Recent content by Berchar Fleetfoot

Had Arthur meant any dry humour in his comment it was lost on Berchar, who shot the marten an anxious glare. Watching cat and fox brawl had set his own teeth on edge, fuzzy tailtip puffed with worry as he considered his friend enduring such torment merely for his sake. He knew Coddy to be a...

Concern deepened upon Aran’s reply: the young marten needed a more thorough examination than the middle of a crowd could afford. “Alright, try and keep yourself focused on one little thing,” he called above the din, closing his ears to the jeering taunts. They were nothing new. “If you start...

Blowing gently upon his own mug of tea, Berchar fought the impulse to fix Amnesty with his curious gaze. There was clearly something there, a frayed edge his claws were itching to pick at and unravel. It was becoming a habit of late: the usually insular jerboa had found a streak of kindness in...

Berchar cringed, wondering if perhaps he should try and de-escalate the situation before it brewed any further: as much as he’d love to see Coddy get his comeuppance there was Arthur’s wellbeing to consider – and not just inside the ring. What if his flatmate decided to make life more difficult...

As the marten began to succumb to the allure of sleep once again, Berchar could feel his own eyelids betray him despite the bubbling anxieties for his friend. There was much in his mind about the surgeon’s re-deployment in relation to his superiors; his own future in medicine, and just what to...

“Y-you what?” Panic suffused Berchar’s face, long whiskers twitching rapidly as he gaped at Arthur. The emotional part of him, the part longing for friendship and community and justice, squirmed gleefully at the thought of seeing Coddy pasted into the unrelenting floor of the warehouse. To his...

Guilt painted itself on the jerboa’s round features to think he had upset his friend in his already vulnerable state. The poor beast was only trying to lighten the mood from his sombre revelations, and much as Berchar would have liked to focus in on those again he did not think this was the time...

Without thinking the jerboa’s tail flicked back up at once when poked, the tufted end buffeting Arthur’s face. The gesture was not particularly forceful, but defensive. “C-cutman?!” he spluttered, “if I was do you think I’d be living in the Slups? I imagine they’d actually pay.” It wasn’t a...

Guilty alarm flashed in the jerboa’s eyes as he laughed. “Me?! Don’t be ridiculous.” He stared into the fire once again. “I…have a flatmate who does some shady dealings but nothing too severe, I don’t think. Not Misanthropy-scale, anyway. Anyway you’re right, but still…I can’t help but wonder...

He’d seen the fox behave with dramatic flair earlier that day, but for a shy fellow like Berchar he could feel his fur prickle. Was it purely embarrassment he felt, or was it deep shame that he, himself, could never pledge such an oath to a beast he’d hardly met? Cordan was willing to put his...

Berchar let the silence sit for a short while, staring at the flames flickering in the hearth to offer Arthur the space to vent his feelings. There was complexity there; a world away from his own experience, but a shame and frustration he knew all too well. It sat heavy on the soul, and he could...

“Is that not exactly what some of the best would say?” A wry smile on his snout, Berchar leaned against the doorframe as he spoke, head inclined to Amnesty. “I suppose you’re right, though I’ll only take “passable example of decent beast” for tonight if you both do. Anyway I couldn’t simply...

Though he knew well that Pomodu would be able to foot just about any bill in the Harbour save perhaps kitting the entire fleet and army out for war (but even then…) Berchar’s pride would not allow him to ask her to pay. He continued gathering coins as the fox seemed to dither on a price...

Throughout the telling Berchar listened with the intent focus of one genuinely interested in not merely the tale but the context surrounding it. He was not all that long arrived on Imperium shores by all accounts, roughly five seasons or so, but the Winter War was a well-known calamity even to...

It was becoming increasingly difficult, between the pounding rush of blood in his ears and the baying noise of the crowd, to make out the young marten’s words. Berchar frowned as he took a moment to process Aran’s answer. Understanding dawned on him in the same moment as the shattered glass did...