>>53443265>A quick glance at the TV showed the exact same man who was on your bed.>A local newsman, from the station a town over, reporting on the new Luvdisc aquarium exhibit.>Zoroark’s illusion subtly changed as she stared at the screen.>It was hard to determine exactly how, but you noticed she sat up straighter as you sat the tray on the mattress. >”How does it look?” She asked.>Her pitch and cadence perfectly matched the man’s professionalism.>You only caught a second-long glance of the reporter before they moved to a different topic, however.>Zoroark snarled in a decidedly inhuman tone at the inconvenience.“I sure can’t tell.” You answered.
>”You barely saw…” Zoroark griped, dispelling the illusion with a theatric snap of her crimson claws.“Well, it sure sounded professional.” You answered. “Would’ve fooled anyone who wasn’t a close friend.”
>That brought her spirits up, as did the scents of breakfast.>”Now just what did you bring in?” She asked, bringing herself eye-to-eye with you by squatting on the bed.“Uh, well, it’s everything you like.” You said, a bit off-balance by the obvious question.
>It wasn’t like she couldn’t see it.>You paused.>She wasn’t talking about the feast in your hands.>Zoroark grinned at your realization.>She nodded at the still open bedroom door.>”Shhhh…” She whispered. >Zoroark’s blue eyes darted around the bedroom.>To the open closet.>Over the TV.>At the nightstand.>And the laundry basket.>”Breakfast is good!” Zoroark chirped, leaping off the bed in a red and black blur to close the bedroom door with an unnecessary slam.>”I smell pancakes…” She noted, walking to the open closet doors.>She sniffed the air near the closet for a moment before closing the doors.>”Oh, and hashbrowns! You make excellent hashbrowns.” Zoroark praised, sauntering to the TV.>You nodded at the compliment. Your potatoes always did turn out well.>The secret was the sweet onion with it.