#orleander

Shelley China ~ Porcelain Harebell Oleander Cream Soup Cups & Saucers

Every few weeks, like clockwork, there's a stray that comes in to the vet and when we're closed I let her in. She's a shifter, and every visit, she doesn't say a word. Idle chitchat was slowly becoming something. This would be our fifth or sixth meeting, the fifteenth of the month. 

It had snowed seven inches this morning, and three the night before. I thought she might have been dead, but the door rang and I was greeted with the matted mess of brown, black and blonde. From what I know of nonhumans, she's an adult, probably just out of adolescence. Bipedial, she's between two creatures that aren't in the same classes, reptile and some sort of feline.

She speaks english, and from time to time I've seen her walk around town, doing odd jobs for people. Since the winter has come around, she hasn't been doing anything for anyone. 

"Get in the tub." I said, motioning to the metal basin used to wash dogs. 

She tugged off her oversized hoody, pants and boots. They looked rather clean, maybe a wash and they would be okay. She would try to keep herself neat and nice, but something kept her backpedaling and she would be back for a shave and a pelt treatment.

"Did you eat?" I asked, using a metal pick and then used scissors to cut off the knots out of her mane. 

"I had some pizza." she mumbled. 

I shook my had. "I got some corned beef Iwas going to make some sandwiches... And some vegetables, you like green beans, yeah?" 

"I'm not--" A grumble from her gut made her groan. The matt were trimmed, then her arms and legs needed to be sheered.

"You need to brush this out." I said, the thick filth tangled masses coming off easily. 

I wish she kept herself together more often. She had white markings along her stomach, and segmented scales covered her navel to where her genitalia would be. Her hands her clawed, the palms pastel yellow and the backside of the hands a cross between coal and chocolate.  Along her spine were spikes, rounded much like the back of a crocodile, the same grey-brown as her hands. 

The spots were lovely, solid black on a some color between gold and tan. They weren't solid in shape, kind of blotchy, and along the sides and hips looked more like stripes. Her tail was long, spotted, then striped at the end. 

"Do you want me to salvage your hair or just shave it all off?" I asked, setting out bottlesof shampoo and conditioner. 

She touched it, and sighed. "It's gross." she said, turning to me, I could make out the shape of her brows and part of her eyes. "Can... any of it be styled?"

"We'll see." I said, then went back to cutting off more hair. It was someblack and since the weight was gone, stood up like a spring chick's fluff. Her face was round and feline stripes and spots decorated her cheeks and brow. 

I held up a hand mirror and she looked at herself. 

I handed off the soaps and shampoos and she scrubbed while I used the sink's hose to rinse her down. The lather didn't started until the third or fourth wash over. By then, she looked significantly better. She poured more soap and then I helped scrub her spines. Scales flaked off, and things that had been stuck on her skin,  scabs and such from healed wounds.

"We're gonna trim your claws, and I'm setting you up with a go away pack." I said. 

"You're not a shelter. Don't give me things for free." she said, pushing wet hair out of her eyes. She carefully climbed out the tub and followed me to the hairdriers. 

It took some time to dry her off, then get her into a set of fresh clothes while her other things were in the wash. During that, I called my assistant in. He owed me a favor, and housing a creature for a night was small.

I sat down at my desk and I hadn't even opened my lunchbag when she was in a chair beside me. The tall sandwich disappeared quickly, along with the pickle, and cold french fries as well. I held out a box of milk and she shot me a look.

"It's cat milk for kittens; where do you think I work, Missy?" I rolled my eyes, knowing how badly felines reacted to lactose. It was a sort formula used to feed orphan pets that can't eat solids. ".....do you want to work here."

She opened the box and drank the entire 11 fl oz  can. She licked her lips and shook the empty can. "....I'm not really... I'm not the best choice for this."

"You're good with people." I shrugged. "I've seen you around town. On time, you don't steal and you have quite the... pack mentality."

She licked her palms, and her pointed ears perked. The backdoor unlocked and Colby walked in babbling about how he brought in kibble for the stray I found. 

He paused to stare at us, finishing our meal. 

"I would like to know what to call you so I can fill out the paper work." I continued on, watching her to see what she would do. I was not a young filly myself anymore, and the wide eyed fluffed look she was giving my male assistant was a clear fight or flight tell. 

She cleared her throat and went back to staring at the can. "....Frigga Orleander." she said quietly. "The people I work for call me... Friggs."

I smiled. "Alright." I held out the packet of papers and a pen. "Just fill this out and afterwards, we'll talk about housing."

"I got a place." she said defensively, her tail fluffing up. 

I nodded, and stood up. I heard them both walk after me. Colby's thick boots after her clicking tallons. I went to the coffee maker and began making a small pot of decaf.

"Could you fill this with water and put it in the machine? My assistant wants a word with me, Frigga." I smiled warmly at her. She cast a look at him, the same look a wary Queen would cast any foreign body. She took the empty coffee pot and went to the sink to fill in.

"You told me a stray that needed a home." Colby hissed, looking irate. He was a nickel younger than me, but a full two heads taller than me. He was a bit on the lanky side, and did exceptional work with our dogs and bird patients. 

"I said a place to stay." I said pulling my glasses off my noise and using the eyeglass cleaner in my pocket to take a smear off my lenses. "We have room upstairs. We'll just finally get to sort out all that old junk from the previous owners."

"That's not a pet, Annie!" he sounded at the end of his rope. "that's a full fledged shifter and we don't deal in helping--"

"The door is right there then." I said, folding my arms over my chest. "Unlike other shifters, she is full sentient. Doesn't do drugs, she shows no hostility towards humans, and Frigga looks healthy. She's under fed, and for some reason is between animals and human."

"Shifters are all the same." Colby growled out.

"That is like saying every dog is the same. Every pet is like the next." I perked a brow, watching as Frigga clumsily got the coffee maker in order. "Some people need a little help and don't know how to ask."

"Annie what if she's just... what if she has ulterior motives."

"Then it'll be on my head." I shrugged. 

"Annie--" he started again.

"That will be Dr. Brookes if you keep this up."  I clapped my hands together. "We're going to set up the room up top as a room for her. And while that happens, she'll be working with you and helping out around the office. Do I make myself clear?"

Colby looked resigned. "This... doesn't sound..." His shoulders drooped and he surrendered. My word was law. 

I grinned and we turned to see Frigga standing there. She looked lost.

"I don't think I did it right," she looked at the mug in her hands, then back at the pot. I looked into her mug, the water almost as clear as green tea. 

I took a sip, "Tastes like shit." Frigga looked horrified, then I grinned. "Everyone sucks at making their first cup. Come on, I'll show you how to make a proper cup... What snacks did you bring Colby?"

He held up a box of baked goods by the handle. "Carrot cake. Mrs. Maple added in a zucchini muffin. She's been asking when the wedding is."

"Woman is gunning to make my cake." I snickered to Frigga. The scared look she was giving Colby earlier was slowly melting. She let out a tiny laugh.

"...Mrs. Maple... She makes really good apple loaf." she said quietly. 

Colby looked surprised. "So you can eat sweets?"

"Yeah.... She gives me apple loaf when I do deliveries for her." Frigga setting into the desk chair. I sat on the desk top and waited for the coffee to finish. It would be a couple hours before by boyfriend got off work. In the time, I hoped to solidify something with Frigga.

The talk wasn't fruitless. She liked fruits and fresh flowers. I couldn't wait for her to start working here. Frigga Orleander was good people. And I was a good judge of people.