It was too early to be out of bed, too, but this was the only time of the day Olly would entertain her any more. He said it was his way of making sure she didn't slump back into old habits, chiefly moping in bed for weeks on end and forgetting to eat. The fact that he was teaching the rest of the day, and not quite up to the task any more, probably had something to do with it, too.
In all honesty, he probably ought to retire. People had been telling them that for years, but Daz had ignored them and always made sure he had a job as long as she was Archangel. It was hard to accept that her lifelong mentor and surrogate father was past his prime, but she had to admit she was kind of surprised he was still teaching even after she was removed from office.
Dante stepped on her foot. He was bigger now, his head at knee height when he walked along with her like this, and the feathers on his wings had really set in with a healthy black sheen. He was eating so much more, though, and was onto solid meat, most of which cost a fortune - although she was always happy when she was on a job because, eight times out of ten, it meant a free meal for him.
Daz couldn't tell if his foot-stomp was by accident or design, but it had the desired effect, pulling her out of her brainless meandering to realise she'd stopped dead almost mid-stride. The training grounds - what people affectionately, or not so affectionately, referred to as "the Pit" because it was essentially a large square filled with sand - stretched out before her, the wooden fence bordering it only a couple of feet away.
Thankfully, this was a bit early for most students, so the area was fairly quiet. Less people to annoy her, and less noise to put off a conversation if she or Olly wanted to talk instead of sitting there silently.
“Styx?” Calling his name, even if it was the one he used to scare his trainees, was about the only time her voice held any affection.
It probably said something for their relationship, and Dazadi's personality, that her relationship with him had out-lasted her marriage and any relationship she'd had with her son.
“Styx, you better be out here!” Reverting to muttering and grumbling, most of what she was saying not even real words - she usually couldn't be bothered to use actual words when muttering, since the purpose wasn't for others to understand what she was actually saying, only the grumpiness behind it - she schlomped forward, scanning the Pit for sight of him. She didn't want him to be in the armoury, even though she knew that's where he probably was; it was all the way on the other side of the training grounds, and she really didn't want to have to trek all the way over there, even knowing he'd make her.
“Styx!”