Aubrey did not plan to make a scene when Foxwood came to the door, so only presented himself there patiently until the Professor cottoned on – and thence greeted him with a great deal more dignity than Aubrey ever remembered getting elsewhere. (Even the nicest children had a habit of manhandling him, see.)
Indeed, if the office furniture had not been made of towering peaks of table legs and whatnot, Aubrey might have been able to imagine for a moment that this was entirely ordinary, that he was ordinary, that Foxwood was his friend.
So he scuffled across the floor to the desk as invited, and – well aware that the professor could pick him up, if he waited, but nevertheless stubbornly independent of nature – Aubrey dug in his claws and heaved himself up the wooden desk-leg, using his front teeth for a climbing pickaxe. There was a scone at the top, after all, and he ought to earn the dessert with a little exertion first.
Once Aubrey had finally kicked his hind legs over the edge and found himself on a flat surface again, he paused, splayed out to rest for a moment, but peering over at the professor inquiringly. Some triumph, was it? He waited calmly where he was, certain Foxwood would need no further encouragement to continue; he had an odd habit of making the air suffer a constant stream of his thoughts and feelings when he was alone, and was clearly bursting to tonight.
Indeed, if the office furniture had not been made of towering peaks of table legs and whatnot, Aubrey might have been able to imagine for a moment that this was entirely ordinary, that he was ordinary, that Foxwood was his friend.
So he scuffled across the floor to the desk as invited, and – well aware that the professor could pick him up, if he waited, but nevertheless stubbornly independent of nature – Aubrey dug in his claws and heaved himself up the wooden desk-leg, using his front teeth for a climbing pickaxe. There was a scone at the top, after all, and he ought to earn the dessert with a little exertion first.
Once Aubrey had finally kicked his hind legs over the edge and found himself on a flat surface again, he paused, splayed out to rest for a moment, but peering over at the professor inquiringly. Some triumph, was it? He waited calmly where he was, certain Foxwood would need no further encouragement to continue; he had an odd habit of making the air suffer a constant stream of his thoughts and feelings when he was alone, and was clearly bursting to tonight.
Formerly known as Davis, Elijah Urquart's pet hedgehog.