Writing Exercise 5/9/19 Nightly Ritual

Patrick blinked slowly at Sheila as she walked past and patted him on the head. Stretching his legs, he rose to follow her.  It was their nightly ritual, and he knew exactly where she was headed; the bedroom.

“My human is so graceful,” Patrick thought, watching her glide around the room lighting candles. He knew it was harder for her, with her two ungainly legs, to achieve such grace, and it made him proud.  Jumping up, he settled onto the bedroom bench at the foot of the bed and continued to watch her. He curled up on the soft, plush pillow and murred sleepily.

Sheila lit some dragon’s blood incense, and a thin line of smoke drifted from the little red cone, filling the room with a sweet and soft calming scent. She took a deep breath and sighed contentedly, then pressed play on her stereo; a soft melody with a soothing chant in another language began to play, setting the mood.

Patrick let his eyes drift closed, and took in the sounds and scents filling the air around him; he felt so serene and peaceful. Though he could no longer see her, he knew by the swishing sounds of her dress that she was walking toward him. A small round rug lay on the floor at the foot of the bed, black with a silver pentacle in the center, its points reaching out to the edges of the circle. It was the perfect size for Sheila to sit in, cross legged, and still have a little room around her. He opened his eyes and saw that she was seated, her hands resting on her knees.

“And now I watch over her, and guard her while she is gone,” Patrick thought, watching her close her eyes and sway gently to the music. He saw the barrier go up around her, encircling the little rug in a bubble of protective energy, and sat up, alert, dropping his sleepy pretense completely.

Small globes of light filled the room, dancing erratically around the shining bubble containing Sheila. Patrick sat still, but his eyes zipped back and forth, following their movement. He remained calm and composed; this was distracting, but expected. The ritual always drew curious energy and stray fey with nothing better to do would wander in and watch. Patrick knew they were welcome, and left them alone.

A tall dark shadow crept out of the full length mirror on the back of the door and slid along the wall towards Sheila; now was the time for action. He jumped down off of the bench and moved silently but swiftly to intercept the shadow creature. Patrick bared his fangs and growled, his hair standing on end. The creature paused, and shrunk down to half its size. He swiped at it with his sharp claws, and it zipped back the way it had come. Following it and making sure to keep his teeth bared, he watched as it slipped back into the mirror and disappeared.

Patrick settled down in front of the mirror, just in case the creature returned. He glanced over at Sheila, and noticed the small globes of light had wandered away, curiosity satisfied, during his encounter. The bubble of protective light slid open and dissipated, energy disbursing back into the universe. His whole body relaxed as he knew his watch was now over.

Sheila rose and turned the music off, then put out the candles; the incense had long since finished burning. The ritual was over, and it was time for bed. She slid out of her dress and into a comfortable nightshirt, then climbed into bed, and Patrick quickly hopped up and joined her. Settling onto her chest, her purred loudly; she smiled and kissed his little nose.

“I love you, Patrick.” Sheila whispered, and lay back into her pillows, closing her eyes with a contented smile.

“I love you, Sheila,” Patrick thought as hard as he could, and knew she would understand with her heart if not her ears. He purred louder and shut his eyes, too.