aus-der-traum:

Everyone busies themselves with stirring their coffee and steadfastly avoiding the slightest glance toward the corner of the room where Ursula (Hermann’s dæmon: a plump, sleek-furred raccoon with a magisterial, entitled strut to her pawsteps that more than match Göring

himself) has given one final, determined wriggle of her rear end before pouncing on the fluttering form of Goebbels’ dæmon Aello, clasping the tiny sparrow between her clever, greedy hands. 

Someone coughs and tries to draw the conversation onto some boisterous subject that will make it easier for them all to politely ignore how Goebbels’ stream of chatter has clattered to a sudden halt; to pretend that they don’t see the flush of pink painted across his face or notice the smug, lazy smile that’s spread across

Göring’s and certainly they’re all too preoccupied to pick up on the subtle sound of a soft raccoon tongue lapping away at a bundle of paralysed feathers. 

No one dares to challenge Göring‘s behaviour in his own kingdom and afterwards, if it is mentioned at all, it will be with a vague air and an appeal to eccentricity and a shared unspoken agreement there was no choked off whimper from the little doctor when Ursula had clambered into Hermann’s lap, allowed him pluck the trembling sparrow from her jaws and enclose it in his heavy fist.