thecapitol | Of all the money that e'er I spent...

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Of all the money that e'er I spent...

WHO| Wyatt and OTA
WHAT| Wyatt takes his unexpected new pet for a walk.
WHERE| A Capitol cafe, not too far from Tribute Tower
WHEN| After this.
Warnings| None.

Loaded down with a pair of Miss Pasha's Tribbles and eager to show them off, Wyatt's escort had been quick to leave him to his own devices after leaving the woman's shop, which was more than fine by the marshal. He was happy to find his own way back to the Tower, his own striped Tribble riding along on his shoulder, purring softly in his ear.

Still unexpected, still surprised Pasha had insisted, without repayment, he still hadn't quite figured out what he was supposed to do with the tiny, trembling beast, but it seemed harmless enough and she had said they were easy to keep.... If nothin' else, he supposed Max would get a laugh out of it. This little bit, looking like something his tiger had coughed up in a corner somewhere.

More than once, Wyatt was stopped on the sidewalk by curious passersby, some who had seen Pasha's broadcast, and others who hadn't, but all wanting to know more about the strange creature cooing happily from it's perch as it was petted and fussed over. Dutifully, he answered what questions he could and for the rest, he directed them back to the little shop with its many baubles.

At a cafe not far from his destination, he was stopped by one woman at a table near the sidewalk, but within minutes had gathered a small knot of a crowd, all of them asking after his new friend.

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Howard tilts his head at it and wrinkles his nose, incredulity written into all of his features. "It's alive?"

He doesn't reach out to touch it, instead folding his hands closer into his chest and leaning forward on his elbows, squinting at it.

"Gotta say, Wyatt, I took you for more of a horse and cattle guy than a...oversized mold spore." He tilts his head to the other side. "Does it bite or have a poison stinger or anything?"

He laughed lowly and rubbed a hand over the tribble's 'back,' the striped fur puffing out as it quivered happily.

"I didn't exactly pick it. I just happened to be in the store and the shopkeep gave it to me." He leaned back in his chair, nodded down at it. "Go on', it's harmless enough. Ain't done nothin' but purr and shake all the time I've had it."

Howard reaches over and tentatively pokes it, with the kid of awkwardness of someone who's not used to handling animals he's not trying to kill. After a moment he strokes it, surprised by how warm it is.

A few more pets and a smile starts to spread over his face like water filling a valley.

"Did you name it?"

As if Howard's grin was contagious, an answering one slowly pulled at Wyatt's mouth. Folding his arms across his chest, he kicked back, legs stretching out beneath the table, boots crossing at the ankle and resting lightly against the leg of Howard's chair.

"I have not," he nodded. "I ain't never been much'a one for it, but I expect yer about to help me with that, aren't ya?"

"You caught on to the fact that I name everything?" Howard cups his hand over the tribble, feeling the purr rumbling through it. "You going to let him sleep in one of your boots?"

Wyatt doesn't smile enough. Howard doesn't really realize it until one starts to sneak across Wyatt's face, deepening the crags there but showing how young Wyatt actually is. Not this interminable, ageless man, but still well in his prime.

Still a buck in his prime physically, years older in the eyes, in spirit with every arena. The Capitol could mop up the blood and stitch his skin back up as if it had never been, but it couldn't erase the scars on his soul.

Moments like this, here with Howard, were what eased that pain.

"'Spose I could," he allowed with a chuckle, rubbing at his jaw with one hand. "But that seems a might cruel, even for a beast without a nose."

None that he'd found anyway.

"I can bet you I smelled worse. Way worse." He scoops it up and holds it in his hand, trying to examine and see where its nose is. He turns it over and pokes it in the stomach, curious and clumsy. The smile lingers, free now that for the moment, the paranoia is pushed too far back to chase it from his face.

"But yer not the one who'd be in the boot," he grinned, eyes flashing with amusement. "That poor thing likely wouldn't know what hit it."

Apparently becoming accustomed to being turned over by this point, the tribble continued to coo softly even up on it's back, striped belly trembling under Howard's fingers.

"'Spose I don't have to worry 'bout it chewin' on my boots though. I ain't found any mouth either."

Though Pasha had said they were capable of eating, even if they shouldn't.

"Maybe it's like a frog, and it absorbs nutrients through touch? Or is that slugs..."

He tries to tickle it. It just seems to coo harder. His fingers close over it, as if he just wants to clutch it to his chest, to never let it go. But it's Wyatt's, so after a moment he rolls it back.

It rolls. That makes him laugh.

"Frogs eat bugs," Wyatt mused gently, almost from a distance as he watched Howard's face warm and brighten with delight. An idea beginning to quietly take form. "An' other frogs, once they get big enough."

He couldn't speak for slugs though. True, he'd never seen a mouth on any of them before, but then he'd never had much mind to look either.

Stopping the tribble with the side of his hand, he set it to rights facing Howard - with as best a guess he could make as its front.

"Ya know, it has been brought to my attention that I may not be the best keeper for it."

"Right. But they also, like...they absorb stuff, I thought..." His cheeks flush a little at being corrected, especially over something he really should have known. He glances up, uncertainty crossing over his face.

"Wait, do you mean like..." For a moment genuine heartbreak crosses his face. "Wy, you can't honestly...you can't honestly trust me with a pet. You seen what I'm like with small animals. You know..."

That Howard hunts and kills them. That he doesn't even think twice.

He stroked a big, callused hand over the tribble, but kept his eyes on Howard. That open, steady stare.

"This ain't the arena, son. An' I know ya know the difference."

The ruffled the striped fur - Max's tiger in tiny, cooing miniature - and pushed it gently back across the table, the round, warm body bumping Howard's knuckles.

"I trust you."

"I, I..." Howard presses his lips together, licks the inside of his teeth, rocks back and forth on his bony butt in the chair.

He closes his hand over it, face screwed up like he's trying to shutter out tears before they have the chance to escape.

"I don't know if I know the difference. Always, you know?"

The tribble trembled under Howard's hands, happy just to be touched, but wanting even more to be petted. It warbled an eager trill, as if trying to encourage him.

"I know ya do," Wyatt repeated, that same unwavering drawl. "But if yer not sure, maybe it'll help some."

A warm, purring reminder that Howard wasn't alone and that, if only for a short time, he was as safe as any of them could be in this strange, violent new world.

Howard tries to follow the nonverbal directions, petting as best he can. It's more a pat, really, but he's not used to taking care of pets. He never even had goldfish as a kid.

He meets Wyatt's eyes. There's a question there, wondering why Wyatt isn't mentioning the times he's woken up in Wyatt's room and has to spend whole minutes remembering that he's not in the Arena - that he's with Wyatt, not Aunamee.

He brings the tribble to his chest.

Wyatt saw no reason to mention them, because Howard wasn't the only one who was occasionally lost. For whatever the boy saw him as, Wyatt was still just a man, he dealt with all the same pains and fears that everyone else.

He was often just better at keeping it to himself.

"Jus' don't think too harshly of me, if I come to visit him every now an' again," he smiled as Howard picked the tribble up. "They're quite comely, once ya get used to 'em."

"Oh, no. You visiting. Whatever will I do," Howard says teasingly, but the truth is he doesn't invite people over often. Eponine's been the only person in his room a while. It's embarrassingly packed with stuff, hoarded treasures, and besides, having spent so long living with Alpha and Hyperion's shadows creeping under the door, he's never really felt at home in his suite.

"I think I'll call him Butch Cassidy," Howard says, mimicking Wyatt's drawl and grinning. Little parentheses appear under his eyes, emphasis of the smile.

"Well, iffen it makes ya feel better, ya could always bring 'em by to see me," Wyatt grinned. "I'd be alright with that."

To him, it seemed like a whole lot of name for little ball of fluff, but he sensed there was more to it than Howard was letting on. Like that Buffy he'd told him about.

Some reference long after his time that he had no hope of understanding.

"Only thing ya have to know is not to feed 'em. Lady I got it from insisted that would not be a good idea."

"I don't mind visiting more often." He occasionally ghosts through the District 10 Suite, checking in on Orc, and he always says hello to Wyatt if Wyatt's awake. A few times he's slept in Wyatt's room, when it was offered.

"I'm not supposed to feed them?" At first Howard wonders if that's too good to be true, a pet that doesn't eat. And then he wonders if Wyatt's asking him to just torture the little ball of fuzz. He can't imagine subjecting it to what he went through.

"That's what the lady said," he nodded, finger tip tapping against the table, a gentle emphasis on the words. "'Parently they don't need it."

His brow veed, mouth pulling in bemusement.

"An' they're jus' happy to be fussed over."

"Everything needs to be fed. Unless I'm supposed to water it." He holds it close to his chest, listening to its rumble roll against his chest. "Ch-ch-ch-chia."

Maybe he'll just call it that instead. He closes his eyes for a good long moment, just listening to it and feeling it, warm and soft in his hands. Knowing it's his and knowing it's safe to close his eyes in this crowded place because Wyatt's here.

"Thank you."

His smile shifted, turning fond, warmth lighting in his eyes as he watched boy and beast together.

"Yer welcome, Howard."

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Of all the money that e'er I spent...

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"rxz" says the cat

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