I woke up the next morning still in yesterday’s clothes, and with a bit of a headache. As I began to get up and begin my morning routine, the events of the night before slowly came back to me. Rosto was trying to talk me into being his girl again. Will he ever quit? He is a stubborn cove, I’ll give him that much.

Then, suddenly, my emotional breakdown came flooding back to my memory, and I collapsed backwards on my bed again, throwing my hands to my head in exasperation, trying to think about what I said exactly…but couldn’t. All I could remember was how he rushed directly to my side, and how I had instinctively buried my head into his shoulder, and how his hands, strong and supporting, but at the same time so comforting, as he rubbed them up and down my back, trying to soothe me in my time of need. Gods above how could I have done that! My headache suddenly grew worse in its intensity, and I went in search of remedy Kora had made for me, muttering in annoyance at myself, “Rosto must think that I’m some crazy emotional wreck or something…”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Said Pounce from the corner of the room where he was busy grooming himself.

“Oh what do you know?” I snapped, stopping in my search for a moment to look at Pounce.

“The boy loves you.” He said simply, as if the sentence may as well have been: “Lovely weather we’re having today, aren’t we?”

“Rosto the Piper doesn’t love anyone but himself.” I said, maybe a bit more harshly than I should have, “He just wants someone to canoodle with, and I refuse to be that someone!”

“Not from what I saw last night.” He gave himself one last lick, and then jumped onto the window sill and down into the streets of the lower city, before I could ask what he meant…probably to go beg for his breakfast…leaving nothing but me, and his final sentence hanging in the air for me to contemplate.

I began to resume my search for the remedy in the drawer where I kept my journal, where I could have sworn I left that remedy last. As I went to move my journal so as to allow more room to maneuver, I noticed something on the cover, a hair…a white hair. “It’s not white, it’s blond!” I let a small smile escape my lips at the thought of Rosto’s wounded ego. Then I could feel the blood drain from my face as a question came to my mind…what was Rosto doing in my desk drawer? My heart began to race like like a hummingbirds at the thought of what he could have been doing…what if he read my journal? I was really panicking now.

Relax Beka, I kept telling myself…maybe he was just doing the same thing you were…not even Rosto would read your journal…especially knowing that if he was found out he would have to deal with you, Yes…that was probably it, I would have had a headache last night too if I was him, the way I was acting, of course he would have, blubbering the way I was last night.

I decided to go with that theory for now…besides, I didn’t have time to dwell on it at that moment, I had to get to the Kennel and report for duty. I finally found the remedy, took a dose, and proceeded to go through my normal morning routine.

As I opened the door, I found a single flower—a daisy—on the floor outside my room, with a piece of paper under it. I picked up the flower and the paper, and as I laid the flower on my desk, I read what was written on the paper—Go get ‘em Terrier—it was signed with Rosto’s name. As I put the paper next to the daisy on my desk, positive my face was bright red with embarrassment. I wish he would stop doing that and give up already, I thought, I’m never going to cave. I took one last look at the drawer where my journal was, and tried to push it to the back of my mind…

...without much success.