For a second, I don’t understand what I’m looking at.
He’s not in his little wooden cave. Not tucked away, not hidden like he usually is when he’s unsettled.
He’s out. Fully out. Sitting in the middle of the wood shavings like he’s been caught mid-thought and has absolutely no idea what to do next.
That’s—
Not normal.
I lean in slightly, frowning, then see what the problem is.
“Oh, Heath,” I say softly.
There’s no delicate way to dress it up. He’s clearly been in his cave and panicked and shit himself in there. Like, poop galore. Enough that the cave is now… unusable. Which means he’s abandoned it entirely and now has nowhere to hide.
Brilliant.
I scoop him up gently, feeling the slight tremor running through him. He doesn’t resist, which is never a good sign.
“It’s all right,” I murmur, thumb brushing lightly along his side. “It’s fine. We’ll sort it.”
Behind me, Mark steps closer, quiet enough not to startle either of us.
“What’s going on?”
I glance at him, then back at Heath, then back at him again.
“He crapped himself.”
There’s a beat.
Then Mark huffs out a laugh he clearly wasn’t planning on.
I feel mine follow a second later, quieter, a bit helpless.
“He was in his cave and panicked,” I add. “So now the cave’s a write-off and he’s got nowhere to hide.”
Mark shakes his head, still smiling. “That’s rough.”
“It’s not his finest moment.”
“No,” he says. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
I adjust my grip on Heath, trying to shield him a bit from the open space, from the light, from everything that’s probably making this worse.
“He’s stressed,” I say, because I feel like that needs stating again.
“Yeah.”
I let out a breath, the last of the laugh fading as I look down at him.
“Do you have kitchen roll?” I ask. “And maybe a box or something he can hide in while I clean this out. All this light isn’t helping.”
Mark glances up at the ceiling, then back at me. “Hang on.”
He moves without fuss, crossing the room and switching off the main light. The change is immediate. The space softens, shadows settling instead of the harsh brightness pressing in.
He flicks on a couple of lamps instead. Warm, low light spreading through the room, catching on the pale wood, turning it from clean to comfortable.
