[ ADVRIK ]
It'd been over a month now, and after many a long, arduous hour spent chiseling muck and grime from the corners, peeling away mildewed wallpaper, and ripping up carpets that were no doubt covered with every sort of bodily fluid a beast could produce, I'd put the final touches on the house this morning. Each task, no matter how disgusting or aggravating, was a step towards making this place truly mine, and that sense of accomplishment was palpable in the air.
I had risen with the sun and quickly got a shower, anxious to get to work because I KNEW today was going to be the day. Even through the thick lather of lavender-scented shampoo, I could smell the coffee machine kicking in downstairs, sending that amazing aroma trickling through the building's ventilation system, which, too, received a good cleaning.
Today was the day.
The day I had been eagerly anticipating. The day when I would finally feel at home in this house.
My house.
I carefully stepped out of the shower, shifting my weight onto the front of my plantar ball. The bathroom tile was, funny enough, some of the cleanest flooring in the whole house. For the slobs the previous owners were, they left the bathroom largely untouched(and given some of the nasty discoveries throughout the house, I'm none too surprised by the revelation either).
As I stood before the bathroom mirror, I wiped away the condensation to reveal my reflection. I took a clean, dry towel and ran heavily through the mop on my head. I wasn't the most stunning, good-looking wolf in the world, but I think I did all right for myself. I was happy with the color my coat had turned out, as a brown Gray Wolf wasn't exactly super common.
Once, someone at the orphanage compared me to a cup of hot cocoa. I guess I can see the resemblance, but I've always thought of myself more like a Boston creme pie: A mix of milk chocolate and creamy vanilla custard. The thought of it made my tail wag, and I couldn't wait to pick one up from the local bakery for dessert tonight.
If my fur colors were comparable to that of a city-borne dessert, then what did that make my eyes?
Fully dressed in my usual springtime attire. I rapidly descended the staircase down into the living room, which was spacious, and expanded into the open-air kitchen just beyond, separated only by an island bar.
I stood there for a moment and looked around, marveling at how far the place had come in just a month. It was a killer deal that I definitely felt burnt on in the beginning, but I was now ecstatic about the things to come as I moved into the next phase of life in Brickhedge.
But before that, there was one last thing I had to do before my morning coffee, which I'd planned to drink in celebration of a completed job.
Waiting patiently beside the range at the far end of the kitchen was a single, overstuffed black trash bag. Inside were the last few pieces of trash and debris from the various projects that had occurred in the house over the last four weeks.
All that remained to be done was for the bag to be placed in the trash can on the curb.
Stepping outside into the still-cool late spring morning air, I pawed silently across the brick pathway beyond the rusted iron fencing that still needed to be replaced and the newly built raised garden bed that sat beneath it in the corner.
I found myself beside the heavy-duty trash receptacle, and lifting the lid, I dropped the final trash bag inside.
With a smile on my stupid face, I said, "This house... is clean."
Back inside, I finally sat down on the new(-ish) couch with a hot cup of coffee(mixed with heavy cream and a little lavender syrup). The front window was open, giving me a view of the intersection just outside my house and the landscape that stretched beyond it. The blue sky and the clouds within, the green forest below, and the stretch of pavement that slithered off into the horizon like a giant snake, plus countless other little secrets still yet to be discovered. All outside my tiny home.
My home.
A world of adventures awaited me that I was sure of. Friends still yet to be made, battles to fight. Food to be eaten, drinks to be drank. Emotions, both good and bad, to feel.
But if I was to remain here, I definitely needed to find a job before my savings dried up.
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