The house began to empty.
This did not happen all at once.
It happened piece by piece, with pauses in between, as if the house itself was unsure whether to object.
The humans moved differently that morning. They spoke in lists. They touched things longer than necessary. They opened doors and left them open.
Pebble noticed immediately.
Strangers arrived. They were large. They wore shoes indoors. They lifted furniture without asking and carried it away through the front door, where it disappeared into a truck that waited like it expected compliance.
Pebble objected.
She barked at the strangers. She barked at the furniture. She barked at the idea that things could leave and not return.
Mohg walked into the center of the room and sat down. The movers paused. They stepped around him. This felt correct.
As each item was lifted and carried away, Mohg watched attentively. If things were leaving, Mohg assumed they must have somewhere important to be.
Perhaps the table was needed elsewhere. Perhaps the couch was going on vacation. Perhaps the chair had been invited somewhere new.
Mohg did not see reason to interfere with plans.
He remained seated as the room changed shape around him, calm and present, as though seeing off travelers at the end of a long stay..
Pebble eventually stopped barking. She stood beside Mohg and looked at the space where the house had been full. It was quieter now. Larger. Unfamiliar.
Mohg leaned into her. If things were leaving, they would arrive somewhere else. And wherever they went, Mohg trusted they would be welcomed.
