This old wooden shed has been converted into a living space by application of another layer of wood on the inside, a short stack of ancient, compressed futons, a small bedside table, and a narrow set of bookshelves. A tarpaulin has been stretched carefully across the ceiling, and the single small window has obviously been caulked and recaulked. The futons are draped with at least six blankets and a handsome gray and blue quilt. The bookshelves hold only a scattering of books, though one stands out as being bound in hand-tooled, blue-dyed leather. There is a single, old electric light on the table with a white fabric shade.
Did someone call for 'tall, dark, and handsome'? Well, dark's fairly well covered, at least. Jet-black hair's pulled into a long, loose tail at the nape of his neck, a few stray strands about the face occasionally drifting into his almost equally dark eyes, the irises of which are a brown deep enough that one needs to look closely to find the pupil. Nut-brown skin that sets off the white of his teeth and eyes -- it could just barely be mistaken for a very deep tan, if one really tried. Tall is a miss; he's still several inches off six feet, and he probably won't ever get there. Handsome... well, not a classic beauty, to be sure, but well-proportioned, with a stunning, frequent grin and deeply expressive features. Slim, but in perfectly good shape.
He's clad in... well, black leather pants. Somewhat faded, well broken in, but nicely cut and really =quite= nicely fitted. A simple cream shirt hangs untucked above them, long sleeved and fastened with a row of small, black stone buttons. Over that, he wears a decidedly well-worn old black trenchcoat, almost too big for him -- the cuffs hang down half-over his hands, when he lets them, and the hem hangs perilously close to his heels. Scuffed black leather boots with worn soles adorn his feet; there's a seemingly random collection of bracelets, all on one wrist, and several piercings along the upper section of each ear -- little silver hoops.
He is a youth verging upon manhood and his lean frame is just filling out with muscle. A shining ebony mane trails in a loose ponytail down the smooth line of his spine and a lock of it drops into one dark eye. His skin is as flawless as the bronze it resembles and shows not the least inclination toward hirsuteness. Leather leggings provide the base for ancient armor plates to protect his lower body: black plastic thigh and shinguards, and a black plastic and metal codpiece. His upper body is clothed in a thick chamois shirt and an ancient, battered black leather jacket.
His prized possession, worn either across his back or at his right hip: a shining sword with golden hilt clad in a tooled leather scabbard.
It is mid-morning and light is filtering in through the window. Rex has slipped out of bed into the cold air to turn on his little palm-sized heater -- which packs a Kem-sized wallop to the chill in the room -- and to grab a bag out of a small icebox in the corner. He leaps back into bed hurriedly and slides his freezing-cold feet against Ren's nice, warm legs.
Serendipity, who had been pleasantly snug and dozing, finds himself suddenly distinctly awake, and voices an unintelligible whine of displeasure at this fact, pulling his legs away from the sudden attack of the ice cubes. The rest of him, however, rolls over closer to Rex, wrapping an arm around him vaguely possessively.
Rex laughs quietly in Ren's ear, and seems about to tuck his cold, cold foot into the warm backs of Ren's knees, but then relents. "I got us some breakfast in bed," he says. "While the room heats up some."
"Mmm," Ren replies eloquently, and finally gives in and opens his eyes, shifting to cuddle a little more. He even captures one of those freezing feet between his own, voluntarily, to warm it up. "Breakfast in bed? That almost makes up for the feet." A pause, before he adds, drowsily, "....morning, handsome."
"Mornin', mornin'," Rex says amiably, reaching, amid cuddles, into the bag under the covers and producing a single, bright, navel orange. Then, like a conjurer, he produces a loaf of bread with a sticky sort of sheen on top. "That's just the start. Got the Finnish coffee bread from the Farm. Got coffee on to heat next to the heater." If there's one thing that Ren has learned about Rex "the morning after," it's that he's absolutely ravenous.
"Orange!" Ren exclaims delightedly, reaching over to snag it and cradle the sphere in his hands. He grins broadly, giving it a gentle toss-and-catch, "...lemme just say again, I =love= the way you cook."
Rex chuckles. "Yeah, yeah, you just like the stuffin'." He tears off an end of the bread and shoves it into his mouth. After a few bites, he rolls his eyes. "Man, I gotta learn how to make this stuff," he says as best he can without spraying crumbs everywhere. "It's heaven."
Serendipity grins, reaching over to try some of this 'heaven' for himself. "Not =just=," he protests cheerfully, before taking a bite, "...like the entire spread." The orange he sets back down nigh-reverently between them on the covers.
The yellow coffee bread is a slightly chewy and sweet. Rex snarfs down another piece before reaching over to pull a small coil out of a large mug and bring the mug, steaming a rich coffee scent, up to the bed. "'M a very versatile cook," he admits modestly.
"Yes you are," Ren purrs in appreciative agreement, "...=and=, you have coffee. Guy could get useta that kinda thing if he wasn't careful." He grins again, and leans quickly in to grab and sip at the coffee cup before -- he hopes -- Rex can stop him.
Rex allows Ren the coffee cup, but it costs Ren a little more of the coffee bread he might have otherwise had. After the first sip though -- hot! hot! very hot! -- Rex reclaims the mug and takes a slug himself.
Serendipity gives up the bread easily enough, the coffee only slightly less so. He stretches, then, a full-length cat-like stretch that might be more appropriate on the lion-kin, and sighs relatively contentedly. "So... when d'you wanna try the jaunt down t' Millinockett again?" he inquires, toying with the orange.
Rex gives back the coffee after Ren has finished stretching. "I'd like t'talk to someone weatherwise before we go. Maybe Granny Mountain again. Just t'make sure we can get back. Miss Anita's got some goose grease left, but I'm not happy leavin' her without her heart medicine for long." He reaches into his bag of happiness and produces a half loaf of sourdough and a small chunk of farm cheese. "Once we finish these, we can go into Miss Anita's house an' I'll make us a proper breakfast, if you like. Eggs 'n' bacon 'n' spuds..."
Serendipity certainly does not refuse the coffee, having a few blissful swallows before he returns the cup again and starts peeling that orange. "Sounds like a plan. Anyway, worst case if the weather goes bad, we gotta spend some extra time in that inn with the featherbeds an' all," he points out mischievously, quirking an eyebrow, "...I c'n thinka worse things. And breakfast sounds good, you tryin' to fatten me up?"
"Coyotes don't get fat," Rex reminds him. "At least, not for long. Figure y'gotta have somethin' on your bones t'keep you goin'." He takes a bite of bread, then a bite of cheese, then a swallow of coffee.
Serendipity grins in a wickedly lascivious manner that would get him slapped in a tavern, and probably has. "I c'n thinka =somethin'= I wouldn't mind havin' on my bones," he leers, and bites Rex's neck playfully. "...you gotta point, though. An' who'm I to turn down your generous booty?"
"Aie!" Rex says, mock-seriously. "Pointy coyote! Pointy! Here!" He shoves a handful of bread into Ren's mouth. "Chew on that! You'll get your bones warmed soon enough, lemme tell ya."
"Mmm-mm?" Serendipity replies, completely incoherent around the mouthful of bread, which takes several seconds to chew and swallow to an amount that can be coped with. "...promise?" he repeats then, rather more clearly, and grins again, breaking the now-peeled orange in two and offering the halves to Rex.
Rex takes one half of the orange and begins to eat sections of it neatly. "Promise. I get hornier the more food I've had, y'know," he mentions casually.
Serendipity considers this, lifting a brow, and grins, popping an orange segment into his mouth and picking up the rest of the coffee cake, presenting it to Rex, "...Eat, eat. Remind me to feed you more often." He leans in against the lion-kin, sideways, and slowly enjoys the citrus.
Rex sets the coffee bread down on his chest and continues to eat his orange half. "Well, just remember t'feed me an' then help me work it off. Otherwise, you'll just end up with a fat Kin." At this, he pauses, staring at his hands for a moment, before popping the section into his mouth.
"=Always= happy t' help you stay fit 'n' slim," Ren assures gravely, and goes quiet for a couple seconds himself, watching that stare sideways. Hesitantly, he asks, "...so... what was it like?"
Rex pauses to stare at the remainder of his orange again. "It was," he starts, hesitantly. "It was like I had... all the strength to move the world, all at once. To run an' jump an'... everythin'. I could do anythin'. And there was this... burnin' in the back of my eyes. Made everythin' real clear, but also made it... made it hard t'think, 'specially when I was upset. It was... scary." He inhales slowly, exhales. "If /they/ feel like that all the time... it ain't no wonder that there were wars between 'em, an' all that other stuff we hear about. It's a wonder they ain't all out there tryin' t'take over the world." His hands tremble for a moment, and he whispers, "For all that, I didn't want it t'stop. You know?"
Serendipity nods, slowly, and transfers his orange to his lap, slipping his arms around Rex and giving him a gentle, sympathetic squeeze. "...yeah," he half-whispers back. "c'n imagine. 'm sorry. That it didn't last. Y'know."
Rex hugs Ren hard, an extended, crushing hold. He lets go slowly, and scrubs the heel of one hand over his eyes casually. "Yeah. But, y'know, I got to try it, right? I'm sorry you didn't even get that."
Serendipity holds tighter in response, relaxing it a bit when Rex lets go, and half-smiles wryly. "Can't say I don't kinda wish it'd worked on me then, just for the experience. Y'know? But I figure, Coyote knows what he's doing. And I guess it woulda been a lot harder to explain t' Miki 'n' Justin 'n' Rowan what'd been goin' on if I was a coyote."
"Well, yeah," Rex admits. "But it woulda been... neat t'see you like that. O'course, we'd hafta hope that lions don't hanker for coyote meat." He bites Ren's shoulder gently. "Well, at least, not /that/ way."
Serendipity laughs, and runs a hand down along the far edge of Rex's torso. "Yeah, not /that/ way," he agrees, "...though in a pinch I prolly coulda come up with =some= way t' save my hide." He puts the rest of his orange half on Rex's stomach, for handy access. "'s int'resting, though," he reflects, "...I mean, if Callie was right, it shoulda worked on me too, right? So it hasta've been Coyote deciding it shouldn't." He chews on this mentally a little, poking at various interpretations.
Rex shrugs and steals a section of Ren's orange. "Or someone /else/ deciding it, I s'pose." He takes a swig of coffee. "I mean, what if someone /else/ did somethin' to the Nuwisha an' that's why they can't get home 'r somethin'?"
"...I s'pose..." Ren grants slowly, brow furrowed. "'cept it's hard to imagine they, let alone Coyote, wouldn't find a way 'round it, whatever it was, 'less Coyote wasn't there anymore... an' I =know= he is." After a moment he adds tentatively, as if it's just occurred but doesn't sound too cheering to him, "...unless I was the way they found 'round it, or someone else out there I don't know 'bout yet."
Rex smiles at Ren's consternation, then gently pokes him in the chest. "SerenDIPity, BOY o' DESSSSSSStiny. Gotta good ring to it."
Serendipity snirks, and peels a segment off his remaining orange. "Only when you say it," he replies, and curls in a bit more. The bed is warm, and so is Rex; all the better for supporting contemplation. "Gotta find more t' go on. Y'know? Clues, so I c'n do the detectivey thing. You got any ideas?"
"Well," Rex says, settling back thoughtfully. "Y'gotta consider all your sources, right? So, you're here, at Katahdin. What've you got? You got all the folks here with their weird stuff -- Justin's magic, Danny's dreams, Robin's... well, Robin's got all sortsa stuff, Miki's magic, Lucas's all'round know-how, Miss Julen's contacts, Miss Eos' songs, Captain Kem's ship and travels, that sorta thing. Y'got the mountain, an' its gotta dragon under it, and all sortsa doors t'places in it. Y'got..." He pauses, even looks around, then says, in a low voice, "Miss Alison. If you can give her somethin' really, really special. They say she can do most anythin'." In a more normal voice, "And then there's the unicorns. So, see? Y'got all sortsa things t'check out."
"I talked t' onea the unicorns," Serendipity muses, considering. "He said he saw 'em right about the time they disappeared. They came lookin' for some Perunka to help 'em on a 'great journey' they were gonna take. Said... they didn't think they could run all that way without help. Which's gotta be a hell of a long way. ...Perunka of the oldest blood, he said. Who looked like him... he was yellowish, black mane 'n' tail. Interestin' guy."
Rex raises his eyebrows. "Huh. Interestin'. See? I bet some a' the others have pieces too. They're all old as dirt. Well, except, maybe, those little kid unicorns I heard about."
Serendipity grins. "Those two're cute. There's a craploada unicorns around these parts though, 'less they all went home... which, y'know, not a bad thing, but I dunno how you convince 'em t' drop by." He munches orange thoughtfully. "If you were a unicorn, what'd entice you in for a chat?"
Rex thinks again. "Miki could prob'ly call one with his magic. I think Robin's called 'em by... well, you'd have t'ask her how she does it. I guess it all depends on what they like. I mean, you might be able t'summon the little ones with big bowls a' pudding, and /they/ might tell you how t'get one of the others..."
Serendipity sits up, eating his last bit of orange, and nods, enthused. "'s not a bad idea. Wanna go make some pudding and see if we c'n catch 'em? I mean, hey, even if it doesn't work, I'm sure we could bring it back and come up with somethin' t ' use it for..."
Rex laughs. "Sure thing. I gotta coupla recipes for good puddin'." He takes a gulp of coffee and offers it to Ren to finish, and then sits up on the edge of the bed, scratching his head and yawning.
Serendipity drains the remains of the coffee, then lunges across with a mock roar to drag Rex down again and kiss him thoroughly. Once that's been well-handled, he lets him back up and joins him on the edge of the bed as well, cheerful and properly awake now.