The vacuum arrived loudly.
It moved without greeting, announced itself with force, and began rearranging the floor as though this were expected.
Pebble responded immediately.
She followed it at a precise distance, barking whenever it advanced and circling whenever it paused. She treated it as an enemy that could not be trusted to stay in one place. Wherever it went, she went too, certain that leaving it unattended would be a mistake.
Mohg watched from the hallway.
He observed the vacuum’s movements, its uneven pauses, the way it startled itself when it met corners. After a moment, he approached slowly and sat nearby, careful not to block its path.
The vacuum stopped.
Mohg remained where he was.
He tilted his head slightly, as one does when encountering a nervous guest. He did not bark. He did not retreat. He waited, offering his presence without expectation.
The vacuum resumed its task.
Pebble chased it into the next room, still barking, still vigilant. Mohg followed at a respectful distance, sitting each time the vacuum hesitated, as if reassuring it that the house was safe and it was allowed to continue.
Room by room, the pattern repeated.
Pebble pursued.
Mohg supervised.
The vacuum advanced, retreated, and tried again.
The floor grew cleaner in patches, then dirtier in others. Lines appeared and disappeared. Progress was made and immediately undone.
Eventually, the vacuum was turned off.
Pebble stood victorious.
Mohg remained seated beside it for a moment longer, just in case it needed company before leaving.
The vacuum never finished its task.
Mohg seemed satisfied anyway.
