Chapter Text
Rozanne raised her arms and stretched, stifling a silent yawn.
It was already half past noon, and the Nighthawks at the base had not emerged from the breakroom to place their orders for lunch. She glanced at the grandfather clock across the reception hall and realized the runner from Old Verne’s restaurant would be by soon. With a sigh, the young receptionist stood from her post and made her way toward the partition.
As she stepped into the hallway, her steps gained a slight bounce, her eyes sparkling with new life at the memory of what waited in the break room.
Stopping before the door, Rozanne took a deep breath and turned the knob.
The afternoon sun filtered in through the tall windows.
Frye rested in an armchair in a quiet corner. Seeka sat in the central sofa with a book and pen while Old Neil scribbled something at the card table by the entrance.
Kenley had already left for the day, the Captain was in his office, and Royale was guarding Chanis Gate.
Bredt, who was substituting for Old Neil, was in the amory.
Everyone was where they should be. But what caught Rozanne’s attention from the moment she entered were the two unnamed occupants in the room. Her eyes trained on the dark colored masses of fur that sat beside the silver-haired Midnight Poet and Mystery Pryer, respectively.
Picking a target, Rozanne silently approached.
At the card table, Old Neil’s hands glided across small paper cards in front of him. He laid them out in front of Klein as he finished, then repeated the process with a new card. As Rozanne crept closer, she made out various words spread out on the table.
Yes. No. Okay. Hurt. Hungry. Hot. Cold. Here. There…
As she read, Old Neil muttered out loud.
“Alright. Now we have the basics. But this is still rather limited.” He sighed, putting down his pen. “I wish you could write, but I fear any attempt would end in ink stains on your paws.”
On the table, Klein let out a remorseful mrrp before his eyes flickered to Rozanne. He tipped his head in greetings.
“Are you still trying to find a way for them to communicate?” Rozanne suddenly said, addressing the elder in dark robes.
To her shock, the Mystery Preyer jumped, clutching the table as he huffed warily.
“Lass, don’t you know better than to sneak up on an old man?!” He took a calming breath before holding up an index card. “But to answer your question, yes. This is our latest attempt, and it seems to be working rather well.”
To confirm, Klein reached out and tapped the yes card in front of him, like the well-behaved student he was.
Old Neil smiled before dimming. “However, the answers are still rather rudimentary. Anything more complicated than a yes-or-no is still beyond us.”
Rozanne looked at the table and considered the problem. “Why not an alphabet?”
This made Old Neil laugh. “That was actually our first attempt.”
He then bent down, pulled out a large roll of paper from beside his chair, and spread it on the table.
On the paper was an enlarged version of the Leon alphabet.
The letters were handwritten in elegant script, magnified so that someone with large hands, or paws in this instance, could point to a single letter and be clearly understood. On closer inspection, Rozanne also noticed the words ‘yes’ and ‘no’ written on the upper corners.
“A tried and true method,” Old Neil announced. “It’s slow, but reliable. Sadly, I couldn’t quite make out what little Klein wanted to put at the bottom of the page, so I just left it as is.” He fell silent before continuing. “I suppose if the cards fail, we can pull this out and have them spell out the answer.”
Old Neil turned back to his work, then stilled and looked up again. “I’m sorry, did I distract you with our talk?”
Rozanne laughed into her hand.
“Not really. I did ask after all,” she reassured. “I came by to ask if anyone wanted to order lunch from Old Verne’s today. The runner will be here soon.”
Hearing this, Klein’s ears and whiskers twitched. He immediately pointed to the word ‘hungry’ and then dug through the pile of cards in front of him, eventually pulling out a ‘7.’ He then slid the card towards Rozanne, watching her with expectant eyes.
After a moment of confusion, Rozanne understood.
“Oh,” Rozanne said, covering her mouth. She frowned. “But Klein, you heard the Captain. You can’t eat human food right now. You could get sick.”
Across the room, Leonard, who had unwillingly become Seeka’s soundboard, wagged his tail in anticipation. But when he heard Rozanne’s response, he let out a soft whine in disappointment. It seemed he had been hoping to order something as well.
Looking between the dejected critters in the room, Old Neil sighed before rubbing his face.
“You lads…”
Half an hour later, the sound of cutlery against porcelain echoed in the breakroom.
The Nighthawks and civilian staff, minus the Captain, had all gathered in the room to enjoy their meal together.
The women chatted among themselves, and the men claimed different corners of the room.
However, in the center of the lounge, two figures looked down at the floor, unmoving.
Klein and Leonard stared at two colorful bowls, each filled with lightly cooked meat broken into chunks.
There was no seasoning, no added condiments, garnish, or sides.
It was just meat, hardly recognizable with its presentation.
A flick of a tail. A twitch of an ear.
Klein refused to move.
Beside him, the oversized dog known as Leonard stared equally blankly at his meal before finally huffing. His eyes flickered to the black cat, and then he slowly lowered his muzzle. He sniffed the meat tentatively and then opened his jaw, revealing terrifying teeth as he bit into the dish.
He paused, mouth chewing achingly slow before swallowing. The room held its breath until Leonard opened his mouth again and took another slow bite.
Glancing at his companion, Klein followed his lead and lowered his head. He quietly sniffed at the contents before carefully lowering his tiny pink tongue towards the meat. At the moment of contact, he, too, froze.
A ripple traveled through Klein’s shiny coat as the black cat pulled back and lifted his head. His eyes were narrowed with slightly flattened ears. He seemed to be glaring at his bowl as if it had personally offended him.
The Blackthorn staff all held in a laugh at the sight.
Ear flickering, Klein smoothly climbed to his feet and turned in a specific direction.
Seconds later, Bredt found himself staring down at a pair of golden eyes.
The moment their gazes met, the amber eyes widened, taking in the afternoon sun and becoming glimmering jewels of liquid gold, staring deep into the depths of the soul. Bredt was dealt a devastating blow by the face of pure innocence.
Defeated, Bredt offered up a small portion of his meal.
A small Mrr escaped Klein as he bit into the offering with relish. Across the room, the ladies clenched their fists.
With a pleased expression and raised tail, Klein made his way back towards the poet turned dog. He sat down and looked back and forth between his bowl and Leonard. Then, with a nod, he picked up his bowl and dumped the contents into the hound’s half-finished serving.
Leonard’s jaw dropped, letting out a confused Rroo?
The smug cat then strode towards the women’s table and sat down at one of its legs. He placed down his bowl and then inched it closer, like a poor beggar.
The women all exchanged conflicted looks.
Several scraps still found their way into Klein’s bowl.
Across the room, Leonard watched the scene with utter confusion and devastation. Then, with a determined look, he turned his head towards Old Neil, huffing and wagging his tail.
Old Neil chuckled. “Sorry, lad, but that trick won’t work on me.”
Leonard’s ears drooped, looking at his lunch in dejection.
Suddenly, a cough came from above, and a decent chunk of cooked steak fell on his bowl. Emerald eyes shot up, glimmering as they locked on Frye. The Corpse Collector simply looked away, continuing to eat as if nothing had happened.
And before Leonard could follow, another decent-sized piece of steak fell on his bowl.
“I suppose just once wouldn’t hurt,” Old Neil said nonchalantly, also ignoring the eyes shining in gratitude.
Letting out a short emotional howl, Leonard dug into his bowl with gusto, polishing off the steak and chunks of meat entirely.
When Dunn finally walked in several minutes later, he was met with Klein and Leonard lounging blissfully on the floor, their bowls empty.
But before he could comment, multiple grumbles came from the stomachs of the humans in the room. No one dared meet his eyes.
Dunn rubbed his brow and sighed.