Alder's Grove

The mold was finally complete, the crucible awaited, and the casting was ready to be poured. Almost ready.

Zenobia was not known for kindness, softness, or gentle feelings, and yet she found herself hesitating.

The man sitting at her kitchen table had no doubts at all. He was struggling violently...

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To ellenmillion's prompt, with a side of stryck's prompt.

Zenobia is an Aunt from the Aunt Family; her stories are here. Prompting her was kelkyag
Zenobia was taking an interest in zoology.

She hadn't done this solely, or even primarily, to irritate her family, although it served this purpose admirably.

It entertained her to speak to the relatives about other species that might exhibit the spark. "And what about octopuses? They have so many hands, can you imagine them reading a tarot? It would have to be a waterproof tarot, of course..."

That hadn't been the one that had really irritated them. Zonkey, Zonkey had really gotten to her nieces and nephews. They already thought that she was more than a little zany, and, of course, she was stubborn in her refusal to die or otherwise give up her position, but zonkies? Really? Worse was when she added two to the family stables.
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For rix_scaedu's commissioned prompt, after That Damn Cat (LJ) and Bless the Cat (LJ).

Aunt Family has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ


Zenobia had held on to a hundred and ten, not because she really was enjoying life anymore, not even with every charm she could come up with, but simply to irritate her family.

This also meant that her niece was not young and, possibly, Zenobia considered, rather irritated as well, which hadn't really been her point. Of the seventeen potentials, Elenora had always been her favorite niece for the position, and she'd made an effort, as much as she did with anyone, at least, to be friendly with the girl.
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Next: Legacy Cat (LJ)

For rix_scaedu's commissioned prompt.

Aunt Family has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ


Zenobia didn't give the cat a name, but she did leave a bowl of cream out for him every morning, and a bit of her dinner meat every evening.

Her Aunt Beulah had left her the cat, along with the property and the title, when she vanished into the mist one late-November evening. He was, at that point, already an elderly cat, if family memory held, but, in this case, family memory, generally a very reliable thing, seemed to falter.

That was to say, that while family memory seemed to agree that the cat had been around for quite a while, it seemed to falter horribly, no matter which particular family member one was talking to, if pressed on the details. When had Beulah gotten the cat? Well, she'd gotten it from her Aunt Mary.
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Next: Bless the Cat (LJ)