Submission (#8626) Approved

"Ugh.. this broom barely picks up any of the sand..."

The mutters from the russet-furred Kittom lingered nearly out of ear-shot from where Silurian hung out upon; of whom was higher above on a rafter, dangling his arm half over the side at his own leisurely pace. Each sweep with the broom his friend made the platinum-haired Kittom was sure to meticulously count. Every one of Harper's soft frustrated grunts and murmurs of contemplation, the care he put into each stroke, his clumsiness as well- every bit Silurian found deep fascination in. So much so the featherduster in his own hand felt like a nuisance whenever its weight reminded him of its existence. His attention is limited! And cleaning was not at all on his list!

"Hey- you're getting sand on me." Harper bared a hiss at his friend while battering off the grains that fell onto his hair and ears. "I told you to gather the sand at the edge of the walls- not dump it over the open floor. Now I have to sweep it all up again."

"My bad, my bad," Silurian playfully rolled his eyes, sitting himself up on the wooden support beam. "I 'unno man, ya'd shine brighter with a glint of sparkle in your hair, wouldn't ya?"

Of course, to his expectation, Harper had a frown on his face again. Cute. He liked the predictability. The things that only he'd pick up after living by his side for this long. All these sides of his friend that only he would see.

"Cheer up a bit, the room's small at least." The platinum-haired Kittom twirled the duster between his fingers, then scooted along the beam to the wall-side. "The less you nitpick the cleanliness, the faster we'll finish."

"We'll never finish if I have to keep cleaning up after you." Harper sighed, but persisted by touting the dustpan over to the front entrance. Much to his chagrin, the force generated by the door swept sand back into the room. His eye squinted, attempting to adjust to the bright afternoon sun in the arid, cloudless sky above, blinking and taking in the heat of Ahza's desert outside. "Honestly. Maybe we're the ones getting duped to clean sand out of a sand house in the middle of a desert."

"Really? You were the one who made the offer to the innkeep." Silurian reached out to the top of a shelf to brush it clean. A clattering behind a couple books caught his intrigue. Taking the dust towards himself by the wall. To his curiosity, a small rodent skeleton was dangling caught in the featherduster.

"It's the least we could do for the free room."

"Probably should'a adjusted expectations for next time. Spotless floors? In open-windowed sandstone homes? Were they hoping for Ahza's winds to magically stop blowing every night?"

"I really want to get this over with before the sun sets."

"The pomu lantern crafting event's tonight, yeah?"

"It'd be a shame if someone here made me miss out our one opportunity for free materials."

"Money's sparse, that's true." Silurian eyed the floating 'lantern' tied to one of the room's chairs. Ever since miasma season rolled in, his friend's pipsqueak crystallized itself. By far, it had kept it safe wrapped in a mishapped twig structure with some rudimentary cheesecloth glued over it... but 'safe' might be all he could give it credit for. Over the months, it became apparent it wasn't stable enough, and it falling apart every week when exposed to the sun for too long meant it's protection would become moot anyway. Of course any nin'd want to fix up their lantern for a better one. But plenty don't talk about how difficult the intricate craft and expensive the materials could be.

Still, the plenty nights he watched Harper secure it back together again... left him longing for that sort of affection. The persistency to give someone the best you can give, even if not perfect or the highest quality, but full of love. He closed his eyes to the thought, then waved at him.

"You should make one for me too."

"?" Harper swept around the potted cacti plant. "And your pomu hasn't come out yet?"

"For me! Never said it was for my non-existent squeaker." He pointed at himself, "I want a handcrafted gift too."

"The event'll probably be one per nin anyway." Harper shrugged at him. "You can make one for yourself anyway."

"I'll just give you the materials I get then." The kittom snatched up the skeleton in his hand and hopped down from the short rafter beam, landing in front of Harper. "Look at this! A rat died in here!"

His friend recoiled from his sudden shove, holding up the broom to defensively draw distance, "heavens! Don't wave that around!"

"Relaaax, it's not gonna bite'cha. It's just skin and bones." Silurian dropped it onto the dustpan. "Isn't that neat? Who knew dust could preserve bones just as well as desert sand? It's a pretty impressive discovery, we could report it- I can see it- 'Ahza dust hides fossils just as well' headlines..."

"It's.. likely just an unfortunate circumstance. The climate's dry here." Harper straightened his back, quite hesitant about receiving it, "... and it really wouldn't hurt to treat the dead with a little more respect."

"Aw. I was hoping we could get rich for it." Silurian patted him on his back, "it's fine, yer were gonna move it to a better place anyway."

"I.. guess." Harper backed up to open the door with his weight. Sunlight cast him in shadow from Silurian's perspective, the blue of the clear sky contrasted with his russet fur. Outside, the town streets were bustling with other Elnins similarly taking inventory and sorting through their own stashes. Occasional palm trees shaded the road, and the bazaar of the main street could be seen through some alley stalls.

Silurian padded up to his side, giving him a nudge towards the direction of the park at the center of town. "To your right. How about leaving it with one of the big fossils? It'd go along with it right on themeatically."

Harper didn't respond to him, seeming to have lost interest in entertaining his jests. Instead of following his direction, he watched Harper circle around the side of the sandstone building to find a patch of arid grass, before bending down to dig out a hole using the broom.

"Under some grass?"

"It'll stop the wind from weathering away the sand." Carefully, the skeleton was buried. "There."

"When'dya think the last time that room was cleaned?"

"To be honest, I don't want to clean anymore." Harper grumbled, standing back to his paws. "It's hot out and you clearly want to do anything else."

"Aw. How'd ya guess my ploy?"

"C'mon," Harper rolled his eyes, "let's bring the broom and dusters back to the innkeeper... can you get my Pomu for me?"

Silurian cast one of his most displeased expressions ever. Tolerating the pipsqueak's existence was enough for him!

"Oh, come on! I only have two hands!"