“I tell you what, cher. It’s been one hell of a month.” Ray closed his eyes as the Cheyos reached his lower back, rubbing with his knuckles.
“Mhmm. It ain’t erry day you get the recipe for the death of a creature of legend from a strange blood seer in the woods. Oh, do I love this place for that. Only in this part of the world, cher.” Demoleon continued, flirting with his hips for a moment before returning up to massage his shoulders. “I’ve done a lot of research on the rest of Golarion, and lemme tell you cher- ain’t nowhere as interesting as here. Especially right now, these past few years. Ursundova draws on trouble like its a lifestyle. They can write that in the constitution, too.” Demoleon smiled and stood, signaling the end of the massage. Ray rose slowly and stretched his arms wide, letting loose a few audible pops and cracks. “Ooie! You do an old man good, cher.”
“You take some… particular attention. Though you shouldn’t hunch the way you do, pretty soon and you’ll actually need that walking stick of yours.”
“Oh boo.” Ray threw a flirtatious smirk over his shoulder. “You ain’t that kind of doctor.” As Demoleon slipped a silk robe over his feline features, Ray moved to the window and peered out over the streets of Tatzylford. It was about as quiet as it ever got this time of evening. Groups of people on their way to bars or other places of hospice, or to their homes with private plans of their own. Ray had a clear view of the Inn, which not four days ago had seen the Zmei’s fire. At this time of night, the carpenters had all gone home, but piles of fresh timber were stacked alongside, and the framework webbing of supports underneath of the roof tiles shown under the moon.
“Y’know,” said Ray thoughtfully, “Sometimes I miss home.”
“Home?” Demoleon looked up from brushing his coal black fur.
“Yeah. Back in the Hooktongue. I had certain… amenities. I worked hard to achieve things in that swamp, and I left because it all got so boring. Now I look back at it, and well. It don’t seem so bland in comparison.” He gave a weak, crooked smile.
“Well, you’ve come to civilization and truly lived for a while. And if you can survive the attack of a Zmei- more than once- I don’t know that there’s much else Ursundova can throw at you that will actually threaten you.”
“Oh don’t tempt the cosmos like that, cher. Now I know I’m in for it.” They both chuckled. The Cheyos set down the brush and fastened his robe fully.
“Well, if you don’t mind, there’s someone on the roster after you.”
“Ah, yes. Arright, cher. I’ll be back next time. To celebrate living, right?” Ray grabbed his longcoat, satchel, and staff, and hastened to pull his loins on. Demoleon smirked again.
“Right. See you, old fool.”