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9:35PM

It always took Sheridan a few tries to turn the key in the lock - three, this time. But finally he heard the click, and pushed it open with his shoulder - one hand still on the key, the other holding the egg to his chest.

He wasn't sure if he had stolen it, now. After all... he'd been offered one, he just took it without telling - and even then, Meru knew. And she didn't seem to mind at all - she was probably happy about. Still. he was the sort of person to have it bother him for a bit - he should have thought about his conscience before he took the thing.

Casting an eye over the scattered boxes and things, Sheridan was at a loss of what to do with the egg. Did it need to be kept warm? Just to be safe, he'd leave it on his bed, under his blankets - yeah, that seemed like an okay idea. There was bound to be something wrong with it, he didn't doubt - but only time would tell.

Sheridan kicked a few of the boxes aside as he made his way towards the bed - all in the same room, of course, since it was just a tiny studio. There, he set the egg down on the pillow, and pulled the blanket over it - then pulled it off again, wanting to look at it for a bit.

Not that it was very interesting.. well, he had to admit, it was interesting for an egg, with it's odd markings. But there wasn't an amazing much to look at, and he pulled the blanket over it again - kicking his way through the boxes to his desk.

6:05 AM

Sheridan woke up to the sound of a combination of his alarm clock and the neighbor's dog. The dog, he thought, did a better job than the little squeaking thing that he had, in many a morning, chucked at the wall across. A miracle it was still working. He fumbled with a switch on it's back, finally managing to get rid of the annoying sound.

He was about to roll over when he felt something pressing against him, into his abdomen. He remembered what it was the moment he regained his capacity to think. He lifted the blanket anyway - red-orange markings staring up at him. "Oh." He mumbled at it, although he was in no way surprised. Thank god it was Saturday. He needed to think about this, and to decide what he would do when he had to go to school.

Wait... if it was Saturday... why was he up at - he glanced sideways at the clock - six in the morning? He didn't get enough sleep as it is. Grumbling at the world he pulled the egg closer towards his chest, resting his chin on it's surface. He closed his eyes - then opened them again. If it was six in the morning... why wasn't it still dark?

Cursing more than he could ever remember cursing in his life he swung out of bed and punched the switch - which did effectively turn off the light, but made him yowl rather loudly - and the neighbor's dog started barking again.

11:40 AM

Sheridan came back almost exactly an hour later, with the straps of the plastic bag digging into his hand. He hated plastic bags - and any sort of bags - for that reason, and set the thing down on the counter rather distastefully, before walking to the bed and setting his messenger bag down. He'd take care of the egg later - anyway, it probably was nice and warm in there.

Instead, he went to sort out the food he had bought for himself - and for the egg, when it hatched. There wasn't much, though. Sheridan hadn't been eating much lately. He hoped the hatchling wouldn't complain. brushing his hair out of his eyes he closed the fridge, and breathed out slowly - something in between a tired sigh, and a sigh of relief at finally having something in the fridge.

He tore the list away from the magnet, and threw it at the plastic bag that held his garbage until he bothered to take it to the chute down the hallway.

He missed - but didn't have time to think bout that, because something else caught his attention. Something rather worrying, actually. A crack, and another. Amber eyes widened and he lept forward, turning towards the sound - on the bed, of course. Fragments of yellow-hued shell littering the covers, and a moving lump inside his messenger bag.

Sheridan swallowed, and stepped forward to investigate.

12:01 PM

The little faun was in the water, wriggling his little furred feet and splashing at the walls. Sheridan, not wanting to get wet, watched from behind the shower curtain - ready to ho in in case anything happened. But he had barely filled the tub, and the water only came to halfway up the hatchling's chest. Nothing could happen. Well, apart from a big wet mess.

The faun was actually making some noise now.. rather pleasantly happy sounds. A few minutes ago Sheridan had given him a bit of soap, rubbing it against his fur to show how it was done - but the child seemed to like playing catch with it more, and with a soft grumble, Sheridan pulled away the curtain to finish up the bath himself.

By the time they were done, the faun was clean and dry. Sheridan was clean - but not very dry. After he had smoothened that little detail out, he set about to wondering what to do next.

Well, he needed help. And.. Meru had told him he could look for help at their house. he was a bit sheepish at showing his head back there again, but it didn't look like he had any choice, if he wanted tot take care of the faun.

Now.. he blinked, watching the hatchling tug at the curtains - how to get themselves there? He had no clothes to fit a boy his size. And.. if would be rather weird, leading a tiny faun thought he streets. Sheridan never liked making a scene of himself. But he wasn't going to leave the creature alone, not after he had been hatched.

"Er... come here... we're going to visit friends."

4:15 PM

Well, they didn't seem to mind fruits and vegetables - those that they liked, of course (Neither would touch carrots, for some reason.) Sheridan wasn't sure if that was a good thing. On one hand it meant less cooking for him, and the other hand, it would mean he couldn't depend on frozen, microwaveable stuff anymore. It also meant more trips to the supermarket to restock. And, well, that meant more money spent, of course.

Piper had decided to perch herself on the table to have better access to the best vegetables on the platter, something that made Sheridan a bit nervous, and he made sure to hover close behind her. Pan, apparently the more quiet one, had found his own way of getting the best - simply taking entire handfuls, then picking out what he liked and throwing the rest on his sister's hands. Trying to prevent a faun-ish food fight, Sheridan made sure to scoop up all of these undesired bits and set them aside for himself.

This went on for a fastpaced few minutes, after which both fauns were full, and apparently sleepy. Sleepy fauns were grumpy fauns, and soon there was a miniature skirmish over which panpipes belonged to whom.

"Noo!" Sheridan wailed, tearing both the instruments out of their hands. "Go take a nap." He nudged both towards the bed gently, even as they jumped and writhed about and tried to get their panpipes back.

"You'll get them when you wake up!" Sheridan moaned. "Go to sleep now, i need to study!"

8:36 AM

Familiar scattered whistlings woke Sheridan up - a nice change from dogs and alarm clocks, but as annoying as anything. From the depths of his slumber, he tried to make himself turn it off - but coming up with no way to do this, he opened his eyes and at up, groaning as he did.

Both fauns were seated on the edge of the bed, playing their panpipes and kicking
their golden hooves as they did. For the first moments they did not notice Sheridan - but the creaking shift in the mattress alerted them, and which a flick of their soft, brown ears they turned to look backwards.

"Good morning." Sheridan mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

"Kood mrrrng." Piper smiled back, waving at him with her panpipes. Sheridan couldn't help but grin, swinging his legs out of his bed. He had fallen asleep in his clothes again, and upon looking down at his wrinkled shirt he smiled again. When he looked back up, Pan was gone. Well, not gone, really - the faun was standing at the fridge, trying to pull the door open.

"There's nothing in there." Sheridan mumbled, and stood up. "We have to go to the store." He hated going to the store - it was always cold, noisy, and smelled of fish. On top of it all, they just had to play music that the radio had stopped playing two years ago. But, well, he needed to feed himself and the fauns, and there wasn't any other way around it.

7:56 PM

Pan and Piper were making hooting sounds, and pointing towards the top of the fridge. A tried Sheridan, trying his best to get some work done, spend a good fifteen minutes trying to figure out what they were trying to say, when he realized that he had put the panpipes there while the fauns were eating their leafy dinners. And the name of the instrument was a bit of a mouthful.

"Panpipes." Sheridan repeated, for the seventh time, trying to get the fauns to pronounce it right before he handed them their toys. Never having been one for babytalk, and not liking having to guess everytime, Sheridan needed communication. Clear communication. Pan and Piper would have to learn, if they were going to get anything out of him.

A few minutes later, they had finally worked it out. But by then, the fauns had lost interest in playing with the instruments, and danced about the kitchen, chanting "Panpipes, panpipes!" and pushing Sheridan closer and closer into a hysterical madness.

Click-clack, click-clack, golden hooves on off-white tiles.

"Panpipes, panpipes, panpipes!"

The neighbor's dog started barking, and Sheridan crumbled to the flood in fits of laugher. The sort of laughter that kept you laughing long after you forgot what you were laughing about, just because the fact that you were laughing was more funny than what you were laughing at.

Two days later, 6:14 PM

Sheridan had to admit - the panpipes no longer made jumbled notes, at least not in the annoying way they had before. You couldn't call the faun's musical creations masterpieces - but they were beginning to take on the shape of a melody, like a simple nursery rhyme - the sort that was always stuck in your head, but which you could never attach any words to, or even a name.

Piper, it seemed, played however she wished, going from one note to another as she sat on the bed, kicking her furry brown legs and having a great time. Pan, on the other hand, practiced purposefully, the same tune over and over again, always watching Sheridan's reaction. And the young man actually began to wonder if they could learn how to play the instruments all by themselves, without anyone to teach them - it had seemed unlikely at first, but they were picking up fast.

"Tomato!" Piper squealed, casting her panpipes aside and clattering towards the kitchen, where Sheridan was unpacking groceries - he had stopped at the supermarket, after collecting the fauns from Meru's house. It wasn't quite the same hectic experience it had been last week - the two were behaving themselves, even though Piper did run off once or twice, and Pan got lost among the aisles.

Sheridan pulled out the tomato as he had been commanded, washing it down in the sink before handing it to the faun. "Share is with Pan, he's hungry too."

Piper stamped her hooves on the dirty tiles. "No!"

By now, the other faun had crept up to the kitchen as well, and was slowly making his way towards his sister, and her tomato. Piper took a few steps away, and made a show of biting into the vegetable (or fruit?). Sheridan shook his head, frustrated and tired - stepping forward to attempt to pull the tomato out of her small hands.

"NO!!" She shouted - but the shouts soon became squeals, then giggles, as her brown fur and Sheridan's black blouse were covered with bits of dripping red, from a tomato that had received too much pressure on it's sides.