She sounded so tired. Getting by with eight people in one household and no facilities would be such a chore. Add the stress of rats getting into the food, tearing at sheets to get material for nests, crawling on them as they slept? I didn’t know how she’d coped.
No wonder they were getting ready to leave.
I hoped my dad’s situation was better.
Ouch, right in the feels.
Hey, maybe you should go visit him sometime, wherever he lives now.
“Make a note,” I ordered Sierra, “If these people are having trouble, it’s easily possible others are in similar straits. We’ll want a fresh set of supplies going out to everyone in my territory. For this family, a delivery of cleaning supplies; bleach, rubber gloves. They’ll want some new clothes, you can get their sizes after I leave. Supplies, of course, and containers to keep the food in. Tupperware. We’ll arrange for a doctor to come by and check them for bites, scratches and infections. Standard inoculations. The doctor will know how to handle that stuff better than we do.” Hopefully.
Now this is how you act as a benevolent ruler! Good job, Taylor.
Now we just need Sierra to burn the note with her fire breath so it travels to Miss Militia Coil.
Wait, what, you’re saying she doesn’t have fire breath? What kind of note-taking assistant doesn’t have magic mailing fire breath! Nonsense.
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