M. Hoyvil ducked down and followed Antaska through the door to her room. Tiny Potat was sitting up and alert on the edge of the round bed nearest to the door. She looked as if she’d been waiting for them. M. Hoyvil was cheered a bit from his ponderous mood by seeing that Potat wasn’t hiding under the bed anymore. He lifted the corners of his eyes in a smile and greeted her.
“I’m glad to see you’re settling into your room…well, yours and Antaska’s,” M. Hoyvil amended. “I’m going to visit everyone in the big family room now. Then I’ll come back and get you for dinner,” he said to both Potat and Antaska.
He wasn’t sure if Potat would want to go with them to dinner, but he knew she’d be offended if she wasn’t invited.
With a bigger eye lift at both of them, M. Hoyvil turned and left the room. As he walked back to the family room, he came to a conclusion, similar to Antaska’s, that he needed to talk to someone more knowledgeable about what was bothering him.
I’ll talk to Mistress Bawbaw about this mating business, he decided. Even though adults are sometimes truly clueless, if anyone can help me with questions about females, it’s her. Mistress Bawbaw is a female, and she’s an older one too. And she’s actually had some good advice a few times in my hundreds of years living with her.
Then thoughts of Mistress Bawbaw, his primary female gene contributor, added a slight sadness to his already mixed bag of feelings.
She’s been there for most of my life, but after this week, I won’t see her much for the next 250 years while I’m traveling in space. Then when I come back, I’ll have to move away somewhere with a life partner to start my own family. Of course, I’ll visit at least every hundred years,” he promised himself.