Xavier stepped aside, jerking his chin toward the living room. "Come in before the neighbors get a heart attack."
The beastman dipped his head once, the motion sharp but respectful, then padded inside. His clawed feet clicked faintly against the floor. Xavier shut the door behind them, running a hand through his wet hair, still not bothering to cover himself fully. He tossed a towel over his shoulders on the way to the kitchen counter.
"You drink?" Xavier asked, rummaging through the fridge.
The beastman tilted his head. "Water."
"Simple enough." Xavier poured him a tall glass, slid it across the counter. The beastman caught it delicately with those clawed hands, as if afraid he might crack the glass. He drank slowly, throat rumbling with each swallow.
When he finished, he set the cup down and reached over his shoulder. With a steady motion, he untied the rope binding the cylindrical container to his back. He laid it across the counter like it carried history itself.
