“Frieda,” Benton sighing; “remember what I said about change being difficult for me? Getting a dog is a big deal and a big change.”
“Are you not worried for my safety,” Frieda countering; “what if another group of men decide to break into our home?”
“It will be the last thing they ever do,” Benton looking serious; “I may have never taken a human life before, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do so, if you or Amanda are in danger.”
“Think of it this way,” Frieda trying to win the argument; “a dog will act as an added layer of security. May I remind you that when the staff left after you knocked out Jeffery, the security staff also left.”
Benton’s face contorts into a grim pout; his disposition souring as he understands Frieda’s logic, but he looks at his daughter as he comes up with his counter point.
“May I remind you,” Benton speaking; “that pets and weres don’t exactly get along.”
“Not if you get them while they are young,” Frieda countering; “that way they get use to our scent. While we may be were-panthers and are clearly stronger then normals,” Frieda adding; “that doesn’t mean there aren't disreputable weres that don’t make a living as criminals.”
“Even they would be foolish to break into my home,” Benton bristling.
“The ones in town maybe,” Frieda looking serious; “and we do have several shady weres in town.”
“And how do you know that,” Benton looking concerned; “has Spencer or Eric been dragging you to places of ill repute?”
“No,” Frieda snorting; “but when I had to babysit Darrel Cooper for the Sheriff and his girlfriend, I have overheard many times as he grumbled at having were-rats and were-skunks in his jail over petty crimes and the odd break-in.”
“Even a dog is no match for a were,” Benton responding; “local or out of town.”
“Yet when a were comes across a dog or any animal,” Frieda countering; “even they pause to determine if they have to bare their claws in self-defense.”
“Think of it this way,” Frieda speaking up before Benton could counter the argument; “you also need to take up a hobby. Looking after a large dog….”
“A dog is not a hobby,” Benton sighing; “it is a responsibility, and a big one at that. A hobby is something like stamp collecting or assembling models. Plus," Benton looking at his daughter; “you already have a pet snake, much to your mother’s bizarre phobia regarding them. What’s next after a dog, a bird?”
“By a bird,” Frieda smiling; “you mean a Raven so we can quote Edgar Allan Poe, then why not?”
“Now you are deliberately trying to get my goat,” Benton chuckling; "but in all seriousness, a dog is something we need to discuss with your mother. It’s not something you and I can just come home with and say to your mother, ‘Surprise!’”
“But you will consider getting a dog,” Frieda pressing the issue.
“We’ll talk about that with your mother,” Benton responding as he put his card down for the bill for the lunch; “with that being said, any other place you want to go to today?”
********
“Frieda has made a couple of comments to the photos we posted,” Eric looking at his phone.
Spencer hands her brother back to her mother who gently places the child in his crib; smiling as she happily coos the baby back to sleep.
“If you two don’t mind,” Maggie looking at Spencer and Eric; “talk downstairs. Let the baby sleep.”
Heeding Maggie’s advice, both Eric and Spencer head to the living room; sitting down on the sofa as they both read Frieda’s comments and a few others, while responding to a few of them. Evan quietly joins them, while his father Mike lawson who is now out of his werewolf fursona and currently busy warming up the bbq.
“Mike will be getting lunch going in a bit,” Evan looking at the two; “in the meantime, let’s talk about last night.”
“Well,” Spencer putting down her phone and encouraging Eric to do the same; “you already know the major details dad. Four men break into Benton’s house as we were just starting to eat supper with the cubs we were babysitting. I knock out one of the men…”
“Yes,” Evan stopping his daughter; “yet the other three were killed. One by you Spencer; another by the butler and the third by Eric here. It’s the last that you wanted us to discuss,” Evan looking at his daughter then at Eric; “so let’s talk about having to take a life and how… uncomfortable it can be.”
“Spencer did say,” Eric sighing; “that you would be the best person to get advice on dealing with killing a person. You being a former Navy Seal and all Evan.”
“It’s not easy having to take a person’s life,” Evan looking serious; “more so if you see the person’s eyes as their life fades. I’m assuming that is what you experienced Eric.”
“Watching him struggle as he fought to take a breath,” Eric shuddering; “hearing his last heartbeats, how do I live with that?”
“One day at a time,” Evan answers; “while I cannot get into the details of some of my missions. As they are all still classified; I can tell you that yes I have had to kill a person.”
“What about Bower Sr,” Spencer speaking up; “surely you can discuss that.”
“I suppose,” Evan sighing; “he did cause us all and this town some grief trying to help his son whisk you away. But I will be honest with you both,” Evan sighing; “I took a measure of satisfaction, plunging my blade into him. Yes I was up close and saw him die. Yet not a day goes by,” Evan looking sad; “that I don’t see the man’s face and the faces of everyone else I killed invade my dreams now and then.”
“So you never get over it,” Eric sighs; looking at his hands as he is not in his fursona. “Does that mean I’ll be a emotional wreck every time I shift into my fursona and try to hunt?”
“Is that what this is about,” Evan looking at Eric; “your feel you can’t stomach taking a life after watching someone die by your own paws?”
“Yes,” Eric nearly whispering; “when I punched that man armed with a crowbar, I heard his sternum shatter. Now I knew from reading that town pamphlet that weres are stronger than a normal. But to be able to shatter one of the strongest bones in the human body?”
“We are stronger than a normal person,” Evan responding; “that much is clear. Yet like a normal, we can become stronger when are body is flushed with adrenaline. Just like when you are running, chasing down a large animal, you feel that surge of energy; that primal rush, as you tackle your quarry down. Thats adrenaline, the same that you had when you slugged that man last night. Eric," Evan placing a comforting hand on the boy; “these feelings you have, they will go away in time.”
“When,” Eric looking glum; “before I had to take that man’s life, I enjoyed hunting. Killing a buck or catching a rabbit to snack on; now, I’m not so sure.”
“Can’t answer that kid,” Mike joining in the conversation; “but like a kidney stone, those thoughts too will pass.”
“Grandpa,” Spencer wincing at the graphic image Mike just gave them; “did you have to say that before we eat?”
“You don’t even know the whole story,” Evan growling at his father.
“I heard enough to get a good idea as to what Eric is going through,” Mike answering; “and like you son, my dreams are also haunted by the men I killed. It’s why I don’t talk about my time in the trenches of France and Belgium much. There are horrors I experienced,” Mike remembering his time in world war one; “that I don’t ever want to share with either of you.”
“But you have no issue with hunting,” Eric looking at the elder man; “how do you not let what you did effect you as you take the life of buck?”
“Easy,” Mike answering; “I tell myself, I did what was right at the time and I refuse to let it hold me back. Now if you want, you can help me with the steaks for lunch or you can sit here and wallow in self-pity, your choice.