Some Things Just Can't Be Understood

"I'm not sure if I should get close enough to touch you, I've been stung enough." Pheobie stated, moving over and sitting on the floor by Goldie and starting to pet him.

"I'm not leaving until I'm fixed," Voltaire replied flatly.

"You heard him. Go ahead and fix him," said Maple. "Unless you want him traveling with us."

Pheobie got back up, wincing slighlty, to go over and stand in front of Voltaire. "You'll be nice if I fix you?"

"He will be or I'll turn him into a rooster," Maple assured. "Then he can be our next meal."

"Cannibal," Voltaire remarked dryly.

"Doesn't count if you're not human."

"No one will be cooking Volty!" Ava protested, the feathers on her neck fluffing up.

"I was only joking," Maple replied. "I'm sure he would taste awful."

Pheobie held her hand out, palm up.

It took a moment for the gesture to register with Voltaire. Carefully he placed his hand in hers.

In the blink of an eye, the purple started fading from his skin, leaving his hair blue.

Voltaire watched in vague fascination.

When his skin was back to normal, Pheobie hesitantly reached toward his hair. "May I?" She asked

"Sure," Voltaire replied. "Blue's not my color."

Pheobie ran her hand through his hair lightly and the color faded back to the light blonde it was before. "There. You're back to normal."

Voltaire checked his hair to see. "Thanks."

"Any of the soup left?" asked Adair. "We'd like to take some for the road if you don't mind."

"Yeah, there's plenty left. Do you have anything to keep it in?" Pheobie asked

'We've got some pots. Nothing big though," replied Adair.

"How big?" Pheobie asked

"About this big," said Adair, putting his hands a foot away from each other. "Three of them."

"How deep?" Pheobie asked

"About a foot deep as well," answered Adair.

"I could probably fill two of them." Pheobie replied. "If you'd like"

"That would be great," replied Adair. "Ava's got them on her back."

"Here you go," said Ava, hunching down so Adair could access the pots.

Pheobie carefully retrieved one. "Could you help me then?"

"Already on it," answered Adair, taking another of the pots. Voltaire quietly grabbed the third one.

"Thank you" Pheobie smiled, carrying the pot to the kitchen.

Adair and Voltaire followed, pots in hand.

Ava turned to Maple. "I'm sorry about Volty earlier. He's sorry too. He really is nice."

"He'll have to do something about that attitude of his if he ever wants to get a girl," Maple remarked lazily. "At this rate he'll either scared them away or piss them off so much that they slap him."

"I know," Ava sighed. "I don't really think he's thinking about girls much. He's too stressed."

Pheobie set her pot on the counter and took off the lid. The inside was clean so she started using the ladle to put stew in it.