Early evening. Spelunker again takes his nap curled up in a tight ball in Jabberwock's crate. Jabberwock comes over, carefully sniffs Spelunker's hair, then hops into his igloo, sitting side by side on the couch, curls up, and sleeps.
Bedtime. Jabberwock wanders in, hops up on the bed, and begs for some petting. Spelunker hops up, landing nearly on top of Jabberwock. Much hissing and bristling ensues, so I unceremoniously dump both off the bed with a sweep of my leg. They stalk off, separately.
Two-Faced comes up for petting, then leaves. Her attention span is incredibly short. A good snuggle from her is just not in the cards.
Jabberwock re-enters, interfaces with my hands for a bit, then backs off, curls, and seemingly sleeps. Two-Faced comes through, leaping onto the end of the bed as part of her "race track" loop. Jabberwock hisses; Two-Faced looks startled and leaves, which she would have done anyway, had he held his hiss.
Soon she is back, behind my head, on the opposite side of the bed. She begins to trek across, so I waylay her for some hugging. When that is over, she saunters over to Jabberwock, intending to sniff/lick as she does with Spelunker. When he flattens his ears and hisses, she leaves.
Minutes pass. She returns, clambering across my body when two crosseyed blue eyes target her. She is nonchalant, diffident. He does not hiss. She does not head straight toward him, but passes bare inches away.
Nearing dawn: I get warm and toss the comforter off, partially covering Jabberwock, who had earlier leapt for the safety of the floor when a sheet corner moved. Spelunker comes calling, leaping onto the far corner (close to Jabberwock) and curls up, soon to be zee-ing away. Two-Faced comes back to my head. I almost hate to disrupt such serenity, but the bathroom calls.
There will be peace in the valley someday soon.