Fossa: Masala Chai

I woke up inside of a pinecone. A humid draft of spices wafted from the kitchen, and a light rain pattered on the window panes. This was a day for adventure. But maybe not just yet.

My sister's high and chittering voice coaxed me further out of sleep. I stood, straightened my boxers, threw on a robe, and stuck my head out the door into the hallway.

MaryAnne was standing just a few whiskers away, holding a plate of cinnamon rolls with icing dripping down the sides, and she fanned their scent toward me with her tail. The rolls were huge, almost half the size of an acorn, so that just three of them covered the entire tray.

"What did you do?" I asked her.

"I made cinnamon rolls, obviously! For my big brother, on his big day!"

"Yeah but I mean, what is it you're trying to soften me up for?"

"Oh come on, at least taste one first, won't you?"

"Is there coffee?"

"Of course there's coffee."

"Ok fine," I said, and trudged toward the stairway. "I do prefer to contend with The Horrors while properly caffeinated."

"And fed!" she added, following me up the central spiral toward the kitchen.

"If I actually down one of those in its entirety, I'll be fed through a tube until I recover from the diabetic coma."

"Food is fuel!" She set the plate on the table and sat across from me, then poured herself a cup of coffee from the steaming carafe. I used the pie knife set out beside the tray to cut one of the enormous rolls in half, then shoveled it onto my plate. I went back for a puddle of icing that had melted off, and returned it to its rightful place on top of the roll.

"Unnf," I moaned, chewing a bite of goey roll. My sister swiveled her ears forward in pride. "Tuber-face, what sorcery did you put in these things?"

"Cardamom," she squeeked, whiskers dancing. "Well, and chestnut flour and lots of other things, but it's the cardamom mainly that causes that noise." She slid the other half of the roll onto her own plate.

"Ok, fine," I said, for the second time (I realized). "I admit that you're not an entirely valueless compaion, and I might even be willing to overlook certain minor infractions. Now tell me the real reason you got up early to wake me with cinnamon rolls the size of my head."

"...why don't you have some more coffee. It's nothing, really, but don't you think—"

I removed my still-half-full cup from her paws. Set it down again. Looked at her.

"Ok, fine," she said this time. "I just... I might have told Violet she could go with you today."