Jaya glowered, tempted to snarl and knowing it would do him little good. A snarling Lupe could be terrifying--teeth like razors, a growl like thunder building in the chest--but a snarling Lenny was the punchline of a bad joke nobody cared to hear. Shoving down his frustration, Jaya gripped the handle of the refrigerator door and yanked it open none-too gently.
"Let's see..." Kyrin moseyed forward to crouch in front of the open door. Buttery yellow light bathed his features as he scanned the shelves. Jaya peered over his shoulder, searching for anything of promise. Morphing potions crowded worryingly close with cartons of milk and yoghurt containers.
"How about this one?" Kyrin suggested, pulling out a grey bottle with a ring through the cork.
Jaya scowled. "Absolutely not."
"Why not? S'Pirate, isn't it? That should be close enough."
"It's for a Pirate KOUGRA."
"And what's wrong with Pirate Kougras?"
"I'm not feeling particularly fond of Kougras in general right now."
"Egads, you're fussy," Kyrin muttered. "Maybe you should stay a Yellow Lenny. Sure suits your personality more."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jaya shot back.
"You're neurotic. And boring." Kyrin shrugged, looking mournful - as if he'd simply stated a sad fact and not a rather scathing character critique. "Least now, people won't mistake you for being cool."
"Look," Jaya said, pinching his brow--he could feel a migraine coming on--"if you're done being not remotely amusing, maybe you can shove over and let me have a look."
Kyrin threw up his paws in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. Bossy," he muttered, and swiped an old carton of milk from the fridge before clearing the way. The Faerie Kougra leaned back against the counter and opened the carton for a sniff. His nose wrinkled contemplatively and Jaya fought the urge to roll his eyes. The milk had gone off ages ago; he'd smelt it earlier that day, when his nose had been a proper Lupe nose and not whatever this paltry excuse for olfactory intake passed for among avian Neopets.
"Let's see," Jaya mumbled, peering into the fridge. Where had Kyrin got all these morphing potions, anyway? There had to be a few months' worths of rent bottled up in here. "You should invest in a mini-fridge," he said. "Or, you know. Keep your morphing potions at room temperature like a normal Neopet."
"Har har," Kyrin drawled. "You're hilarious, bird-brain."
Jaya paused with one wing outstretched toward a promising-looking grey bottle crammed next to the cottage cheese. He shot a glare over his shoulder. "Do NOT call me that. We are not joking about this."
And then he moved too quickly--it wasn't his fault, he wasn't used to his new limbs, the soft glide of feathers where he'd once had nimble claws--and his grip skated off the glass bottle. He lurched forward, panicking, but he'd only been bipedal for five minutes--his legs wobbled beneath him and his knees buckled, dumping him to the floor, and he'd dropped the bottle and dumped several others off the shelf. They fell to the floor, an avalanche of shattering glass and colourful liquid. Jaya stared, open-beaked, as the morphing potions mixed into a muddy pool on the floor.
For a moment, neither Jaya nor Kyrin uttered a sound. Then the carton slipped out of Kyrin's paws and joined the morphing potions on the floor.