“Erh, hey? This is our stop.”
A hand gripped her shoulder lightly before a quick release, but Calliope still felt the looming presence as she came awake, one eye popping open to peer upward curiously. A rather plump man was standing over her, solid brown eyes full of kindness as he waited to make sure she was awake before departing. Waving goodbye to her brief companion, Calliope grabbed her luggage and got off the train. She moved slowly, but only because of the pet carrier she was toting as well as her own impressive backpack. The backpack had seen better days, having been used for numerous rough hikes through mountains and forests, but it suited her body and could hold anything she needed without leaving too much room for the unnecessary.
“I've got him, thanks.” Waving away the taxi driver when he tried to grab for Rosco, her orange-and-white tom, Calliope slid into the cab and plopped her pet down beside her. She didn't know what Rayne would say, but Rosco was her family and her responsibility and even for a cat he was easy to keep around – didn't need a litter box or even food most of the time if his hunting went well. She certainly couldn't leave him with her family and their new problematic foster dog. A brief worry surfaced regarding predators, but Rosco was a barn cat and a veteran – foxes, coyotes, such predators were commonplace. Settling back into the seat, Calliope told the driver her destination
The drive flew by, though perhaps that was because Calliope was tagging alongside Roland Deschain in the fiftieth reread of The Gunslinger. Her posture was comical, having slid down in the seat until her legs were resting against the back of the front passenger seat and her head well below the headrest. Chewing on her lower lip, Calliope endured the ride in pleasurable silence and when the taxi driver brought the car to stop, she gave him a hefty tip for not being talkative and bothersome. It was only fair, since everything else was apparently paid for. A frown furrowed her brow at that thought, but Calliope couldn't retain the worry long as she got her first glimpse of the lake house and its surroundings. Duly impressed, she let the cabbie help her out and slid her backpack onto one shoulder. Rosco made a grumbling noise from the ground, displeased with his continued imprisonment.
After a thorough evaluation of her surroundings, she finally zoned in on the house's porch and the gathering there. She immediately recognized Rayne and thought the other fellow looked familiar, but she couldn't immediately place him. As everyone was busy greeting each other, Calliope was capable of walking up relatively unnoticed. Setting Rosco to the side and out of harm's way, she dropped her backpack to the ground and peered up at the grouping with a quicksilver smile.
“Hullo, Rayne. Hullo, other people. I am Calliope.” Her eyes flickered briefly, recalling the various reactions her name inspired, but wariness over potential pending jokes was simply too much effort and a second smile briefly lit her face.