In a small white house on a ragged old road, a man returned home. The smile that parted his lips gave his expression a sharp quality that, while foreign to many of the faces of his modern fellows, was more than fitting on his own. It graced his visage for every reason and no reason at all. He took several steps into his own living space, shadowed by a teenager much younger than him, much smaller than him, but just the same as he was at that age in all the ways that mattered to them. No grin cut across the kid's face, but their eyes held the same ferocity. Wild and excited, they followed the man to a coffee table in the center of the room. He sat down on a blanket-covered couch, and they followed suit in an armchair perpendicular to it.
The man set a paper bag down on the table. The teenager watched it as it went, glancing up once or twice to meet the eyes of the one holding it there. The man let go of the bag, set his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward to return their gaze. Both parties looked at each other, looked at the bag, and back again. Neither moved toward the item on the table.
The shuffling of small clawed feet on the carpet grew steadily louder, accompanied by the occasional squeak of the floorboards. A long nose peeked over the edge of the coffee table. It sniffed around for a few moments before disappearing, only to pop back up as the rest of its body jumped up onto the table. It was a large rat, clearly well-fed and sleek-furred, patched gray and white all over its body. Both individuals sat still with bated breath as the rodent padded toward the bag and took a whiff of it. They tensed as it looked over at each of them, its beady eyes considering both figures seated around the platform upon which it stood.
After far too many prolonged, harrowing seconds, the rat finally turned to the bag, gripped it firmly in its mouth, and began dragging it along the surface… directly toward the figure in the armchair.
"Yes!" The kid in question exclaimed quietly, so as not to spook the small creature that had single-handedly decided their win. They stood briefly from their seat to strike a victorious pose at the man in front of them, but sat down again rather quickly to take the item that the rat was offering. Skylar Zawinul reached into the paper bag, retrieved a donut and a cookie, and gave the rodent some well-deserved love and attention (and maybe a tiny piece of their winnings). The man on the couch, called by the name Vendyr, rolled his eyes.
"Alright, kid, come on," he said, his voice light and raspy, "Sharing is caring and all that." He moved to reach for the bag, but Skylar playfully batted his hand away.
"Nuh-uh," they retorted through the pastry in their mouth, " I am sharing, see? I care!" They motioned toward their other hand, which was held closer to the floor in order to distribute small crumbs of oatmeal cookie to several other rats that had begun to funnel into the room. Another one poked her head out of Vendyr's sleeve to join them, but he scooped her up onto his shoulder just before she made the leap, where she then rested contently for the time being.
"You're not sharing with me!" The man reached again for the bag, only to have it stolen from his grasp mere millimeters away. "Hey! I bought them!"
Skylar stuck their tongue out in response, and went to put their hand back in for another treat, only to find that the bag had disappeared from their possession. They whipped their head around to look for it, but locked right back in on Vendyr when he let out a maniacal chuckle. He was chewing on a donut of his own in one hand, a suspiciously familiar paper bag being held in the other.
"Wh– hey! How do you always– give it back!" The kid stumbled over their words as they scrambled over to him, carefully avoiding stepping on any rats along the way, only to stop short with an "oof," when the item was pushed into their chest halfway there. After a moment, they hurriedly snatched it away again. "You've gotta show me how to do that," they said, taking out another pastry to munch on, "I swear I wouldn't use it for evil! Trust!"
"You've got plenty of your own tricks, kid. Besides," Vendyr reached up to his shoulder to pet the creature that resided there, his sharp grin sly, "a magician never reveals his secrets."
Skylar pouted pitifully. Vendyr laughed. The rats shuffled about, vying for attention from their favorite people. The walls creaked every time the building shifted on its foundation, but the roof stood still above their heads even so. This house was alive; never still, never stagnant. Its current residents did not reflect on this as they continued to banter and laugh over their regular rituals, but it was important to them both nonetheless.
The house was alive, and they were alive, and they didn't need introspection or sentimentality to value those things. The lingering taste of bread and sugar on their tongues did that just fine.
