It's A Hoot (mxm)

Chapter 4

Toren froze. The room had gone quiet, but he dare not look up. He just stared down at the mangled remains of the weasel he'd had earlier. It was a sad little ball of bones and fur that he couldn't digest. Ah, of course. He'd never hacked that up. How could he forget?

It felt like forever before someone started to laugh, hand slapping against the table's surface and Toren finally looked up.
It was Mark. His laugh was actually pleasant and soon after his wife joined in. He watched her surprised expression crumble into one of mirth. The rest of the table chuckled, no one was really sure why the couple were laughing, but they couldn't help it.

"Well, that answers that question," Mark's lips twitched in amusement.

"We were wondering what you were," Estella chuckled, shaking her head. Then she made a gesture towards the pellet. "Guess you're an owl."

Toren pressed his fist over his mouth and grinned. "Sorry about that. Forgot to leave that in the woods." He looked back down at it, still covered in his saliva. He rubbed the back of his neck and pointed to it, making eye contact with Betty. "I'll clean that up."

Betty closed her eyes and chuckled before standing up. She went to fetch some cleaning supplies, which Toren took from her. She had intended to help, but he shooed her back to the table and said she shouldn't have to. It was his mess after all.
He picked up the hard little oval and then scrubbed the floor so there was no trace of it. He wouldn't be surprised if everyone had lost their appetite, however after throwing it all away, he came back to the sounds of forks clinking and food being passed around.

He slid into the only place left with an empty plate. It was next to the older woman and young man. The two of them were stealing glances when they thought he wasn't looking. Who could blame them? He did make quite the first impression.

"Eggs?" The young man tapped his arm and gave him a warm smile, holding the plate towards him.

Toren nodded fervently and began to scoop some onto his plate. "Yes, please. Anything that won't be coming back up later." This got them all snickering around forkfuls of food.

"My name's Alexander," the young man introduced.

"Toren." He took a big bite of the eggs and bacon and moaned, closing his eyes. It was heaven. There was no way he could forgo this kind of food to live out in the wild. Nope. How could the thought have even crossed his mind?

He felt someone staring at him and peeled open an eye. Someone was all of them.
Betty looked rather pleased, so did her husband, that he enjoyed their cooking. The couple and woman were just amused. The young man, however, was giving him a different look entirely. It was a mix between "you're weird" and "okay, that was kind of hot."

Toren swallowed and cleared his throat. He was not used to eating with so many people. He never usually had to worry about how he was eating or what kind of noises he was making while doing it.
He felt like he should say something at this point, but shrugged it off and plopped a few pancakes onto his plate, continuing to go about enjoying every bit of the food. Eventually the rest of them returned to eating and a conversation was struck up between them. He was too focused on the food to hear what it was about.

He finished first, not so surprisingly. Owls were known to eat rather quickly. Everything in one go. He took his plate to the sink and washed it, then gave Betty a quick thank you before walking up to his room.
He needed to get some sleep. He yawned, stretching his back out. It was a rather long and exhausting night, but fulfilling.

Toren kicked off his shoes and changed into a pair of sweats. He laid down on the bed and smiled. He was going to be okay, he told himself.

Everything would work out.