The Moon as My Master

Peals of feminine laughter wafted through the air like perfume. One giggle, high and sweet, punctuated the flamboyant throaty gales with an edge of disquiet. She was faced away from him, but her friend with the eagle eyes sent punctated glares in his direction; her mouth a furrowed line of distaste.

"Murph, what's your joke? You've been staring at those cats the moment you sat down," Lengthening his legs in front of him, Joss snickered, "One is staring at you as if you had the mange." Kicking his friend's boot with his own, he added, "You don't, do ya?"

"Don't be daft, Joss," Murphy said, his gaze once more caught by a round of feminine laughter. "I don't know one from the other, I don't even know which school they're from."

"Liar," Joss's nose wrinkled, "You smell like a coyote in heat."

Murphy straightened with a loose growl in his throat, "You calling me a liar, mate?"

Joss continued to lounge in his chair, his eyes dancing with golden hues, "Are you? Mate?"

Murphy unhinged his spine but kept his tone tight, "Not now, Joss. It's my business; not yours."

"Your business is my business, Murph. Pack rules," Drawing his long legs up, Joss leaned forward, his voice a minute nuance of sound, "Or are you a lone wolf?"

Murphy's head snapped over to his friend, but before he could respond, Leslie Brere sashayed past his table with an easy smile. Ignoring Joss, she dropped a silk kerchief in Murphy's lap. It smelled of thistle and sunshine and had a smear of lipstick across one of the silk embroidered flowers.

"Meow," Joss called after her retreating back. To Murphy, he said, "She's no Lupin, and her Pride would kill you, but what a way to go, mate."

"You don't understand..." Murphy muttered without elaborating.

"I don't need to, I have eyes," Joss winked as he gathered himself up and clapped Murphy on the shoulder. "I won't hold it against ya if I don't see you around for a while."