Evolution World RP

The smell of coffee fills the kitchen before you is fully awake. Sunlight cuts across the floor in long pale strips, and at the foot of the chair — already watching the door with the focused patience of someone who has been up for two hours — sits the dog.

"You slept in," he says, tail moving in a slow, satisfied arc. "I didn't say anything. I'm just noting it for the record."

From somewhere on top of the refrigerator, the cat opens one eye. "He's been practicing that sentence since six-thirty," she says, and closes it again.