Saoirse's Adventures Pt. 04
Saoirse spent most of her day napping and wandering the dim building. She couldn't start a fire indoors for her dinner or use any lights that faced the lake, so as the sun set, she gravitated to the basement. There were no windows and in one of the disused break rooms she'd found an ancient microwave, still plugged in with a cup inside, containing the dried remains of a tea bag.
Further down the dusty basement hallways, Saoirse found an unexpectedly plush office. A mahogany desk carved with graceful birds at its corners dominated the room. The rolling chair behind it was clearly of an older style, but looked both comfortable and barely used, and the velvety maroon carpet still had lines and footprints from its last vacuuming. Best of all, the office featured an overstuffed couch with a fold-out bed.
"Mah-hogany," Saoirse whispered to herself, deciding to move her camp to that office. After a little snooping, she found that the desk and file cabinets were empty, cleared out like all the other offices. "I'm sleeping on a real bed tonight!" Saoirse declared to herself, looking around. She was feeling very proud of her find when she heard her name echoing furtively from the door.
"In here, Arthur!" called Saoirse, stepping into the hall.
Though she appeared mostly human, Saoirse had catlike ears with pale yellow fur, matching the hair on her head and the fluff on her knee-length tail, looking slightly brighter than usual against her suntanned skin. She still wore her swimming clothes: an old tie-dye shirt and a pair of pajama shorts, with no bra or underwear.
A rumble in the stairway up the hall preceded Arthur's approach. Arthur was tall and thin, with shoulder-length dark curly hair, olive skin, far too many freckles, and a pair of large black-feathered wings. He wore the same hoodie and swim shorts Saoirse had last seen him in, but also carried a full backpack over each shoulder and a hefty water bottle. He smelled like fried food, and it made Saoirse both jealous and hungry; even if the microwave worked, her dinner that night would be rehydrated mashed potatoes, canned chicken, and instant coffee.
Arthur stopped when he met Saoirse in the hallway and set down the bags and water bottle. "I know you're staying upstairs, would you mind if I peed before carrying these up there?"
Saoirse had to bite back a laugh of disbelief: that morning she had agreed to let Arthur pee all around the office building in exchange for...
"For what exactly," sighed Saoirse.
"What?" panted Arthur, clutching himself and bouncing noticeably. "Are you okay?"
Saoirse's face reddened. "Yeah, sorry. Except for you, I've been alone for the past three or four days and I'm starting to get a little weird."
"Understandabl-" Arthur paused and pressed his legs together. "Do you mind if I run off for a pee?"
"You don't need to ask permission, just tell me when and where you're going," said Saoirse. "I'm going upstairs to get my stuff. I'm moving my campsite down here tonight."
Arthur nodded and rushed away down the hall while Saoirse headed upstairs to gather up her supplies.
When Saoirse trotted down the stairs less than five minutes later. Something didn't seem right: ragged breathing echoed up the hallway and Saoirse's keen sense of smell picked up the distinct tang of distressed, specifically andyne urine.
"Arthur?" called Saoirse, stopping next to Arthur's bags in the basement hallway.
"In here," Arthur replied, oddly unenthusiastic. It was coming from the plush office. Saoirse's stomach dropped, and she hoped that Arthur at least hadn't pissed all over the couch.
Arthur stood next to the couch, and yanked his hoodie down over his crotch when Saoirse reached the doorway. There was a wet spot in his clothes, but not anywhere else, and he was oddly gray underneath his freckles. His jade green eyes were wide, and his expression was pained.
"What's wrong?" asked Saoirse slowly.
Arthur took a deep breath. "Have you got any scissors?"
"I have a utility knife. Why?" Saoirse noticed that Arthur had one hand in his pants, which might have been cupping his-
"Please don't laugh," panted Arthur. "I...I tied my kynodesme too tight."
"Your...what?" Saoirse figured that she'd been successful at not laughing, at least, and counted that as a small win.
"A leather string, basically," Arthur explained. "I got it as a gag gift, and I put it on today but tied it on too tight."
"I'm good at untying knots if you need help," offered Saoirse. She still had no idea what Arthur had tied onto himself. "Where is it?"
Arthur whimpered. "Are you sure you want to know?"
Saoirse looked Arthur up and down for a long moment. Arthur's wings were shaking and he was clearly in distress. "I'm probably going to regret this, but yes."
"It's tied-" Arthur trailed off, mumbling. Saoirse's catlike renoige half gave her sharper hearing than most, but he'd said it too fast to understand.
"Could you repeat that?"
"It's tied around my foreskin," keened Arthur.
Though she wasn't tempted to laugh, Saoirse resisted the urge to facepalm. "Let's see it, then."
Arthur shook his head. "It's okay, really. Can I just cut it off with your knife? I promise I'll clean it after!"