Recent content by Ruffano Quickwhistle

Ruffano Quickwhistle was full on skulking. Lurking. Circling the perimeter of the grand Opera House with all the restraint of a wine cork wedged in a cannon barrel. The ridiculous building stood like a painted pastry, all polished marble and gaudy embellishment, and tonight it was reserved for...

Ruffano waved a paw flippantly toward the ferret, as if batting away a bad review. "Yes, yes, the kits are mine...at least for the day. Crocket and Finnbar." He gestured vaguely toward the two shapes down the alley. "And no, I don’t like blueberries. They’re sour and make me blue, inside and...

Ruffano nodded at the wildcat's response. He adjusted the oversized bracelet on his wrist with a subtle flourish, then let out a short, amused breath. “Ah! Now I see where the misunderstanding lies, noble Lynx.” He turned more fully toward Tal’Rakan, lifting his paws in a gesture both...

Ruffano chuckled into his glass, a little too loud, a little too long. The warmth of spiced rum had settled nicely into his chest, coaxing out that familiar haze where everything seemed funnier than it was. He swirled what remained of his drink and looked toward Marianna with a crooked grin...

The alley behind the Velveteen Curtain was narrow, damp, and smelled of something awful. A crooked lamp hung above a sagging stage door, its flickering light just barely illuminating the faded paint around the knob, once red, but now a peeling film of neglect. Ruffano adjusted his vest, squared...

Ruffano had just leaned back to enjoy another sip of his spiced cocktail when the wildcat’s voice cut through the lull with its strange, deliberate cadence. He turned, ears perking slightly as Tal’Rakan regarded him with open curiosity. The fox’s grin returned at once, softening into something...

The streets thickened with foot traffic as they moved inward. Buildings pressed in on either side, some narrow and some stacked, most worn by the decades of sea breeze and warfare. The Trenches. Named not for war, but for the way the tall façades and narrow passages made one feel sunken and...

Ruffano swirled the last of his drink in its glass before downing it in a single tip, blinking slow and heavy through the pleasant fog of fine alcohol clouding his mind. Caden's question lingered just long enough for him to register it, and then, with a dramatic sigh, he set the empty glass down...

Ruffano’s ears drooped, tail following suit in a slow, dramatic slump. His voice cracked ever so slightly. "But alas, my dear old hag! I too am aggrieved by that performance! It wasn’t my writing! I merely performed what that rag of a script delivered, which was sadly... bupkis!" He looked...

Ruffano smiled warmly, placing a paw atop the worn book with theatrical reverence. “Dear Pom,” he said with a grin, “we’ll make it our gospel. Trimmed a tad to fit the humble stage, of course.” Then his eyes shifted, catching the fluffy albino pine marten who had spoken. Caden, was it? “Good...

Ruffano lifted his mostly-emptied glass toward the retreating forms of Jeshal and Tanya, putting on the grandest farewell he could muster without tumbling off his stool. “Goodbye, you ghostly gallant and your ever-glamorous companion! May your next haunting be just as heartwarming!” he called...

Ruffano chuckled softly, paws folding behind his back as he leaned ever so slightly toward the fox kit, just enough to show interest, but not enough to crowd. "Ahhh, the voice of responsibility! How refreshing! A rare thing in these parts, truly." He turned to pace a half step before them...

"Why, who truly knows the value of an honest job these days?" With a flourish that seemed almost to defy reality, Ruffano produced a gleaming, golden hundred-gilder coin, spinning it casually across the backs of his knuckles before letting it dance into view between two claws. "Perform well,"...

The streets of the Trenches were beginning to thrum with the usual hum of activity. Shouting beasts on their way to work, the clack of carts, gulls wheeling overhead in search of the nearest unguarded sandwich. Ruffano Quickwhistle moved through it all, directing himself toward the docks...

Ruffano swirled the last golden arc of rum in his glass, the orange twist catching the low light. He regarded Marianna with a curious tilt of the head, the glimmer in his eye sharpening into something more knowing. He raised his glass in a casual salute. “My dear,” he said smoothly, “I now...