never taught me how to drown

They awkwardly manavoured their buckets past the door and into the interior. Mort was careful not to spill any inside her home. He sat it down on an empty surface and looked about the place. There was a comfortable clutter to the place. Something that proudly proclaimed "this home is lived in'. She'd accumulated a decent amount of stuff since he'd been there last. 


Halo had already started work as he looked about. His eyes fell on her bed, and scrutinised the space as he considered squeezing in his own furs beside hers. 


He turned back to Halo and the alcohol and moved to tip his own bucket into jars. Gently sliding then towards the raccoon as they filled. The aroma of juniper and alcohol filling the space already occupied by other herbs and growing things. He sneezed once, through he wasn't offended by the scents. Just adjusting. "It's homely, it speaks of a life. I keep going back down to bare minimum as I move" he said with a sigh.