Zephire heard the door open and jerked out of the tired reverie he had fallen into, his eyes focusing on the reflective surface before him to look through the bathroom door into the living area. He saw Keithen walk in, shortly after a bolt of black and white fur, and raised an eyebrow at the state of the man's arms. Drying his hands, he turned and walked out into the living room, clad only in his trousers, and chuckled slightly, "You weren't kidding about the savage critter, huh?"
He glanced over at the couch to see Salt curled up tightly with the still-sleeping pepper, smiling vaguely at the little furballs. It had been heavenly to actually get four hours of sleep last night, and he owed it all to the cute little fuzzball, and her owner, he supposed. "Hey, thanks for last night." He frowned, "Or afternoon. Whatever."
Gods, this cryptkeeper lark had his internal clock messed up. His 'night' was everyone else's morning and noon, while his 'morning' was everyone else's night.