An Average Morning

It was early. Too early. Mesa wasn't sure why he'd woken up. He slept on a mat on his floor (this wasn't necessarily a custom among the Grass-Spiders - while it was common in Lookshy, many of the Grass-Spiders had actual beds; Mesa was just too lazy to get one). Judging by the light pouring into his window, it was well before zenith - too early for Mesa. He grumbled and rolled over, pushing the sheets aside and lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. It was movement in his peripheral vision that caught his eye. He looked over to his right (Mesa's bed was against the wall, so looking left wouldn't have been a productive exercise) and saw a black boot, and upon turning his head fully, saw several more. All in all, he saw about a dozen black boots, which meant there were six people in his bedroom. Realizing this was something he probably couldn't put off dealing with, he was at least hoping to have some coffee first. Ignoring the figures standing in his room for a moment, he scanned his room for his coffee mug; he spotted it, but it was unfortunately sitting on a table on the other end of the room. All six of the intruders stood between he and it. That was awfully disappointing. Mesa sighed, getting to his feet with a groan and some effort. He surveyed the invaders more closely. They were all swathed from head-to-toe in black - Mesa made a mental note to tell these guys that their choice of camouflage was really poor for an invasion of range homes at the ass crack of dawn. Their faces were covered, unsurprisingly. The portion of cloth covering their mouths was white, which Mesa assumed had some significance, but pre-coffee Mesa had little inclination to ponder such mysteries. He finally addressed the attackers, several of whom already had weapons drawn, ranging from kusarigama to tantos.

"As much as I could see some of the people I hang around with using guys like you as a courier service, I'm guessing you all aren't here to deliver my mail."

Par for the course, none of them replied; the only semblance of a response that Mesa received was another one of the invaders drawing his weapon, another tanto. Mesa sighed, again gazing longingly to the coffee mug at the other end of the room. He cracked his neck to the left, then to the right, and shook his arms loose a few times.

"Alright, let's do this."