#but living room is like finding a zebra at a horse stable

[theworstcreature]

Sure would be a shame if someone were to…… give me their fresh outta 2015 ajr living room cd for free…. Yeah even worse if they throw in some merch from the time 😔😔

[themadvigilantist]

About the Muse

Discover your animal personality!

PENGUIN CHARACTERISTICS: Witty • Meticulous • Intelligent • Dual-natured • Inscrutable • Self-conscious SCIENTIFIC NAME: Aptenodytes patagonica COLLECTIVE TERM: A colony of penguins

THE PENGUIN PERSONALITY

Now you see it, now you don't. Aggressive yet gentle, outgoing but shy, stable yet flighty - everyone sees the penguin in a different way. It's that black and white thing: the penguin only reveals the side that it wants to you to see. So whether you like this darling-devil or not, you have to concede that it's a fascinating and enigmatic individual.

Penguins are birds condemned to live out their days on the ground. Unable to fly, their excess energy has no outlet save their creative talents and emotional outbursts. Penguins are poetic, artistic, and intellectually gifted, and as writers penguins have no equal. But, if unable to channel their impulses in a positive way, the resulting turmoil proves damaging to their relationships and careers.

NEVER UNDERESTIMATE A PENGUIN

Penguins are deceptively intelligent and are particularly animated when intellectually challenged. They excel at word games and puzzles but are modest about their abilities and are generally underestimated by others.

With their misunderstood personality, penguins find writing an ideal tool for expressing their true feelings. They have a natural aptitude for languages and penguin personalities dominate the world of publishing as writers, editors, and journalists.

THE PENGUIN PERSONALITY'S CAREER

A strong sense of drama draws penguins to the theater and cinema, although unlike typical bird personalities they avoid the spotlight unless they're able to hide behind the characters they play. Once on stage however, they prove to be excellent performers with their multifaceted personalities conveying the full gamut of emotions.

However, in many cases a lack of confidence affects their work. Penguins tend to give up on tasks they were otherwise capable of and are frequently disappointed with their performance. Still, work never dominates their lives and they always put their family first.

PENGUINS IN THE WILD

Like all flightless birds, penguins reside only in the southern hemisphere, and having found a niche in the wild, frozen wasteland that is Antarctica, most penguin species move south in winter to breed in the extreme cold. Although conditions are harsh, penguins can form large breeding groups with minimal fear of predators, and they are supremely well adapted for this environment. 

Surviving the Antarctic winter takes a great deal of cooperation from the penguins and they huddle together to conserve heat. As the penguins on the outside of the group begin to get cold, they are allowed by the others to move into the interior of the group to regain body heat.

CAREERS & HOBBIES

Waiter • Designer • Actor • Journalist • Herbalist • Writer | Gambling • Board games • Reading • Family time

LOVE & FRIENDSHIP

Since penguins have the coldest feet in the animal kingdom, it's no surprise that within its conflicted bosom there beats the warmest heart of all. Unfortunately, most of us will never experience this gentle compassion for the penguin rations it only to family and close friends.

Penguins mate for life and they make their commitments in black and white. Boredom is never an issue and it would never occur to them to look outside their marriage for stimulation. However, the flighty core of its bird personality struggles to maintain an even keel, challenging its partner's patience and endurance.

It takes a special person to flesh out the penguin's wonderful qualities and mammalian personalities like horses, moles and dogs simply do not have the tools to decipher its avian sensibilities. Neither is the penguin fully accepted by eagles, owls and roosters who look down their noses at their land-bound cousin.

True acceptance comes in the form of semi-aquatic mammals, and relationships with otters, walruses, and beavers are complete in many ways.

tagged by: @pi-jessicajones

tagging: @brendan-block​ @city-full-of-ocs​ @idontdosecondchances​ @paigeatyourservice​ @theiracademydaysareover​ @theemelancholyartist​ @isitrecording​

FOX CHARACTERISTICS: Autonomous • Generous • Creative • Flirtatious • Procrastinating SCIENTIFIC NAME: Vulpes vulpes COLLECTIVE TERM: A skulk of foxes

THE ASTUTE FOX

The fox personality is very much a creature of the night and, along with its dog relatives, is among the most gregarious of the carnivores. These agile-minded personalities are always active and -- although they never go out of their way to harm others -- have developed an unfair reputation for slyness and manipulation. The female of the species is called a vixen for good reason: with a sharp mind and equally sharp tongue, it’s best to stay on her good side, especially since she’s like to rise to the top of her chosen field.

CHARMING CARNIVORES

Appealing, cerebral and of average size, the fox is a close relative of both the wolf and dog personalities and displays the typical canine qualities of loyalty, passion and creativity. Largely misunderstood to be a shy, retreating individual, it's the fox's stature as a small carnivore that defines its survival strategy. Because it cannot succeed using brute force alone, the fox must rely on its sharp mind and engaging personality to garner resources. Because it spends so much time in its head -- giving the impression that it's trying to outsmart everyone – the fox isn’t surprised that others find its intellectual pursuits quite intimidating (and often annoying).

Foxes are fussy eaters and, with an appreciation for the finer things in life, demand quality in entertainment, food, and friends. Their love of exploration dovetails with their passion for overcoming challenges, which is why foxes are often found mountain climbing or journeying to exotic, forbidden places.

FOXES CAN BE SUBTLE

Flamboyance is not the fox's style; it prefers to remain inconspicuous in a small, cozy house, which is usually organized and neat.   Choosing subtlety and cunning over brute strength, they are unquestionably hunter personalities and are usually in good physical shape and perform well in pastimes that challenge both mind and body.

Foxes are typically successful in the workplace, but their competitiveness and ambition sometimes make coworkers feel belittled. While they would never deliberately take advantage of others, their single-mindedness often blinds them to the feelings of others. Foxes thrive when running their own businesses, but will usually seek a trusted partner in these ventures. Although they prefer consensus in partnership decisions, they usually dominate discussions and steer plans to reflect their own agenda. Competent in a wide range of fields, foxes are particularly well suited for a career as computer programmers, lawyers, doctors or politicians.

FOXES IN THE WILD

Foxes are closely related to dogs and jackals and comprise a number of distinct species; each with its unique range. Assessing the worldwide population of foxes is difficult as these animals mainly go about their business at night and are skilled at staying out of sight, although they sometimes fall prey to coyotes and wolves. Today its main enemy is man... and because of its tree-climbing habit, it is an easy animal to trap, although most species are not considered endangered.  During the day, foxes rest in thick brush or in the hollows of tree.  The fox is the only member of the canine family to routinely climb trees and often escapes danger by running up the trunk of a sturdy tree and navigating overhanging branches.

Foxes are not particularly fast runners, nor do they have the endurance for long chases... relying instead on their keen intelligence to make their living.

CAREERS & HOBBIES

Computer programmer • Lawyer • Doctor • Advertising Chess • Gambling • Debating • Jeopardy

LOVE & FRIENDSHIP

As lovers, foxes are passionate and inventive, with their agile minds and bodies leading to exciting romps. Yet, because foxes are generally uncomfortable with the idea of emotional neediness, they rely on their partners to generate the romance and safe harbor.

Despite their roguish reputations, foxes are quite discerning in their choice of mates. They are particularly attracted to the creativity and gumption of eagles, zebras and wild dogs... creatures with which they are physically and temperamentally well -matched. Foxes should avoid wildcats and tigers, however, for while these aggressive carnivores provide immediate carnal gratification, their feline characteristics clash with the fox's canine essence.

Beneath its even-handed exterior is a deeply emotional core that the fox keeps well-guarded. Lovers quickly realize that the fox prefers nurturing to being nurtured, which is really just a fox ploy to avoid intimacy... a fox will never reveal its vulnerabilities unless it finds a mate who it intellectually respects, and emotionally trusts.

TIGER CHARACTERISTICS: Handsome • Discerning • Curious • Fashionable • Conceited SCIENTIFIC NAME: Panthera tigris COLLECTIVE TERM: A bolt of tigers

POISED, GRACEFUL AND POWERFUL

Tigers are handsome and powerful people with an innate self-confidence and elegance. There's a sense of immediacy and an aura of electricity that surrounds it, and when it walks into a room, it feels like something is about to happen. Once a tiger has found its groove, it will focus on its goal with a brightly burning intensity. Male tigers, when out of their element, are sometimes mistaken for beefcake, but when you see them in their offices wearing their power suits you’ll soon realize that you're dealing with incisive, authoritarian individuals.

DEFINING THE TIGER PERSONALITY

In social situations, the tiger is an excellent host and there is no such thing as a casual party in its home. Guests can always expect a memorable occasion with an extravagance of food and drink, and yet, there is a distinct coldness to its den. Having sacrificed comfort for style, the tiger outfits its house with austere and modern furniture, and comfortably worn easy chairs are replaced every few years.

Unlike the family oriented lion, tigers are solitary creatures who hate to lie around doing nothing. In this regard they have more in common with wildcats and leopards, who are always on the move, and because of this antisocial aspect, it can be difficult to discern a tiger's true motives: They are considered unpredictable and enigmatic. They have a strong aversion to routine in their daily life, and their spontaneity and energy infect others who are graced with their presence.

THE TIGER PERSONALITY'S CAREER

Tigers dislike small talk in the workplace and expect professionalism from coworkers, demanding the highest standards in their business dealings. With their killer instincts, tigers make excellent trial lawyers and have no hesitation in using aggression to their advantage. Acutely aware of their ability to intimidate, its single-mindedness enhances the tiger's reputation as a force to be reckoned with.

Because of their preference for solitude, however, tigers are not natural leaders. While perfectly capable of assuming the role of a CEO, they prefer the challenges inherent in self-employment. Tiger businesses are invariably successful and cover a wide range of industries, from engineering to retailing.

TIGERS IN THE WILD

The tiger is a magnificent animal and with its splendid carriage and sinuous grace, can grow to lengths of more than ten feet and weigh more than five hundred pounds. The tiger is an excellent swimmer but, unlike most members of the cat family, is a poor climber.

Male and female tigers come together only when the tigress is in heat for a period a few weeks. During this time the tiger will not tolerate the presence of other males and will fight to the death to control the female.

Adult tigers have no natural enemies except man, but they have an unusually high mortality rate from infected wounds caused by porcupine quills. Although largely protected from human hunting, pressure from civilization and development has kept the tiger population on the verge of extinction.

CAREERS & HOBBIES

Trial Lawyer • CEO • Engineer • Self-employed Adventure • Sports • Parties • Action movies

LOVE & FRIENDSHIP

When single, tigers can be unsettled and promiscuous. But their emotional detachment should not be confused with a desire to avoid tenderness; for intimacy is the tiger's greatest sensual tool. Offering its lover some deeply held secrets adds another dimension of eroticism to its lovemaking.

Marry it? Yes. Tame it? Never! It's hard to put one's finger on why the tiger struggles to settle down, but one theory has it that the tiger views marriage as a threat to its independence, even though tigers that have been married for a while will tell you that matrimony can be quite agreeable. Maybe it’s their impossible search for the perfect partner that keeps them on the prowl, although more than likely, we'll never understand the darker forces that frame its fearful symmetry.

It's not easy to resist the charms of a tiger personality and the moment you meet one, you'll want to be president of its fan club. But there's a price to pay for hanging around such a compelling beast... the tiger's wit is sharp and its appetites monstrous.

[3one3]

The Sequel - 807

A House Is Not A Home

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

Juan went home on Saturday night after the services so that he could still go to final training on Sunday, so Christina went home too- to Dortmund. André’s match was Sunday, so he was with the team. Espen and Lukas picked her up at the airport and brought her to the new house. Just like when she walked into the house in London for the first time when it had furniture and decorations, it was an overwhelming and slightly surreal experience to see all that had been done since she left. She and Zoe had discussed general plans for where to put things, but that isn’t the same as trying it out and seeing how it feels. Christina really disliked that her last three moves were into environments that she had no hand in setting up. It was like stepping into a place and thus a role that was provided for her instead of her being able to ascribe her own. Nearly everything significant in the house was something she picked out, so she knew she was exaggerating when she complained about that to herself, but still- it was a symptom of a larger problem that kept gathering evidence for itself and making itself clearer.

The living room, for example, was laid out “okay” but not ideally. The familiar C-shaped sofa was installed on a slight angle to the front wall of the house, which hosted the TV, so as to remain welcoming to those coming through the front door into the open foyer. Christina preferred the couch to be parallel to the TV, especially because the new arrangement meant the part of it she most frequently occupied was now further away from the screen and angled to the left of it. The medium-pile burgundy rug that used to live under the sectional was replaced with a luxurious and very high-pile deep blue-ish-gray one that would trap and collect food crumbs and small toys and was way too glamorous to be stain-proof or even stain-resistant. The tall, long, narrow decorative table that used to live behind the couch with some books, flowers, and coasters was under a mirror in the foyer, which meant the coffee table became the only place to put drinks for the people sitting in the living room. One couldn’t sit in André’s corner of the couch and reach a beverage on the coffee table, even if blessed with his wingspan. The long cabinet unit underneath and floating shelves around the TV had too much stuff on them- too many picture frames, candles, and pointless decorative objects. The rider didn’t like to have too many distracting things around the TV. The Lichtenstein print and faux Lichtenstein Wonder Woman print hung together on each side of the back corner of the room were wrong too. They belonged in the bedroom. And it was just weird for the living room to feel so small. The 10’ ceiling was a lot closer than the two-storey one in her London home, and that space was the full width of the house. Her new main hangout area was half the size.

Beside the unfortunate comparisons and fixable decorator errors, there was the inconvenience of arriving home after a long day and finding all of her personal belongings in a mountain range of boxes on and around the sofas in her bedroom, and the majority of the contents of her kitchen scattered on the counters and island. André put away his own things. Espen put away Lukas’ clothes, cuddly toys, and bedtime stories in his new room and found places for all of the rest of his stuff in the playroom. She also installed some necessary things in the kitchen, like the blender and toaster over, and unpacked some of the food items she needed to make the baby’s regular meals. The espresso machine was operational. There was milk, juice, soda, and some fresh foods in the refrigerator.

Christina did bedtime with Lukas in the new nursery, which looked a lot like the old one except the walls were just gray instead of white and gray striped, and there were two faux “windows” painted on the interior ones with safari scenes. Whenever the little boy’s crib was replaced with a toddler bed, he could look above his dresser and feel as if a family of elephants were having a drink from a stream right outside his room, or look next to his closet door and think a bunch of giraffes and zebras were feasting on tree leaves and tall grasses in there. That was a nice touch on Zoe’s part that her friend really appreciated. Rather than go try to make a dent in the unpacking process in her own closet, which she couldn’t even get excited about, the rider put on her coat and trekked over to the barn to see how the horses were getting on in their new digs.

Calvin, Nick, and Rio were in the three stalls next to Socks and Dirk. That block of 5 on the south side was an exact recreation of where they lived at home. The order was the same. Everyone had the same neighbors. They just didn’t have Christina and her office across the aisle anymore. They couldn’t see her sitting at her desk, and she wouldn’t be able to see them. The 5 warmbloods all seemed surprised to have a visitor at 9 at night, but not unwelcoming. Three of them nickered to their human partner, and all 5 leaned over their doors. So did Jules across the way, and Jelly Bean and Dezzy down the far end. Christina suspected they knew it couldn’t possibly be time for breakfast yet, but they were going to check anyway. Each horse got forehead rubs, neck pats, and nose kisses while she checked to make sure they all had hay, water, and manure in their stalls. Then she went in search of treats for everyone. Isandro kept boxes of sugar cubes in the brush boxes on the walls in his grooming stalls. Tom wanted small cabinets in his grooming area instead of the small boxes. Christina checked there first. They were full of his preferred grooming tools and supplies, but no treats. The tack room was locked, and so was her office. That was a surprise, and it annoyed her. Never mind the inconvenience of being locked out of her own stuff- there were drugs and medicines in one room or the other that could be important in an emergency situation.

She took her phone out to fire off an angry text to her stable manager and to Kyle too, since he came over from London that day, but stopped herself before she could take out her frustration at many things on people who were only responsible for a small part of it. It was logical to assume that the reason she didn’t have a key to those rooms was that she simply wasn’t there to get it. That wasn’t their fault, and as far as they knew she wasn’t supposed to be at the barn until Sunday morning. So the horses got no treats. Christina felt bad about visiting and not feeding them anything, and they had plenty of hay so she couldn’t even throw them each an extra flake in lieu of something sweet or crunchy. Also, she didn’t know where Tom was keeping the “handy hay”, or the bale or two on hand for feeding between regular mealtimes, like if a horse was brought in from his field because he had a farrier appointment and needed something to snack on while he waited for the guy to arrive. Dirk and Rio watched her intently as she wandered around, and the others mostly went back to their hay or their snoozing. Everyone was in their toasty black stable blankets, except for Dezzy and Jellybean who each had a turnout sheet on on top of an extra large wool cooler. Julian was in a navy medium-weight turnout that was older than him, borrowed from Christina’s stock of old stuff because Stefanie only had blankets for her two. Christina thought of gifting her a full set of sheets and blankets in the stable colors for Christmas, or just as reward for her extra help with exercising the horses and supporting Tom and/or Kyle at events, and the reason she didn’t kind of fit with what she decided to talk to Dirk about that night.

“I had to assure Stef on Tuesday night that we’re really doing this,” she told the nosy stallion. “She called me and said she saw a picture on my phone the other day where I was naked with Juan. I got out of the shower and dried off and everything and I was gonna go get dressed but I checked my phone first because I was mid-conversation with Espen when I got in the shower and it was about Lukas and it was important, and sure enough there were messages. So I’m standing there in the bathroom texting with her about food- I’m bad at multitasking- you know this,” the big star smiled at the animal she credited with her star status. “And Juanin comes in to pee. He stopped to hug me first though, and he kissed my shoulder and my neck, and I’m watching this in the mirror and it was really sweet. I’ve told you how Schü says it’s okay. We’ve talked about that, you and I. I had the phone in my hand and everything anyway so I took a picture in the mirror. I don’t even know why I kept it, ‘cause Schü would be upset if he saw it on my phone too. Anyway, she saw that, and she overheard me say some things that I didn’t think were a big deal to Juan when he came to Sweden, and I guess there was some other “evidence” she could have put together. She was like, “I don’t want to accuse you of cheating on André, but can you just tell me that I shouldn’t worry we’re all moving to Germany tomorrow and in a few weeks or a few months you two will split up and you and the horse aspects of your life will move back to the UK?” Now, obviously I told her she doesn’t have to worry. And I think I believed that when I said it. But now...I’m not so sure, man.”

When is he going to defy science and just fucking answer me, Christina sighed to herself while Dirk checked her coat pockets for the third time. He really couldn’t believe she came to see him without any treat offering. His counsel was not free. He expected payment. His mom expected help. She needed someone to tell her it was normal to think she made a huge mistake in moving her whole life to Germany while her heart was maybe trying to tell her it wanted to be with someone other than the guy who drew her there and that she needn’t concern herself with those feelings because they’d go away and didn’t mean anything, or to tell her to listen to that heart and get out of that relationship and move everything back to London because it was the best thing for her, or that those feelings were serious but dictated that she should talk to André about them and try to change things so that those feelings went away on their own, or any other useful or consoling advice.

Never in the long saga of the André-Christina-Juan love triangle did she feel more strongly about or more compelled to make a change. Even when she and her husband were separated and she wanted a divorce, it was more a necessity than an emotional compulsion. He wouldn’t speak to her and she needed to move on. It wasn’t because she desperately wanted a future with Juan. Even on all those other occasions when she was unsure about which footballer was the right one for her, it wasn’t the same. There was always something that happened, or some question asked of her that made her wonder and consider. In the present, it was no one thing. It was no handful of things. There was no manipulative Juan question that got her thinking from an angle that helped his agenda. There was only what the rider believed an organic feeling inside that she wanted to be with the Spaniard because of how much she enjoyed their time together and how fulfilling their relationship was. For once it wasn’t about leaving André. It wasn’t just trying to get away from his mistakes and less desirable qualities. It was wanting to be with Juan’s qualities. And Christina knew that was what Juan always wanted, and what he was waiting for. He said when they broke up that some day she would love his former teammate differently, and would want to be with him for him instead of with him as a person with whom to escape problems.

The main thing stopping her from already acting on that feeling, besides the logistical nightmare of undoing all the changes just made, and the very real impact a separation would have on her son, was the little voice in her head that kept reminding her of André’s belief that things would be fine when they were together. If he was right, then their disconnect was a consequence of too much time apart, and her old feelings for him would be restored soon through close exposure and routine, overpowering any feelings she had for her best friend. That voice kept telling her she had to at least give him the benefit of the doubt and the chance to prove that he was right. She couldn’t just say “I’m unhappy with you and I’m very happy with him so I’m leaving before giving this a chance.” It wasn’t fair, she still believed, to judge their relationship, and make decisions based on that judgement, during such a difficult period of change and when she and her partner were only able to see each other for maybe 6 weeks worth of days in 7 months.

It was warmer in the barn than she expected, and she put that down to its newness relative to her old carriage stable. Everything but the roof was stone colored brick- significantly better insulation than 100+ year-old wood. Stefanie’s trio of horses were really okay in their relatively light layers. They had heavy rugs for going outside. They didn’t need a new wardrobe to match their stablemates, because Stefanie wouldn’t be training with Christina forever. She’d been around and a while and would be round a while longer, but her presence wasn’t permanent, which is why Christina decided against the gift. There wasn’t much point in pretending Stefanie’s horses all needed to fit in. The pro-André factions in her coach’s head wanted Christina to act as if André would always be there, with her forever. They wanted her to assume it was true, and behave accordingly- do everything necessary to make it work.

“I gotta go talk to your Pops,” she sighed to Dirk. “He’s waiting for me to call. I have that ever-present “I wanna talk to him about real stuff but I know I shouldn’t because he’s playing tomorrow” thing. We’re constantly telling each other not to do that. I wouldn’t even know what to say about the real stuff though. Stop trying to eat my zipper pull, dude.” The horse found the therapy sessions boring. If she didn’t have any food and wasn’t going to be more aggressive about the scratches, he would have to entertain himself. That meant grabbing anything he could lift with his big rubbery lips. “Do you want to do something tomorrow or would you rather have the day off? How are the rings? Everybody has ridden here but me. I have to go to the game but I could ride in the morning. Should I ride, or should I play with Lukas?”

Her Holsteiner declined to respond, but Christina visited the shiny new whiteboard next to one of those brush cabinets and wrote a list of four horses at half-hour intervals beginning at 10:30 Sunday morning, leaving her enough time to “do the morning” with Lukas, work out, ride, shower and change, and get to Signal Iduna Park for kickoff. Calvin was the odd man out because he would definitely be terrified by everything about his new home and require more time to get acquainted with the surroundings. They all got a “goodnight” on her way out.

[readbookywooks]

When Mo left her to go and fetch their bags from the camper van Meggie went into the kitchen, but Dustfinger wasn’t there either. She even looked for him in Elinor’s bedroom, but however many doors in the huge house she opened there was no sign of him. Finally, she was too tired to go on searching. Mo had gone to bed long ago, and Elinor had disappeared into her own bedroom. So Meggie went to her room and lay down in the big bed. She felt very lost in it, like a dwarf, as if she had shrunk. Like Alice in Wonderland, she thought, patting the flowered bed linen. Otherwise she liked the room. It was full of books and pictures, and there was even a fireplace, although it looked as if no one had used it for at least a hundred years. Meggie swung her legs out of bed again and went over to the window. Outside, night had fallen long ago, and when she pushed the window shutters open a cool breeze blew on her face. The only thing she could make out in the dark was the gravel forecourt in front of the house. A lamp cast pale light over the grey and white pebbles. Mo’s stripey van stood beside Elinor’s grey estate car like a zebra lost in a horse’s stable. Meggie thought of the house they had left in such a hurry, and her room there, and school, where her desk would have been empty today. She wasn’t sure whether she felt homesick or not. She left the shutters open when she went back to bed. Mo had put her book-box beside her. Wearily, she took a book out and tried to make herself a nice nest in its familiar words, but it was no good. Again and again the thought of that other book blurred the words, again and again Meggie saw the big initial letters before her – large, colourful letters surrounded by figures whose story she didn’t know because the book hadn’t had time to tell it to her. I must find Dustfinger, she thought sleepily. He must be here somewhere. But then the book slipped from her fingers and she fell asleep. The sun woke her next morning. The air was still cool from the night before, but the sky was cloudless, and when Meggie leaned out of the window she could see the lake gleaming in the distance beyond the branches of the trees. The room Elinor had given her was on the first floor. Mo was sleeping only two doors further along, but Dustfinger had to make do with an attic room. Meggie had seen it when she was looking for him yesterday. It held nothing but a narrow bed surrounded by crates of books towering up to the rafters. Mo was already sitting at the table with Elinor when Meggie came down to the kitchen for breakfast, but Dustfinger wasn’t there. ‘Oh, he’s had breakfast already,’ said Elinor sharply, when Meggie asked about him. ‘Along with some animal like a Pomeranian dog. It was sitting on the table and it spat at me when I came into the kitchen. I wasn’t expecting anything like that. I made it clear to your peculiar friend that flies are the only animals I’ll allow anywhere near my kitchen table, and so he took the furry creature outside.’ ‘What do you want him for?’ asked Mo. ‘Oh, nothing special. I – I just wanted to ask him something,’ said Meggie. She hastily ate half a slice of bread, drank some of the horribly bitter cocoa Elinor had made, and went out. She found Dustfinger behind the house, standing on a lawn of short, rather rough grass where a solitary deckchair stood next to a plaster angel. There was no sign of Gwin. A few birds were quarrelling among the red flowers of the rhododendron, and there stood Dustfinger looking lost to the world, and juggling. Meggie tried to count the coloured balls – four, six, eight. He plucked them out of the air so swiftly that it made her dizzy to watch him. He stood on one leg to catch them, casually, as if he didn’t even have to look. Only when he spotted Meggie did a ball escape his fingers and roll at her feet. Meggie picked it up and threw it back. ‘Where did you learn to do that?’ she asked. ‘It looked – well, wonderful.’ Dustfinger made her a mocking bow. There was that strange smile of his again. ‘It’s how I earn my living,’ he said. ‘With the juggling and a few other things.’ ‘How can you earn a living that way?’ ‘At markets and fairs. At children’s birthday parties. Did you ever go to one of those fairs where people pretend they’re still living in Medieval times?’ Meggie nodded. Yes, she had once been to a fair like that with Mo. There had been wonderful things there, so strange that they might have come from another world, not just another time. Mo had bought her a box decorated with brightly coloured stones, and a little fish made of shiny green and gold metal, with its mouth wide open and a jingle in its hollow body that rang like a little bell when you shook it. The air had smelled of freshly baked bread, smoke and damp clothes, and Meggie had watched a smith making a sword, and had hidden behind Mo’s back from a woman in witch’s costume. Dustfinger picked up his juggling balls and put them back in his bag which was standing open on the grass behind him. Meggie went over to it and looked inside. She saw some bottles, some white cotton wool and a carton of milk, but before she could see any more Dustfinger closed the bag. ‘Sorry, trade secrets,’ he said. ‘Your father’s given the book to this Elinor, hasn’t he?’ Meggie shrugged her shoulders. ‘It’s all right, you can tell me. I know anyway. I was listening. He’s mad to leave it here, but what can I do?’ Dustfinger sat down on the deckchair. His rucksack was on the grass next to him, with a bushy tail spilling out of it. ‘I saw Gwin,’ said Meggie. ‘Did you?’ Dustfinger leaned back, closing his eyes. His hair looked even paler in the sunlight. ‘So did I. He’s in the rucksack. It’s the time of day when he sleeps.’ ‘I mean I saw him in the book.’ Meggie didn’t take her eyes off Dustfinger’s face as she said this, but it didn’t move a muscle. His thoughts couldn’t be read on his brow, in the same way as she could read Mo’s. Dustfinger’s face was a closed book, and Meggie had the feeling that if anyone tried reading it he would rap their knuckles. ‘He was sitting on a letter,’ she went on. ‘On a capital N. I saw his horns.’ ‘Really?’ Dustfinger didn’t even open his eyes. ‘And do you know which of her thousands of shelves that book-mad woman put it on?’ Meggie ignored his question. ‘Why does Gwin look like the animal in the book?’ she asked. ‘Did you really stick those horns on him?’ Dustfinger opened his eyes and blinked up at the sun. ‘Hm, did I?’ he enquired, looking at the sky. A few clouds were drifting over Elinor’s house. The sun disappeared behind one of them, and its shadow fell across the green grass like an ugly mark. ‘Does your father often read aloud to you, Meggie?’ asked Dustfinger. Meggie looked at him suspiciously. Then she knelt down beside the rucksack and stroked Gwin’s silky tail. ‘No,’ she said. ‘But he taught me to read when I was five.’ ‘Ask him why he doesn’t read aloud to you,’ said Dustfinger. ‘And don’t let him put you off with excuses.’ ‘What do you mean?’ Meggie straightened up, feeling cross. ‘He doesn’t like reading aloud, that’s all.’ Dustfinger smiled. Leaning out of the deckchair, he put one hand into the rucksack. ‘Ah, that feels like a nice full stomach,’ he commented. ‘I think Gwin had good hunting last night. I hope he’s not been plundering a nest again. Perhaps it’s just Elinor’s rolls and eggs.’ Gwin’s tail twitched back and forth almost like a cat’s.