”I will agree, Chester, if Tristan wants it. It’s his decision.”
Ashling didn’t hesitate even for a trill. She had absolutely no objections to Tristan rising to the role of speaker of The Circle. The opposite. Her fiancée would contribute to the best for Melrath.
As Chester seemed to understand and buy Kyrie’s conditions she had no problems with the diri of communication. It seemed nice enough. Kyrie seemed to think so too. The spiritual familiar withdrew and left the rest to Ashling.
“It’s for you to decide Tristan. I want you to know that I will stand by you whether you accept the offer or not.”
Ashling believed in loyalty. Loyalty to Melrath and loyalty to family and friends. She would love to see Tristan take on an important role that would require whole-hearted loyalty to Melrath. Still, she didn’t say it. She didn’t want to influence such big decisions. It was two big decisions now. The bonding with a diri might change Tristan’s life on a very personal level. Rising to a position in The Circle would change it for sure, on a social level. The ramifications were impossible to know, also the ramifications for her, Ashling.
Would he become another person than the Tristan she had fallen in love with? She couldn’t know. Her own experience of bonding with Kyrie hadn’t turned Ashling into another person though. It had enhanced the one she already had been and added a spiritual dimension. She imagined that Chester might mean the same to Tristan. Her fiancée was already a very communicative person. While the spirit-speech potion had enabled the contact randomly, it was maybe not random at all that it was a dirt of communication that had approached Tristan. It seemed like a match. Maybe Chester had been drawn to the person Tristan already was, not to change him, but to enhance him. It seemed reasonable. She had no idea why a diri would want to bond with somebody that wasn’t a soul mate.
Only one problem ... she wasn’t sure if Tristan would be able to say anything more than “Meow!”
There was nothing she could do now, except for waiting for Tristan's answer.
Meanwhile, the grey cat Musablot had taken advantage of the diversion Chester’s appearance had provided to sneak closer to his intended new caretaker, Ashling. Musablot wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity to rise to a pampered personal pet. The days of working as basement rat-hunter living in the hold of Magnus but belonging to nobody in particular would soon be over. He would lay on velvet pillows and eat cream and shrimps...
Only one problem ... the alley-cat Stripes was also advancing on the couple. Musablot felt the hair on his back rise. He was tempted to growl but held back. Stipes was a street-fighter and had so far won all their encounters. Musablot wasn’t scared ... no way ... he was just not keen on getting his grey fur ruined by scratches and blood right when he wanted to charm Ashling and win a forever home.
Unfortunately, Stripes detected Musablot. The alley-cat didn’t hesitate to growl. It was ready to attack. “I will tear your ears off this time, you grey loser, you” he mewled at Musablot in cat-speak. “Meeeeeooooow!”
Ashling didn’t hesitate even for a trill. She had absolutely no objections to Tristan rising to the role of speaker of The Circle. The opposite. Her fiancée would contribute to the best for Melrath.
As Chester seemed to understand and buy Kyrie’s conditions she had no problems with the diri of communication. It seemed nice enough. Kyrie seemed to think so too. The spiritual familiar withdrew and left the rest to Ashling.
“It’s for you to decide Tristan. I want you to know that I will stand by you whether you accept the offer or not.”
Ashling believed in loyalty. Loyalty to Melrath and loyalty to family and friends. She would love to see Tristan take on an important role that would require whole-hearted loyalty to Melrath. Still, she didn’t say it. She didn’t want to influence such big decisions. It was two big decisions now. The bonding with a diri might change Tristan’s life on a very personal level. Rising to a position in The Circle would change it for sure, on a social level. The ramifications were impossible to know, also the ramifications for her, Ashling.
Would he become another person than the Tristan she had fallen in love with? She couldn’t know. Her own experience of bonding with Kyrie hadn’t turned Ashling into another person though. It had enhanced the one she already had been and added a spiritual dimension. She imagined that Chester might mean the same to Tristan. Her fiancée was already a very communicative person. While the spirit-speech potion had enabled the contact randomly, it was maybe not random at all that it was a dirt of communication that had approached Tristan. It seemed like a match. Maybe Chester had been drawn to the person Tristan already was, not to change him, but to enhance him. It seemed reasonable. She had no idea why a diri would want to bond with somebody that wasn’t a soul mate.
Only one problem ... she wasn’t sure if Tristan would be able to say anything more than “Meow!”
There was nothing she could do now, except for waiting for Tristan's answer.
*
Meanwhile, the grey cat Musablot had taken advantage of the diversion Chester’s appearance had provided to sneak closer to his intended new caretaker, Ashling. Musablot wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity to rise to a pampered personal pet. The days of working as basement rat-hunter living in the hold of Magnus but belonging to nobody in particular would soon be over. He would lay on velvet pillows and eat cream and shrimps...
Only one problem ... the alley-cat Stripes was also advancing on the couple. Musablot felt the hair on his back rise. He was tempted to growl but held back. Stipes was a street-fighter and had so far won all their encounters. Musablot wasn’t scared ... no way ... he was just not keen on getting his grey fur ruined by scratches and blood right when he wanted to charm Ashling and win a forever home.
Unfortunately, Stripes detected Musablot. The alley-cat didn’t hesitate to growl. It was ready to attack. “I will tear your ears off this time, you grey loser, you” he mewled at Musablot in cat-speak. “Meeeeeooooow!”