Page 55 of Right Next Door
“Meh,” she finally shrugged. “Screw it. Let’s follow the blue leaf road and see where it takes us. It’s either a deadly poppy field of asbestos or Oz. Let’s hope for rainbow horses.”
Decided, she started down the path. She was wearing a sheer, black duster style dress that trailed behind her with each step, fishnets on her legs, boots up to her calves, blood red lipstick to match the red in her hair, and a corset tight enough to serve the girls up on a goth black platter.
In other words, bring on the unfortunate male at the end of this path that she was ready to walk all over because the mood had struck her.
The leaf path took her through the manor, out to the front entrance hall, then outside. From there, the leaf path became a netted leaf path. The same guideline of leafs, but to keep them from blowing away, someone had laid a net over them. The leaf path itself already completely lost its flower petal romance just by virtue of the abandoned house vibes it brought; the small length of black netting just completely ruined whatever was left.
She rolled her lips inward, biting them to keep her expression under control as she continued around through the garden. She smelled something on the breeze – someone was cooking, and it smelled good. But it smelled like BBQ. Hot meat seared on agrill, nothing romantic. But there was no way Davard had done this, so it had to be Tsok.
Oh, he was so bad at this.
She came around to the path that led to the large gazebo that was situated between their manors. It was a lovely stone feature with a high, domed roof kept up by six pillars. Wrought iron style grating rimmed the area where the steps didn't lead into and out of it. The area was wide, spacious enough for a decent deck party, with wonderful views in every direction. The Glass Manor, Fellbud Manor, both gardens, the city to one side, and the trees of nature to the other.
Tonight, however, someone had lined the gazebo with more net covered leaves. Above, hovering lights were sparkling like a downed powerline. Definitely not soft, romantic lighting. In the middle of the gazebo, there was a genuine, bona fide spit roast. Admittedly, it wasn’t a pig, but it was a large animal that was slowly rotating over an open fire – so close enough. Fat from the roast occasionally dripped into the fire, hissing and spitting as it made contact with the burning wood. It smelled good – spicy and savory – but it was a bit confusing.
A leaf path and a spit roast and mood lighting – if the mood someone was going for was sparky power outage.
And there was Tsok. He wasn’t turning the spit – that was being done by a little machine that was holding the beast up. He was, however, using a brush made of herbs to spread some kind of buttery looking sauce all over the cooking flesh.
He was half naked. The robe he had chosen was a pale, sweet blush pink, but he had shrugged it off his shoulders, letting the top fall down around the skirt. Leaving him shirtless, his fur being stroked by the night breeze. His ear twitched as she approached, so she knew he knew she was there, but he didn't turn as he focused on the meat.
Misty stopped short of him and the fire and looked on curiously.
“So, what’s all this then?” She finally asked, keeping her tone neutral.
“This is a hirve. It’s a beast with very flavorsome, fatty meat. It’s not uncommon to eat, but the quality of this particular beast is much greater than what you’ll get from a butcher or a store. This was a prize winning hirve from a long line of tasty morsels.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded before gesturing around. “And all this?”
“Mood lighting,” he finally turned, giving her a self-satisfied smirk. “Humans appreciate mood lighting. It sets the tone for the evening.”
“Indeed. What tone were you going for with those lights?”
“Passion, of course.”
“Ah. Naturally. Should have guessed that.” She nodded along. “And the leaves?”
“Admittedly, that one confused me. But the human data said that human females typically are guided to their males by walking over plant matter scattered by younglings. I had one of the staff spread it. She wasn’t a youngling, but she was the youngest. I hope that will still suffice.”
“I’m not going to complain,” she said, struggling to keep herself under control as she walked away from him, still looking around.
He had set up a table and chairs to one side of the gazebo. It was a circular booth style table, small enough for both of them to sit comfortably, but easy enough to keep distance between them or shorten it as they desired.
Except someone had spread leaves over the seats. And there was a small fire in a little brazier burning in the center. Not romantic candlelight by any means, but she could see the inspiration. What really confused her, however, were the metal discs hung up like wind chimes – or a baby mobile – coming off the backof the booth seating. She wasn’t sure what that was about. Nor could she figure out why there was a bucket filled with arrows. Like from a bow. They were long, almost like little spears, and thicker than she would have expected, but they had fletching and an arrowhead, so she was pretty sure that’s what that was.
Oh, this was getting even better.
She brushed away some of the leaves before primly taking a seat. She looked towards Tsok as he used his bare claws to rip the meat off the hirve and add it to a plate. It was a pink-ish meat – not quite white or red – and it steamed, thick and juicy, as he brought it over.
“A feast for you, my Misty,” he declared, setting the plate down before sliding into the other side. He didn't attempt to move the leaves and they crunched under his weight as he scooted in closer to her, never crossing the midline.
“Is this a date?” Misty asked, chin resting on her hand.
Tsok smirked, head held up high, shoulders back. “You could tell that easily? I must have done it well.”
“Uh-huh,” she hummed. “Question: What’s with the shiny metal disks?”
“Ah, that.” He looked up at the bizarre mobile then back at her. “Davard found that in human mating traditions. We didn't have any metal cans, but I thought that the metallic discs would do well. It’s the sound that is important, right?”
