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“Well look at what the cat dragged in.”
It was just like any other night that Angel returned from work. And just like any other night, he pulled himself along in a beeline for Husk’s bar, flopping gangly limbs onto a near stool. At Husk’s deep, chiding voice, Angel seemed to perk up, the alone and silent contemplation of his walk broken.
“The only cat who should be *dragging* me is you, big boy.”
And he was back at it again. Husk made a gruff noise of disapproval. Angel was coping on all fronts. Flirting, joking playfully.
Escapism.