#oblivious man

Veerle leaned against the window frame, one leg propped up on the sill and the coming autumn wind toying with his loose hair. Beneath him old stone disappeared in a sheer drop, his window of choice placed in the attic of the manor house. He cared not for the height though. Up here, under the darkening sky and far above the the jagged sea of shadowed trees surrounding his client’s property, one could encounter the other residents.

Bats. Many, many bats.

Swarms roosted in the hollow eaves and descended over the forest and craggy foothills each evening as the purple dusk fell. They’d swirl in smokey blooms from the windows, dispersing into the night air to feast.

A smile tugged on his lips as their shadows darted over the stone around him. Peculiar as it was he’d developed a great fondness for his more animal housemates in his time staying with Maxim. As captivating and curious as his eccentric host was the bats had a sweetness he sorely lacked. He’d been warned against them at first, Maxim having claimed they were temperamental and prone to biting, but Veerle had found no such issue.

If anything, they were downright cuddly.

As proven then by the sleepily still creature cradled in his arms. Despite how much he longed to, remembering and naming every bat was impossible. But it hadn’t stopped VR-LA from trying. He’d established a small handful he could reliably recognise, but his current companion was perhaps the most striking of them all. Maybe his favourite as well, not that he’d ever say so aloud.

It had dusty gold fur and pallid white eyes Veerle often found himself getting caught in. Eerie, but rather pretty. It was the colouration which it had earned the affectionate nickname Butter Moon. It had been perhaps the slowest to trust out of all he’d encountered so far, but after gradually endearing it to him with treats and tentative scritches they’d developed a rapport.

To the point where now Veerle could cuddle it to his chest with minimal wing flapping or chittering complaints. Though, its silence did seemed strangely brooding. But it was a bat. They had great personality as he’d learned, but he’d yet to meet a bat who brooded. Still, it huddled there now, wings curled over his hands, blank eyes staring into the dark, and tiny brows lowered in a furrow that amusingly reminded him of his host. Maxim’s forehead creased similarly, and he had the same cold paleness to his eyes.

Veerle snorted at the thought, the sound disturbing Butter Moon, whose wings twitched. In apology he gently scritched behind its ears. The fur slipped silken through his finger tips, as pleasant for him as it was likely the bat. A small grin spread across his face as its eyelids began to droop, large ears twitching almost encouragingly.