The varnished oak chair supported the solitary creature's form quite nicely, the cushions preventing his circulation, what there was, from being impeded. This same feeling of comfort could not be said to be shared by his mind. Tax forms, bank receipts, and inventory lists filled the top of the poor creature's desk like a flood and were boring him to no end. Each letter addressed to 'David LeFleur, Pacific Fields Apiary' was another dull piece of paper sent by people who seemed to take pleasure in making others miserable with boxes to fill in, lines to sign, spaces to leave blank, and formulas to follow.

Leaning back in the chair, teetering on the edge between falling forward or backward, David scanned his office for the umpteenth time to try and purge the phantom sight of black and white from his eyes. It went from the walls painted a baby blue to the shelves lined with curios and knick knacks to the grandfather clock sequestered to one corner with both digital and analog clocks surrounding it. The window let in the light of a bright sunny day, still in the bright light of a mid-day sun. A curse, being beautiful while David was to be held prisoner by bonds of ink and graphite.

The ringing phone brought a welcome distraction from the multitude of papers that David was filling out. He had finally glimpsed a rescue helicopter that would take him away from the flood. Surely he should not ignore possible business.

Not even bothering to get up from his desk, a slick tentacle darted towards the cordless phone and whipped it back into David's other hand. Punching the button to answer like a self-medicate button on a morphine drip, David put it up to his ear and tried to sound like he wasn't thrilled by the diversion from the current monotony.

“Pacific Fields; Bluffington, Minnesota. You have money, we have honey. What can I do for you today?”

Ferinel jumped down from the tree. "Sup?" she said to the group of strangers. "The name's Ferinel, but you can call me Fen."

"Hello, I will need 1 large bottle of honey delivered to" Xavier said the address of the hospital. He was hoping that they delivered, and if they did, soon.

“So that's the local hospital and... Xavier? Did something happen? You sound worried.” David stopped writing down the receipt for the honey delivery, hand still and hovering over the box to indicate the tax. His gaze slowly turned to a shelf of leather bound tomes worn by centuries of use and easily recognized by a label-maker sticker underneath each. 'Exorcisms' was taped to the shelf underneath a few books that stared at David with accusatory runes.

“I called you earlier to make small talk and you were out. Is Lola alright?”

"Hey, I thought you'd recognize me sooner or later, David. Lola is fine. I found an elf in the woods, who I'm trying to heal. But for the potion I need honey. Sorry I missed your call." Xavier scratched the back of his head. "But that's what I was doing, looking for Lola in the woods, and I found an elf."

“You found an elf in the woods? Well, I'd be surprised if you hadn't. I'll be there soon, I've got some fresh honey just processed and ready to ship. I'll grab a bottle of that so your potion will be a bit more potent and then deliver it personally. Stretch the legs and all that. I'll be about... ten minutes. See you then.” After allowing Xavier to give some passing good-byes before hitting the 'End Call' button on the cordless phone, David left his desk in it's messy state and walked out the door into the employee lounge.

An unplugged air hockey table sat in one corner, unused for weeks and dusty as a result. Two old and worn couches sat near a television that showed nothing but the snow of static and a large icon showing that it had been muted. A lone employee, human by appearance and wearing the company vest with 'Mark' on the name badge, sat on one cushion and was slumped backward with drool slowly leaking from his mouth. David nudged the employee's foot with his own to rouse the sleeping youth, smirking as the boy woke with a start.

“That's for the princess,” he said, still half way in the dream. Looking around the room before finally seeing David, Mark remembered where he was and immediately looked nervous.

“Yes boss?”

“Mark, I'm going to be making a delivery to a Dr. Goodman. Anybody comes trying to find me, you tell them I'll be back in thirty minutes.”

“Uh, sure boss.” The boy, a new hire, looked nervous about the responsibility laid upon him but nodded in understanding.

David continued on into the storage area and plucked a bottle of honey from where the fresher batches were being stored before being shipped to fill orders across the state. The bottle was shaped like a Faun, specifically Pan playing his flute. That Pan would use his likeness as the bottle of his brand of honey still struck David as overly narcissistic to this day, but that wasn’t something you argued with the boss about. You just used the bottle and tried to make the best damn honey you could.

Finally reaching his car, David opened the trunk and removed a fold-up bicycle that he used for deliveries, putting the honey into a messenger bag and putting that over his shoulder. He mounted the bike and pushed off, heading for the hospital and towards Dr. Goodman. It was only a mater of minutes.

Xavier waited outside for the honey. As soon as he saw David come up, he got out the money from his wallet and began to walk over to David.

L E O P O L D • P R A T T

“You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

Leopold looked up with an expression equivalent to that of a drowning man who had just been told he’s slightly damp and gave the newcomer a onceover. “Yeah, well you’re not so hot yourself, honey.” He scoffed and returned to glowering at his hooves. Leo’s ears swiveled towards the sound of a body dropping beside him and arched a thick, inquiring brow. When the girl made no move to leave, Leopold sighed and let his prickly aura deflate, “He just doesn’t understand how mad he makes me. Or maybe he does and gets a kick out of seeing me all riled up. The sick bastard.” He fumed, ears twitching irritably, “That douche-canoe had the fucking gall to flick dirt on my face! Right below my eye!” He jabbed a painted nail at the spot for emphasis and let out a frustrated snarl. “Sometimes I just want to pound his smug little face into the mud, he just makes me so mad, ya know?” He sighed heavily, body sagging, “Gods, I hope his karma is a bitch.”

Inhaling deeply he let out a sharp breath and a considering hum, “Ya know, that actually felt way better than blogging.” He flicked his gaze over the young woman again. The small smile of appreciation vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a frown and a sigh. "Honestly, sweetie," Leopold lifted a limp strand of hair from her face, "Ever heard of conditioner?"

Seeing the good doctor at the entrance to his practice, LeFleur slowed down and hopped off his bike. Pushing the red fold-up along by the handle bars and trying to catch his breath, LeFleur closed the fleshy hole behind his shirt collar he had been breathing through during the bike ride so he wouldn't be wheezing after the speed run. Never fun to swallow bugs, he had thought to himself when he came up with the idea.

“Good day Xavier. Who needs the potion? Anyone I know?”