Order Only: Strangeweale's man
Nov. 18th, 2013 08:50 pmIf I'd realised a little limp in my step would make significant inroads with Strangeweale's man I'd have faked it a long time ago.
I tested my transformation and everything felt fine - except, as I said, I'm still weak on the right side. Between the foreleg still twitching now and then and the limp on the hind leg, I suppose Padfoot must look like he's had a minor stroke.
Well, regardless of how it looked, as I say, it inspired the sympathy of Strangeweale's manservant. He concluded that my rundown state was linked to the fact that I haven't been round for a while, which was of course correct but not quite in the way he thought. He went back inside and found some scraps to bring out. As I nibbled, he muttered that I was lucky the master's been 'burning midnight oil' again.
As if that weren't ominous enough, he said something about how lucky he was that the Master's 'scheme' paid off. From what I could gather, Strangeweale's mood has been swinging for three days - first frightened for his life, then triumphant, now smug as anything. And getting close to the Mulcibers, too. 'You look sharp if they're ever visiting,' he told me. 'And they'll probably visit again, now.' He then went on to describe the sorts of things he suspected they might do to a poor mutt who might happen to get in their way. From the look on his face, I think he might have some first-hand knowledge, poor sod.
I nursed the scraps as long as possible since he was in a talkative mood, but soon enough he decided he'd better get back in to his chores. At least I got an invitation to drop by again, provided the master wasn't in to notice. 'Not that he does much but sleep when he is here,' he said. '"Commuting," he calls it. All those trips from the Ministry to his private stockade. Says it's not good for his health. His health, if you please.'
Sounds like whatever saved Cadmus Mulciber from that curse of mine, Strangeweale had something to do with it.
I tested my transformation and everything felt fine - except, as I said, I'm still weak on the right side. Between the foreleg still twitching now and then and the limp on the hind leg, I suppose Padfoot must look like he's had a minor stroke.
Well, regardless of how it looked, as I say, it inspired the sympathy of Strangeweale's manservant. He concluded that my rundown state was linked to the fact that I haven't been round for a while, which was of course correct but not quite in the way he thought. He went back inside and found some scraps to bring out. As I nibbled, he muttered that I was lucky the master's been 'burning midnight oil' again.
As if that weren't ominous enough, he said something about how lucky he was that the Master's 'scheme' paid off. From what I could gather, Strangeweale's mood has been swinging for three days - first frightened for his life, then triumphant, now smug as anything. And getting close to the Mulcibers, too. 'You look sharp if they're ever visiting,' he told me. 'And they'll probably visit again, now.' He then went on to describe the sorts of things he suspected they might do to a poor mutt who might happen to get in their way. From the look on his face, I think he might have some first-hand knowledge, poor sod.
I nursed the scraps as long as possible since he was in a talkative mood, but soon enough he decided he'd better get back in to his chores. At least I got an invitation to drop by again, provided the master wasn't in to notice. 'Not that he does much but sleep when he is here,' he said. '"Commuting," he calls it. All those trips from the Ministry to his private stockade. Says it's not good for his health. His health, if you please.'
Sounds like whatever saved Cadmus Mulciber from that curse of mine, Strangeweale had something to do with it.