Pop Goes The Weasel

Rain had seen the streak of cream and black hurtle down the hall and found himself smiling to himself. Pyrrhic. Since joining he had been meaning to speak to the boy in the hopes that he could learn more about the Abraxas and their ways, but at the moment it seemed he was distracted. Rain followed the telltale signs of a chase at an eased pace, following the striated jumble of paw prints to the end of the hall. He chuckled as the boy savaged the small creature he had been chasing and greeted him still smiling.

“Seems you’re in a good mood today.” Not that he had ever seen the boy in a bad mood, but the friendly intent was there.  “You know…Weasels can hold grudges.” He said playfully. “You’d better get them all before his brother comes for you while you’re asleep.” He added, gesturing to the crumpled weasel at the boy’s paws with a quirked brow. He of course had no real idea if weasels could hold grudges, but he couldn't help but tease the boy just a bit while he was young enough to still heed the words of adults. "Not that he did the first time you met him." He reminded himself sourly, but shrugged the thought aside internally. He wanted to enjoy himself for once.