A simple test of the spirit furs had come to an end.
"You've been like this every day lately," Tuzel remarked curiously, sinking comfortably into his recliner with a teacup in one hand.
Ruger raised an eyebrow. He was lying on his own Old Recliner, the two chairs set side by side. He was still in demon form, which was probably what Tuzel meant.
"Ah, such relaxation, such comfort. What a wonderful feeling. How long has it been? I was always meant to be a carefree rabbit, a noble creature of the Spirit World, brimming with spirituality and more special than any other." Tuzel took a tiny sip of tea and wiggled his ears contentedly.
Ruger glanced at him. The fellow could relax because their teacher's condition had improved. After a series of fairly successful refinements to the Flesh Cape, the great Tuzel had finally relaxed as well. Despite his complaints, he took his work seriously and never slacked off. Perhaps complaining was his way of relieving tension. Now he could finally unwind, as though a little holiday had arrived out of nowhere.
"Are they playing Rabbit Chess?" Ruger asked.
Only the two of them were on the enormous stump platform now.
Although Master's condition improved with the help of the Flesh Cape, Rabbit and Strange Hand still tacitly kept one of their number by Master's side.
"Yes. That cape is a fine thing, just a little ugly. Sir Immanuel ought to ask me to do some design work on it." Tuzel's eyes were half closed as he let the breeze ruffle his fur. "We still can't let our guard down completely. Besides, those two love playing that game. Right now, though, it's Master Tuzel's time to relax. I've already made arrangements with that wretched hand. When my turn comes,