Casper's Cottage

Casper's cottage appeared much bigger on the inside than it did on the outside. Aside from the back room where meals were prepared and the loft up which Casper slept, it was largely one contiguous space with simple, blocky countertops and unrefined wooden furniture lining the perimeter.

It was the first time Casper was able to see his visitor clearly. Gonzo had definitely seen comfier days; his fur looked positively disheveled, overgrown and flopping on top of his forehead, and his form was buried in a large hooded sweatshirt he might as well have lived in. Gonzo was noticeably comforted by lantern light, so Casper made it a point to turn all the ones he'd hung around the room to full blast, coating the room in flickering orange.

"You don't get electricity up here, man?" the rabbit asked.

"None," Casper replied as he twiddled at one of the lanterns. "Well, none that the slerrets don't provide."

"I've been meaning to ask about those guys," Gonzo said, pausing to form the question correctly. "What—are they? And why are they all slimy?"

"Slug ferrets. Slerrets! Their goo keeps them from drying out, and I think it's a conductor of some kind." Pausing for a moment to fetch a poker and some smaller logs from a corner of the back room, Casper went to work on the wood stove that stood dead center in the space, its exhaust pipe stretching to the ceiling. "I've set about harnessing their stable energy source out of milking them."

Gonzo was now well aware of what the glowing buckets scattered across Casper's countertops were for. The face he pulled suggested a very concerned nausea.

"No no, they produce too much of it anyway!" Casper pleaded. "They're happy to give me some in exchange for my care. That right, Ardent?" he asked of his beloved pet, who'd found his way back around his neck at long last. In reply, the slerret nuzzled Casper's cheek, leaving radiant mucus at the tips of his face fur.

Around the stove, Casper had arranged several handmade benches, plushly upholstered in red along their seats and backs with soft rugs at their feet, around the stove. Stubby tables clothed in cryptically-patterned cottony runners were positioned between each bench. Gonzo took a rest on the bench to the right of the stove, nearest the loft; after Casper was finished fiddling with what was inside, he took the opposite bench.

Wriggling out of his outer flannel and setting it in a ball next to him, Casper reclined in the seat. "Now your turn. Who are you?"

"Well, I'm a stormchaser. I chase funnel clouds around in that van."

The squirrel's interest was piqued. "Sounds adventurous!"

"I've had some adventures, yeah," Gonzo smiled, rubbing his arms. "Think I'm done with them for a while though..."

"Where are you from originally?"

"Right here in the Valley Cascadia, man. When I was 17, I got the cheapest van I could find and fixed it up so I could go cross-country."

Casper's attention was now split between chatting and pets; Ardent had flopped down on his lap, stretching out and dozing under Casper's hand. "I've always wanted to go on a road trip," he sighed as he petted, his hand coated in slime. "No money for it though. Or time. So much adventure, so much strangeness to see..."

"Careful what you wish for, man," Gonzo groaned.

"What do you mean?" Casper tilted his head in confusion. "I thought you liked adventure!"

"Yeah, until you see stuff you shouldn’t." Gonzo leaned forwards, protecting his stomach with his arms. "And I have."

"...I don't understand."

With a heavy sigh, Gonzo explained. "I've been inside top secret government labs. I've seen classified stuff. I've almost gotten swallowed up by mine fires that eat the ground from under you. I've almost died. I've seen aliens! Aliens!" Gonzo fell backwards in his seat. "And now I—swear something's after me now, I just know it. They know what I've seen. I hate being alone."

Casper wasn't sure he knew how to respond. Aliens? Every night, I sit out on the swing and watch for aliens in the sky, and this guy's not only seen them, but he's terrified of them? Who is this person?

"Wait, you said you were born here, right? Why don't you go back to your parents house?"

Gonzo's shoulders slumped. "They sold our house in town when I moved out. They're raising chickens on the other side of the state. I can't raise chickens."

Casper paused the conversation momentarily to check on Ardent. The flow of conversation had lulled him into a deep sleep, and the squirrel finally pulled his paw away, wiping the luminescent goo off on his flannel next to him. "Well, there's no one chasing you up here, I promise you," he said at last.

Gonzo's eyes shot open, and he looked up and across at Casper. "What?"

"If something were outside, the slerrets would be scattering, but they're not. I can hear them."

Gonzo was silent for a long moment, perking an ear out to listen for himself. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease a little. "...Whoa. And you can tell that?"

"I know my slerrets well," Casper giggled. He continued to look over the sleepy slerret on his lap, and he yawned in response. "They're sleeping soundly. What about you, Gonzo? Are you alright to sleep?"

"...Yeah. ...Thanks, man. Much appreciated."