#rivervale_lodge

In a land of giants, there is a lodge, and in the lodge, there is a bedroom. And in the bedroom, there is, nobody?

nobody except a childling with hooves.

And a peek into the closet, where some blankets have been gathered in an odd pile.

And there are signs of shedding

It is a smart childling that has learnt that if he doesn't unmake the bed, then he needn't make it again in the morning. That smart one snoozes in his blanket nest.

This childling bounces on the big bed in the room, comfy!

Creak, creak - it is a good mattress, but the boy has keen ears, and after a few moments, he peeks out, rubbing at sleep-filled eyes. After watching for a few moments, he ventures, "Are you a monkey?"

And someone dives under the blankets Only hooves showing

He creeps out but remains on the floor, wrapped in a blanket ET-style with just his face showing. "One little monkey, jumpin' on the bed... are we done jumping? I think there's still more bounce left in there."

"Shhh. I'm hiding"

"Oh. I thought maybe you were done bouncing. Hiding is good too. But you're not supposed to eat in the bed, or it gets full of crumbles. And I was gonna make woofles."

"don't tell anyone I'm here"

the muffled voice says

"if you tell them I'm here, they'll find out, then they'll kick me out"

"Okay." And the voice stops. Soft patter patter of bare feet leaving the room.

Slowly a horned head peeks out

The blanket is dropped on the floor, and the source of the voice is gone.

It's only a couple minutes before the sound of soft footfalls coming back up the stairs is heard.

A cave of pillows and blankets in the main bed

and eyes staring out

It's a small boy! With very messy, shaggy hair, and one perked, one floppy ear. And a plate filled with freshly toasted waffles - the kind with blueberries. He plops down just in side the door, sets the plate down, and picks one up. Crunch!

Behind him, a fluffy tail swishes at the taste of the breakfast treat.

A small boy peeks out of the pillow fort, no horns yet, but those bud things? He's dirty, and with large eyes. He's a faun.. and licks his lips at the smell and sight of the food.

A foot stretches out and sliiiiides the plate closer to the bed, then folds back up into a comfortable sitting position. Crunch. "Dehr besht when schtill hot." He mumbles through a mouthful.

"Yup" A swallow, and a hand reaches out "Do they make you stay in the closet?"

He thinks about that for a moment. "I thought that there might be a monster in there, and I didn't want him to be lonesome. But Gerd said that's my bed now. It's too big, though, so I made a den. Sometimes Oak comes to sleep with me, when he's not working."

He takes another bite of waffle, watching but not moving as the other reaches for the stack. "There's plenty. They buy enough for trolls, and I'm much smaller so it's hard work keeping up."

"Yeah?" He says

A nod!

And the satyr boy takes one and starts to eat. "This is good. Oh it's SO good!" Satyrs are not known for moderation of how they feel about something

"It's good with butter and syrup too, but those get sticky on the sheets and then they stick together and then you gets ants, and then it all has to go in the wash and me too. Did you know then they say breakfast in bed, you're still supposed to use a plate? " Solemn, somewhat affronted. "It should be more SPECIFIC."

A nod "Did they beat you? for not using the plate?"

He blinks slowly.

He lowers his voice "Do they beat you for talking about it?"

"Not here. I lived on a farm once where they told me about how I was cursed, and I slept in a crate to keep me out of trouble. But they don't like to hear about it here, so I don't talk about it. It makes them mad. Not at me, though."

"...did you come from the farm? With Missus Margaret?"

His ears wilt a little at the mention.

The boy brings his furry legs under him as he eats and shakes his head, "Nope. I was never on a farm. though I had a cage."

"They don't put ANYONE in cages here. Unless you try to steal the horses, and then you get put in a fishbowl. But they put water in it too. Because they're not mean." Connor licks his fingers, and takes another waffle. Crunch, crunch. "Are you a horse thief?"

"Nope. I got my own hooves, see?" he taps one behind him, "Nope but I do help with crimes"

"What kind of crimes?" He asks... eyeing the remaining 3 waffles, and then pushing them over to the boy.

"I use the gift." he says "it makes people lose their inhibitions and they relax... and then the gang mugs em" he says "or picks their pockets... or whatever. People do what they want to do when they relax...but when they relax they lower their guard."

"Oh." His nose twitches, sniffing, and he looks over the other boy for any visible injuries. Or interesting smells. "What do you call you? At the farm, my name was "Hey you!" or sometimes "Brat" or "Mutt". Here they call me Connor, which I like better than Brat, or Buddy which is better than Mutt."

"LIttle shit" He says "That's.. what they called me mostly"

the boy has scuffs, bruises that are old...

should a kid have a calliflower ear?

"Do they call you anything else? I'm not supposed to say that. I don't get an allowance so I'd have to put my snacks in the swear jar, and I'd rather put those in my tummy."

He tries a different idea. "What would you want to be called, if you got to pick?"

"Well, uhm.. I don't know , the other things aren't nice either, but... I don't have a name I... " A pause "pick? Others.. others might not like that? Acting like i'm somebody"

"Can I pick then? I'm some-buddy. I used to be nobody, once. Um." He looks around. "Eggo... lego... Legolas... no, not an elf. Mmm.. waffles... pancakes... flap jacks... How about Jack?"