A slice of Life

Untitled Part 9

"It's a catty-pilla," Oz said thoughtfully, squatting down to squint at the monstrosity that had become a prime point of fascination for Ronan's best boys.

"It's a killer whale," Sly denied, raising his tree branch against his chest defensively.

"Der no wurta," Lucien denied, shaking his head. "Gotta be a cenny-peed."

"It's a slug," Angel deadpanned.

"Eww," Raven muttered. "Get the salt."

Jackson stifled a laugh. Then cleared his throat when Sly shot him a disapproving frown.

"Maybe it a fwog?" Lucien mused.

"It's definitely a slug," Angel assured. His hands were tucked deep into the pockets of his jeans. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. But Ronan was convinced that was just his face. The wind must have changed direction and made it stick that way because it never, ever changed.

"Can we puts it in a jar?" Ronan asked, licking the blackberry juice from his fingers. Angel had told him not to eat them but they just looked so very delicious. "Eyes will likes him."

"Aw, man," Raven muttered sadly. "We don't have a jar."

"I can puts it in my pocket."

"Ew, babes, just no," Raven shuddered. "That's just nasty."

"It a catty-pilla," Oz insisted, peering up at Blake. "Wight, Daddy?"

Blake shot an uneasy look towards the thick, slimy creature the trio were gathered around and gave an unconvincing smile. "Yeah . . . maybe? It could . . . grow into its legs?"

"Catty— catty pillas grow . . . " Sly's eyes scrunched shut as he formulated the word he was searching for. "They can grow legs?"

"And wings, and then they turn into dragons that steal princesses, and burn castles to the ground," Raven cackled.

"Don't tell my babies scawy stories," Ronan chided, pouting at his birdie. "Cuz if they have bad dreams now, I havesta give them lotsa kisses and say everything will be okay and birdie is just a silly bird."

"But you're so good at doing that, beautiful," Raven praised. "So it's not a problem."

"Can we move on from the slug?" Angel sighed. He shared a look with Jackson, who flashed a grin that was showered with amusement, and shook his head. "We ain't got all day."

Lucien turned to his Daddy. "But you sayed we do. You say we stay here till non-night time."

"Camping, yes. Playing Doctor Frankenstien with a homeless snail? No chance."

"He's not got a . . ." Sly struggled for the word again. His hands came together over his head, fingers touching to form a triangle, mimicking a roof. "He not . . . he not got a home?"

"Now you've done it," Jackson laughed. "Sly's got a thing about making sure everything has a home."

"Nature boy, step the hell in here," Angel demanded, clicking his finger at Blake, who was conveniently having nothing to do with the slug drama.

"I don't know how to build the slug a shell," was his response.

"What can you build, handsome?" Raven teased. Blake ducked his head and mumbled something incomprehensible beneath his breath, fighting a blush.

"No, Daddy," Ronan warned, glaring at the big guy. "Only Wo-Wo gets to be your hansum."

"But you're my most beautiful. You're my light. You're my gorgeous little cutie —"

"Be sickly on your own time," Angel grumbled. "You're on my time now. So let's get it moving."