Work Text:
Lee bent and scratched his ankle. Heat sweltered on the prairie, sprouting fat rivulets of sweat on his brow as he crouched with his daemon in anticipation for the Danes to round the corner. She became a hare whenever they played the game he so relished—lightning-fast, long ears alert. Her own favourite form was a swallow.
Then this would please her. “Fly up, see if Mr Gil’s horse is tied. We’ll snatch a cup of water if he’s out.”
Silence.
“Hester, you hear me?”
“What, boy?” she muttered. But her ears pricked high, excited.
Lee grinned. “You ain’t changing."