6 Unicorn Street; Tuesday Morning [09/20].

[special_rabbit]

It had been the kind of week that made Amaya wonder if it was rude to just drop your friends off at the animal shelter for kenneling when they'd turned into something, but it had also been the kind of week where she figured even if she did drop Irene off at the shelter, she'd still manage to make her way back, if how often Amaya wound up having to unceremoniously remove her from the bedroom was anything to go off of. She wasn't really sure how much of that was the ermine or how much of that was Irene, but there had definitely been far too many mornings waking up with a fancy weasel curled up in the bed...somehow.

And, sure, when she had to take care of Seivarden as a cat, she got cat hair all over everything...but at least she stayed in the living room. And Amaya had given herself very firm, very arbitrary Rules about this sort of thing!

So when Amaya went to bed the night before, she was....well, she wouldn't call it confident that there was no getting into the bedroom that evening, because she'd just had the week she'd had, but...she had a good feeling that her efforts to stymie another bedroom breach were pretty solid.

Amaya was, of course, wrong about this.

If anything, her efforts only encouraged the ermine more.

But she'd she wouldn't know anything about that quite yet, as she herself was still sleeping, snoring away, maybe a little later than usual because proper weasel restriction was honestly a bit exhausting.

[[ obviously for the aforementioned fancy weasel, s'il vous plait!

and I would 100% like to leave it up to the squirrels if they decide to take Amaya up on her bribe or not ;) ]]

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[begmetwice]

"Thanks for a lovely morning, Amaya," she added, blowing a kiss over her shoulder as Irene made her way out. She was barefoot and thus much tinier than usual for it, but even she had limits, and stealing a pair of Amaya's boots firmly butted up against what she'd consider a limit. She'd just have to carry herself like she was in her heels, and with that, she had no problem.

Even after being a weasel for a week.

[special_rabbit]

And Amaya waited.

And waited.

And waited, as if expecting either of those shoes that Irene was missing to drop, but when she was feeling sure that the other woman was good and gone without any sudden last minute revelations or realizations that would inspire a hasty return, she let out out the breath that it felt like she'd been holding all morning in a long, dragged out groan. She took a moment to rub her eyes and then her forehead and fought down the urge to just burn the whole place down at this point. But she decided she'd best safe the self-destructive arson as a topic for after she'd at least had some coffee in in her, and, in returning to the kitchen to continue where she'd left off, she realized something else.

"Ah, zards, the squirrels!"

But halfway to opening it, she sighed and almost wondered if there was really a point in even bothering at this point, but, well, if anything, this whole fiasco only went to show that she'd been slacking off in this sort of thing far too much lately, so it certainly wouldn't hurt. So out came the rum and a few little shot glasses, which were then lined up in a neat little row on the kitchen table for the taking while she went back to that much needed coffee.