Sleepy Fox Hollow The way she goes, Bubs

Anselm did not bother to hide the incredulous look on his face. Did Urchin-Breath really just invite herself into his home?

He was about to say absolutely fuckin' not, but remembered this was Etienne's sister. Besides -- What Would Etienne Do?

He sighed. He knew exactly what Etienne would do. Sister or no, the boy was a bleeding heart. It was one of the many things that endeared Etienne to Anselm; they were so very, very different.

Besides, as of late, Anselm was beginning to feel less and less proprietary of the Hollow. It was exhausting playing one-man enforcer: people traipsed all over his home without a shred of remorse, and besides, what good of a home was it? Emmerich wasn't returning. Wylla and Mahler were long gone. Anselm's reckoning had come in the bitter form of a small, angry widow -- and he realized he was clinging to something that didn't care to cling back.

So, let it go. Easier said than done; he supposed he owed Waxwing some sort of apology. Fine. At least this one wasn't hurt, like the last stray Etienne had gone and adopted. Her biggest crime was just that she stank. But take a bath before you start valking around. I do not vant to be smelling you veeks from now.