It's summer, it's hot, it's school vacation, and I have nothing to do. Written mostly out of boredom.

Disclaimer: Really, does anyone actually read the "Disclaimer"? *sighs* All right, here it goes: I don not own anything, every character belongs to Anne Bishop, I'm just borrowing thm for a little while.

Hope you memorised that because I am not doing that again.

The Pet

He loved his son. He really did. But, at the moment, looking at the black, shinny animal wobbling idly across his pristinely cleaned kitchen floor, making little cricket sounds, he didn't like the little beast very much.

Hell's Fire, Mother Night and may the Darkness be merciful, how the Hell was he going to tell his darling hearth witch that her son, Daemonar, had brought his new pet dung beetle home?


Ideas would be good.