 backtracks quickly 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 back 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.

When Rachael finally arrives some hours later, Leo is busy playing with a tumble of Lego blocks. They're not the result of the same unpremeditated shopping spree that saw him abruptly acquire comic books and a 3DS - rather, they're something Angel found in a plastic bucket at the back of a cupboard, when she thought to go looking, from when she was a kit herself and he cherishes them all the more for it. A brand new set of Legos never has quite that same feel as a well-worn mixture that has been used to make any number of structures in the past.

He's toying with the limitations of the pieces, connecting a single corner edge-spur one above the next to force them to unexpected arrangements of hexagons that hold themselves together, when an unexpectedly loud knock rings out. Rachael apparently has no compunctions about giving the door a decent level of what-for, like a muscular Mary Poppins without the umbrella.

Angel, who has been waiting in the living room for her friend to return, gets the door well before he can, even with a burst of speed that leaves unstable hexagons crumbling downward to carpet behind him. Leo is really eager to see her again for reasons he couldn't quite enunciate even if you asked him, mostly having to do with seeing her as a friend-by-proxy, who is therefore coming over to play with him in a sense, even if it's due to being friends with his new mum first.

Rachael is looking unexpectedly spritely, a gleam in her eye, despite earlier assertions regarding mares from Marevalley and their proximity to draft-horses. She has a casual pale brown vest over dark green and black camo trousers, and reminds Leo of one of the Spice Girls, although naturally he can't recall which one, because that was before his time, and any association is through music video re-runs to which he wasn't, really, paying much attention. Exercise seems to agree with her, and though she's clearly changed into something casual, she's still feeling it.

"Glad you could make it sister," exclaims Angel, one step away from a secret handshake. The lioness smiles and Racheal grins back with that incorrigible expression.

"It's the least I can do for ya. How's the kid?"

"Oh, he's good. Isn't that right Leo?"

"Hi Miss Rachael!"

"Heya Leo, it's good to see you again," she replies sincerely. "We are totally gonna have fun."

"I'd best be off to that meeting now," interjects Angel hastily, sweeping up over her arm a pale, bark-leather carrying bag, purse meets satchel, that she uses to carry documents for these slightly more formal sorts of events. "You have fun Leo! And Rachael, don't get him into too much trouble, okay?" She backs hastily out the door, but it's clear she's not really serious.

Leo gets half a hug from her spare arm, then waves good-bye after they're parted as long as she's still in sight. He hopes that her meeting doesn't take too long, even if it does mean that he gets to hand out with Rachael, because she is the best mum ever and shouldn't have to go to meetings.

Once she's out of view, he looks up at the adult canine who's been left in charge. "Thanks for coming over here to look after me," he says in a very sincere, grown-up way.

"You're welcome kiddo. Now how about we watch a movie together, eh? Or instead we could go for a walk in the park if you like, it's still early."

"I'd rather watch a film," suggests Leo. The park is an unknown quantity, if he's going there for the first time he was rather it was with Angel, during the morning. Maybe next weekend.

"A film it is then," she responds solemnly. She's not run into an almost twelve-year-old who calls them films instead of movies before, but maybe he takes his cinema seriously.

Angel has a mid-sized collection of old DVDs from the days before movie streaming, so as Rachael settles herself comfortably on the couch, he makes his way over to the bookshelf and has a look at the available titles. There's a copy of 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit?', an animated classic that nearly drove its basset-hound detective, acting opposite an unseen imaginary cartoon rabbit, completely batty. Leo feels it draws interesting comparisons with 'Donnie Darko' which he isn't supposed to have seen on account of being too young, for reasons no-one seems to be able to precisely explain. As with the Akira comic books, he managed to watch it anyway and enjoyed the crazy. And then of course there's the black and white 'Harvey' which could be said to be the genesis of both.

"Oh, good choice kid!" Rachel applauds, not quite literally. "That was one of my favourite movies back when I was a cub. Good times."

"Same miss," replies Leo, but sniffles slightly, and hides his face against his sleeve."I used to watch this film a lot with my dad... before he left..."

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that honey," Rachael sighs sympathetically, and places her arm round his shoulder as he climbs back up onto the couch and nestles up next to her. The DVD player whirs as it draws in the disc and loads the selection screen. She gives him a look of infinite understanding.

"At least I have Angel and her family to look after me now, right?" he tries.

"You can count me in love. I'll help look after you however I can."

They spend the evening watching the film. Angel, it turns out, does have popcorn, although Leo is certain that she would not approve of the melted butter and dusting of caster sugar that Rachael lets him have, although she doesn't indulge in the added toppings herself.

Best, perhaps, to conceal the evidence by eating it. But maybe not while laughing at Roger Rabbit, in case you inhale the powdered sugar.

Leo falls asleep after the popcorn but before the end, possibly from the excitement of the day and the unexpected amount of swimming he found he was capable of. He's seen the film often enough not to have missed anything, but when he wakes again some indeterminate amount of time later on, nuzzled into the crook of Rachaels furry shoulder, he's indescribably grateful that she would be willing to just stay still for so long and put her arms around him, not even disturbing him after it was all over. "I love you aunt," he says stupidly whilst he's still fuzzy from sleeping, then feels all embarrassed for just blurting it out like that. "I'm sorry, that was silly."

Rachael is surprised at first, but then just goes with it and sort of rocks him gently a little bit.

"You're welcome. You can call me your aunt any time you like.".

It seems he's rubbing off on her. If Angel is going to be his mum, why shouldn't she be his aunt? It isn't something she's seriously considered likely, having children at some point, she'd need to find a male who wasn't an idiot and it would probably wreck her figure, so it's always been something that might happen later on, not now. But Leo answers all objections, and since it's Angel who has decided to jump in the deep end first and adopt him, maybe she can call him practice for that later on, should it ever happen.

He gets all blushy and smiley at her acceptance, and it's hella cute.

He's still looking a little out of it, though, and so when he lets out a small yawn and curls drowsily back into her shoulder, she gives him a friendly nudge.

"How about you go get some shut-eye?" she suggests. "It's getting late."

Leo glances at the living room clock, which has somehow wound its way around to a nine o'clock right angle without him even noticing. "Yeah... I'm a bit tired... kind of a busy day..."

Though it's not something she'd do every time, she leads him back up the stairs to his bedroom and encourages him to get changed, mainly to make sure that he doesn't fall asleep again halfway through taking his clothes off, or some other 'Funniest Home Videos' type silliness. Plus, she'd feel kind of bad about waking him up again, just to get him into bed.

"If you want, I could read you a story before you go to sleep," she hints, figuring that this will hold his attention long enough to get him tucked in.

"Uh... yeah... I'd really like that. Thanks Rachael!"

"You get changed now. I'll be back up once I've found us a book!"

Leo still has enough presence of mind to shamble into the bathroom to brush his teeth, removing little fragments of popcorn out from between the fangs, and give his mouth a thorough rinse. The yawn in the mirror shows him they still look good, so he wanders his way back into his bedroom and fumbles on his pyjamas, missing a button.

Rachael knocks gently and politely this time, showing all the restraint skipped over on her initial entrance at the front door. Because rationalizing his way through fixing the sequence of buttons is just too hard at this point, he settles for kicking some of the stray Lego blocks from earlier hastily under the bed so she won't step on them, though the bucket sitting there overflowing with bricks is not exactly something anyone could miss.

"Come in!" he replies, giving his head a quick shake to stay alert, and starts climbing in-between the covers, to try and at least look like he's reasonably organized.

There's a chair next to his bed and a desk that he can use for homework and the like, so Rachael re-arranges the layout slightly to seat herself at a comfortable angle overlooking his shoulder.

"You comfy little one?" she checks before she starts reading. He fluffs the sheets up and down one or two times, to get everything all airy and light, then nods his head for her to begin. "Which book would you like me to read?"

The books she's found are a couple of perennial childrens favourites, but then Leo surprises her by reaching under his pillow and pulling out a far more worn and tattered, obviously well-loved volume called 'Tales of the Animal Kingdom." She's heard of it, but never read it personally, so she takes the cracking spine carefully between two fingers and reads the blurb on the back, thinking that she should at least have some idea of what sort of story she'll be telling.

"'Tales of the Animal Kingdom' is a literary classic by Chinese scholar 'Five-Fold Wolf' also known as 'he of the three thousand characters' in some sources, a reference to his desire to re-tell traditional stories simply and without the unnecessary elaboration of many of his fellows. Because of this simple style, resembling a script or play, his works are a favorite for translation to Western languages and are well known internationally."

Well, this seems interesting. She reads on.

"'This book is an anthology that collects several related stories occurring in past dynasties, during a period of time approximately equivalent to the European medieval era. Because of this, the stories are often translated as though they were occurring in this context, with the main character, 'Eight-Lucky-Lion' usually rendered in Romance languages as 'Leonardo the Knight'."

Ah, so that's why Leo likes it so much! It has him as the hero of his own manga, engaging in deeds of derring-do and fighting dangerous monsters.

"The most famous of these is 'Tale of the Wolf Warrior who fought Demons' which seems to reflect certain originally Japanese influences, especially in the code of honorable single combat known as bushido, with its similarities to concurrent Western chivalric ideals."

The rest of the blurb is not very interesting - such and such is a scholar at Cambridge specializing in Oriental Studies and has also translated whatever - so she cracks open the book itself and has a quick look at the contents. It seems unobjectionable enough, in that scholarly translation way that glosses over anything a little too explicit with tact and implications only.

The volume falls open naturally at 'The Wolf Warrior who fought Demons' even before Leo gets a chance to tell her that's the story he wants, so she makes sure he's snug and starts reading. When she forgets that she's narrating, her voice has a thrilling depth and growl that gives the tale a real stir, like something told on a dark night after the poetry contest fizzled, and everyone ordered hot sake instead and sat down to listen to the white-haired old wolf in the corner telling truly epic lies about adventure in his long-ago youth.

"Could you...um, maybe...uh.." interrupts Leo hesitantly.

"Yes, honey?" she suggests, trying to get him to open up.

"Do you think you could maybe, like... cuddle up next to me?" Leo suggests, and then blushes just slightly in a way that reminds her once again that for all his attempts to be grown up, he's still just a kid and there's not even the slightest trace of innuendo there. Rachael chuckles to herself.

"It's fine love, honestly I don't mind at all."

She moves the chair nearer to the bed, and and he wriggles over sideways to the edge so they can get closer together. It puts her tail into easy reach and he snuggles up to it, sort of like a comforter or a toy animal, clutching at the tip with both hands up against his shoulder. She smiles warmly at him and begins again from where she left off, adjusting the length of narrow ribbon that functions ineffectually as a bookmark, to free up the loose pages.

The story seems to start at the end of a previous mission, like a medieval James Badger. Leonardo the mighty slayer of demons has just taken down a terrifying creature escaped from the seventh hell, complete with a picturesque description of the cuts which have finally killed it, how its blood burns the earth, and strange patterns of scaly skin like a snake which can be seen where plates of its armour have been torn. He is being aided in patching up his own injuries by his ally, a celestial lioness who is described in translation as an angel but seems to have all the attributes of a lesser goddess, including luminescent fur that glows like sunlight, and a dress made from a single broad length of silk that winds itself around her of its own accord as though alive. She 'descends from heaven at his impassioned plea, that he may be victorious through his prayers.'

She can see why the medieval translation was tempting. It aligns nicely with the mindset of those times. But she's starting to feel a real sense of recognition, as though she read something like this before or it was told to her, only sort of softer and with fewer details. Perhaps some sort of heavily reduced and redacted kids version of the same, in that enormous Treasury of Stories that she had when she was little? It had at least a hundred well-known childrens stories in it, trimmed to their absolute minimum to fit, some from very far afield. She remembers a few of them, 'The Cub Who Painted Cats' with its prototypical lucky cat from Japan, and 'The Tale of the City of Brass' with its early archaeological expedition in the Arabian Empty quarter. They stuck with her because they were so very different from the usual 'once upon a time' nonsense, just like this.

Her mother used to read her some of the stories. Perhaps that's where she remembers it from?

Leo falls asleep only a couple of pages in, but she keeps reading, trying to track down a memory. A faint "....g'nite aun Ra'chl," followed by the sounds of slow and steady breathing suggest that he's safely off to dreamland and no longer listening, but she finishes the first part aloud, just in case he can still hear her. He still has a grasp on her tail and she wants to let him settle.

Leonardo, meanwhile, has attracted the wrathful ire of a demon queen, who is seemingly slightly attracted to him in a very tsundere sort of way. It's all very 'la dame belle sans merci' which again flows nicely into the medievalist translation. Unable to defeat him in combat, the demon queen is sneaky instead and lures him into a castle, using his courtly manners against him, demanding that he join her at table for drinking and feasting to daze his senses, insisting the he escort her back to her bedchamber as befits a lady, finally biting him and 'squeezing her venoms insidiously into his very veins, laughing as he falls and crawls and struggles but cannot escape.'

The wolf warrior, being a most pure and noble knight, calls upon the heavens to save him and his angel appears in a flash of daylight, banishing the darkness of the windowless stone hallways that the demon queen has drawn him down. She 'shrieks with fury as the light burns her dark-adapted eyes' and then escapes, vanishing in a burst of sulfurous flame.

The poisonous ichor is already in the knights veins, however, and there is no way for the light to reach it all. The lioness angel has an idea, however - she will make him 'once more a child, that the light of purity may course through your heart, and shine unhindered from your face.' Leonardo, in terrible pain, has no choice but to agree and is transported to a celestial and heavenly kingdom, as 'the pure light shines through his flesh, like a man may cup his hand about a fine candle, or shield his eyes with his palm against the sun, and see the bones of his mortality behind.'

In the heavenly realm of the lioness angel, there what's basically a training montage. Having been reverted into a child just short of adulthood and thus pure in a very specific sense, Leonardo must grow up all over again and regain his full strength. Which is not as challenging or even as long as it sounds, given that this is a archaic era, where being in your early teens is sufficient qualification to rule over a kingdom, enter the field as a warrior, or be given or taken in marriage.

The lioness angels' family help to train him this time around, another clue as to the origins of the story in lineages of celestial gods instead. They teach him devastating secret techniques to impart a 'full philosophy of combat, a discipline worthy of a man of arms, not that gambled accumulation of crude learning which departs a soldier the day his resolve finally fails him.'

Fully grown once more, but now without any of his many injuries and scars, Leonardo returns as youth to the earthly world, climbing down a ladder made of spiders silk that will not bear the full weight of mortality. The last few rungs break as he reaches the ground, and it is not possible to climb back up. She detects a hint of Holy Grail legend, that 'all his wounds may be made clean' and 'the light of the divine will shine from him who is worthy.'

The final battle with the demon queen has an oddly anti-climactic quality, as though it's just an afterthought. The heavenly near-death experience seems to be the real focus of the piece, if that's even a reasonable way to look at it. Leonardo approaches her in her castle, which has gained a fell and terrifying reputation with travellers in even the short time he's been away, and all the lesser demons fall back before his celestial light. Although 'the purity of the heavens may be held by the mortal for only a short time, as long as it might take a scholar to walk the path of the stars' this is all he needs, and he confronts the demon queen on her throne, ascending the fine-woven and gilt-edged length of red carpet that spills from the dais like a waterfall of blood.

The demon queen 'rises as a cobra ascendant and falls upon him' but this time her needle fangs cannot pierce his skin, which is imbued with light. He traps her 'in an inevitable embrace, which like the will of heaven, cannot be escaped' and kisses her forehead, infecting her with illumination that spreads uncontrollably throughout her body, shining from the spaces between her scales and consuming her from the inside out.

The light spreads throughout the ancient castle, turning 'walls translucent like polished mirrors, eating away at the mortar of shadows that keeps the stones standing beyond their time.' Demons run around in a panic and try to flee and are consumed as the light propagates like fire. Leonardo, now fully mortal again, fights his way out and makes it to the castle portcullis, which is crumbling even as he reaches it, the vertical iron spars dislocating along existing fractures and 'falling heavy, like broad spears dropped from above, piercing flagstones as they fall.'

As any good action hero must, Leonardo escapes across his precipitous sword bridge to tell the tale, back to where he started, and hits the road again in search of another adventure.

It's not exactly drifting downriver with a hot vixen in an escape barque, but the literary structure is the same. She can see why this guy appealed, and why his more pretentious colleagues looked down their muzzles at him for writing what is basically an action-adventure story.

Inspired by the story, she leans over and gives Leo a little kiss on the forehead. "Sleep well honey," she whispers sincerely. "You can call me your aunt anytime you like."

She carefully draws her tail from his grasp, leaving a hair or two behind, and flips the light switch for him before closing the bedroom door behind him.

Unseen, Leo snuggles closer into the warm bed sheets, thinking vague and happy thoughts about swimming mixed with an overwhelming sense of good fortune. For just this once, everything is all perfect, and he doesn't want to risk waking even a little and spoiling it.

Since Leo is well and truly out of it, fast asleep and dreaming (no doubt) of mighty battles, Rachel excuses herself quietly and heads downstairs, to make more red bush tea, and hold down the fort until Angel gets back, whenever that finally happens. She sits at table and blows on her tea just a little to cool it, musing on definitions of heroism in different cultures.

People make assumptions sometimes, if you're in the fitness industry and sporty, thinking you're not perhaps going to make a particularly deep study of anything, but she took first-year English and Literature around a Fitness Education course, and she knows all sorts of stuff. That's how she understands all the meanings behind Leo's favorite story, even if it was never directly the topic of discussion in any of the classes. It is, in its way, ambitious that something so impossibly aspiring reflects his hopes and ambitions. He clearly wants to be far better than what his upbringing has made him, even if he's too young as yet to quite be able to express it directly that way.

The sound of a key skittering against the front door lock distracts her from contemplation, and she straightens up to welcome Angel home, just as soon as she enters.

"How's Leo? Is he asleep?" are the first words out of her mouth just as soon as she's inside. She's anxious about having left him alone for the first time in a new house, even with her sister there.

"Last time I checked on him he was sound asleep," Rachael soothes her. "He was extremely polite and very talkative, and I enjoyed almost every minute of his company."

Angel, tired out by the long and grinding meeting, dumps her carrying-bag on the table and drags a palm across the crease of her muzzle to straighten the fur out. "Well, that's good to hear. Do you want to catch up again next week, maybe at the leisure center again? We can go swimming again, maybe. I think he'll probably want to do that again a few more times before the novelty wears off, if it ever does," she jokes wearily.

"I'd be up for that," agrees Racheal. "I wouldn't want to deprive him of a chance to hang out with his new favourite aunt." She presumptuously flashes her hyena grin.

"Oh, well," Angel yawns, "we can sort out the details tomorrow. Sundays for everyone. I'll see you round, sis, and thanks for helping me to look after him on such short notice."

"What are sisters for, right? See you around too. Good night, Angel."

Rachael is tactful about her exit and abandons the tea unfinished, closing the front door carefully and quietly behind her on the way out. She knows that Angel hates meetings, meetings called on a weekend, and meetings called on a weekend late in the evening in order of increasing severity, so it seems wise to maybe just call it a night and let her sleep it off.

Angel, for her part, makes her way upstairs and splashes some water on her face to restore a few moments of alertness, then brushes her bared fangs one at a time with careful attention to detail and a firmly bristled toothbrush. She scowls at her reflection in the mirror.

All these meetings are more exhausting and physically draining than even the most intensive day of physical training. But then she perks up. Leo is here! And even if he's asleep right now, she's not alone and there'll be someone to talk to in the morning, and the rest of the day, and the day after.

She watches as the scowl relaxes into a shining smile, then flicks her nightdress up off of the hook behind the bathroom door, and wanders down the hall to look in on the little wolf, just for a brief moment. He is, as Rachael insisted, fast asleep and safe and well, so she closes the door again.

Heading back to her room, she gets changed for bed, slides under the covers herself and is asleep within minutes.

He's in the basement, but Angel's house doesn't have a basement, at least not one like this, full of old objects collecting dust and shadows. He tries to look at the things, but they remain stubbornly out of focus, just an impression of age and accumulated worthlessness.

In one of the corners, under the stairs - but the stairs don't go down that far - he sees a hint of a reflected light, no, not one but two, narrow crescents of what little illumination there is, this far in the depths of his subconscious. The demon wolf peers at him from behind the indistinct objects, trying to draw up shadows to itself but failing, aspiring to be something sleek and black, like the seductive demon queen in the story, but ending up dressed in shabby finery like an old bag lady.

He notices that it looks, more than anything, like his mother Kate.

Well, former mother. Not any more.

The demon wolf waves its talons like manicured nails and tries to draw breath to say something cruel, but it's more bad dramatic acting than anything else. He can barely even hear it.

"This," says Leo with great certainty, "is a dream I am having."

The demon wolf tries to look more convincingly scary.

"And you are not real. I can leave anytime I want."

He ignores it and heads toward the base of the stairs, and it claws at him, but the nails snag in the rolled up cuff of a jacket he didn't remember he was wearing, one that belongs to his father. Really it's more like a pathetic gesture, to try and get him to stay.

The dream begins to break apart as he ascends the stairs, and Angel is there instead, opening the door to the basement that they don't really have from above, and letting in a blaze of daylight.

"You okay? You've been down there a long time."

"I was just looking for something I lost."

"Come back up here where it's safe."

A few hours later, Angel awakens abruptly from a short but frenetic burst of intense dreaming, to feel a warm furry body pressing up against her chest. Fragmented memories of some complicated adventure fall apart before she can scavenge more than a few tiny bits, stray pieces caught under her fingernails, but still... "Leo?"

She can identify the shape of him in the darkness by touch, even though it's such a short time he's been with her. The way he smells and feels to her, like a mother lioness knowing her cubs.

She has a faint idea that the dream was something about them training together, but not like they would train with Rachael, or something like that. The exact details elude her.

She lets them slip away, because they seem unimportant compared to the current moment. Leo, she guesses, has had trouble sleeping again, and has made his way upstairs to her bedroom once more. Sometimes he sleepwalks, she thinks, because he wanders down into the main living room, stands around for a bit looking at the storage space under the stairs, and then eventually feels his way back up the stairs and always comes back to her room and not his.

It's an odd behaviour, and it's hard to tell how much is him asleep and him awake, or whether all of it is something in between, but the people she's talked to have pointed out that between being rescued from his abusive mother and the sudden move to a new place, it's not surprising he might be having a little trouble adjusting. She honestly doesn't mind him doing this, because she figures he'll only be a cub once, and snuggling up with her might help him feel safe.

And honestly, it triggers her motherly instincts. She enjoys comforting him. He seems to be sound asleep again, now that he's made it back up to her room, and so she carefully and gently puts her arms around him, wrapping him up in her blankets to make sure he'll stay warm.

The sunbeams will come again and wake them up, soon enough.