Private The Slups A Nameday to Remember: Company of Strays

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn glanced up anxiously at Korya -- the foxkit seemed to have bitten off a little more than he could chew. Trying to lend aide unprepared was a challenge, but what else could he do? Just watch her bleed?

"O-oh yeah! T-the noodles were really good!" he said emphatically, trying to help put the poor girl at ease. Felines did thrash their tails about so transparently when they were upset!

Meanwhile, crimson still trickled onto the cobblestone. Finn pressed his thumb a little more firmly into the cut, and the bleeding at least seemed to stop with the additional pressure. "Can you hold a finger on this?" he asked, and gently guided the feline to apply pressure for herself. "That'll be less ticklish. 've you ever wondered why you can't tickle yourself?" he pondered aloud. "Comes in handy, I guess!"

With the wound stabilized and his paws free, the foxkit seemed to relax a little. The chaos had subsided, and now he could be a little more productive. He stood and brushed himself off, before going to stir the boiling rag. "Thanks, Cricket... Yeah, you don't want a wet bandage... But you also don't want the wound getting infected. Y'see, when dirt gets in, it..."

Finn stopped, as he suddenly realized he didn't actually understand how infection happened. With a blush, he became aware of how shallow his understanding really was. Never the less, he continued the impromptu lesson in the style he learned from Arthur Barrett. "Well, I don't know. But you don't want dirt in it. And hot water is good for stopping that, I guess... Y'don't always have time to clean a wound, but if ya do, y' take it!"

"Err, this might sting a little..." Kneeling back down, Finn gave a slightly more firm scrub of the area. Fetching his knife from his waistband, Finn untucked his shirt and sheared off a few strips of his shirt tails -- one to pat the wound dry, and another to bind around her paw. He snugged the knot higher up, before fetching her moccasin again. "You'll need to wash this again in the morning, and change the bandage... ok? Can you put weight on your paw, now?"

 

[Korya]

"I tickled myself once," Korya said darkly, as she clamped her footpaw down tight. "Actually, you don't even need a wound to get an infection... When I first came to town, someone threw a chamberpot of ick on me... Apparently some beasts just chuck their toilets right out their window into the street?! I tried to wash it off but it was everywhere, ugh. I went for like two baths in the ocean even, I could still smell it... anyway not long after that my eyes started to hurt, and then later on I found out I had an infection..."

She paused briefly, head tilted.

"You're a much nicer doctor than that quack was." She quacked loudly and suddenly, from deep in her throat. "What's that you're cutting up? Better not be my good dish rag! Nah, I'm kitten you, you can use it, I'll get better ones next time I open up."

It felt snug. She gave it a few prods, pulling at the fabric with her claws, and it didn't give too easily. She nodded in approval and reached out to feel for the counter, leaning on it to pull herself up again, and shifted her weight around.

"I better not practice any kicks while I'm in the kitchen, hm... But, aye! Feels a lot better! I'd say you two have earned your noodles for sure! Now get out of my kitchen! I need to organize before I break something else."

She gave a loud, raucous laugh, her face split nearly in two with a grin that was meant for a much larger face. Fangs glistened in the dim green glow of her stall's lights.

"Oh, yes, my moccasin, please... thank you... Going to need to sew that up later too..."

 

[Cricket]

Once more Cricket had to stamp down on a flicker of self-consciousness as she watched Finn and Korya work. To her inexperienced eyes Finn was working with knowledge and skill– and he was a respected member of a big ship’s crew, to boot. This Korya was not only cool and funny, but seemed to take everything in her stride even when it went awry. That was nothing to say of her talents with cookery. She had her own stall, for ‘Gates sake! She might have several!

Then there was Cricket. What could she do? If anything, there was more she couldn’t manage as a reptile than anything else as wintertime attested. She must look such a…well, a child to them both. Hadn’t that been what she wanted, though? Why did she feel so utterly useless around them all of a sudden, then?

It was too late in the day for Cricket to succumb to existential misery: she shook her head and directed her sulk into fishing out the last of the dishrags. Korya’s laugh brought a smile to her snout, along with the thought that she’d earned her noodles. She hadn’t compared to Finn, but a generous offer was one she’d gladly take. It was testament to the quality of the food and opinion of the feline that Cricket resolved to pay in full next time.

“Yeah Finn, stealin’s my thing,” she snickered. “Not that I would from here! But, uh…” the following words felt so foreign, like those some of the uppity adults yapped: diplomacy, anathema, embargo. “…Thank you. Been really nice meetin’ you, Korya – your noodles’re the best food I’ve ever eaten!” Not the highest praise from a creature who eats insects, perhaps, but heartfelt nevertheless.

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Funnily enough, Finn had the exact opposite assessment of Cricket. He looked like a bumbling fool that couldn't even bandage a simple wound without mistakes! But then again, he was very tired, and still rather numb from the shock of earlier. It was what it was. The bandage held, and Korya felt better -- that's all that mattered.

The sudden quack brought an unexpected smile to his face, and a burst of boyish laughter. He'd apparently never heard the insult before, and gave Cricket a curious look, as if he were wondering if she was quite... all there?

Anyway. Fetching a small broom, Finn brushed away the remaining glass shards to avoid a repeat performance, and helped put things back in order the best he could. As he worked, his ears perked with surprise at Cricket's admission of thievery -- but then again, urchins did need to eat.

Which reminded him of his remaining noodles. With the kitchen back in order, the fox stepped out into the street again. The rain had slowed down to a stop, and the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, casting gentle shadows on the street. Finn watched it quietly, before picking his bowl up, and attempting to finish the remainder in one big drink. The spice overpowered him though, and sent him into a coughing fit.

"G-gee(cough)heeze Cricket, how (cough cough, wheeze). How'd you manage to (hic)...? Finish?" he asked, his voice fading into a hoarse whisper. The initial wave of heat drove him away from the bowl, but now an onslaught of searing fire bore down on him. Fetching his tankard of ale, Finn upturned it, and drank for his very life.

 

[Korya]

Korya chuckled to herself as she set about re-acquainting with her makeshift kitchen space. Opening boxes, sniffing them, carefully - very carefully - tapping at the air to find the handles to her cookware. She set about making another serving of noodles. There was still ingredients left over, no sense letting them go to waste. Besides, that stinky little beast across the street might want some, too, whenever it was brave enough to come over. She wondered if the other two could smell it over the noodles and their ale.

"You know," she said, "that these noodles of mine are the best food I've ever eaten, too? And I've been to so many fancy dinners, I don't even want to think about. But these are what I ask for on my nameday. Oh, how I hated them, first time I tried them! Too hot. I cried. I drank gallons of water. And then I asked for seconds..."

Her tail swished, once, hit the side of the stall and curled back on itself, keeping out of the way.

"They're called 'drunk noodles' actually... because they're so hot, you'll get proper sozzled out of your gourd with how much you end up drinking! Ha! What say you, Cricket and Finnian, seconds? Going to rustle up a bowl of my own, and one extra as well... Should be just enough for four bowls."

She hushed herself as they continued to eat and she continued to cook. There was a tension in the air, she felt it through the foxkit's paws as he'd worked on her. It only felt thicker with the quiet stillness of the rain dying down. The wheezing across the street was, to Korya's sensitive ears, as loud as a cough in an empty lobby. But that wasn't what she was waiting for. There was something Finnian needed to say, a burden he was holding in. She hadn't been oblivious to him sobbing earlier when she'd cooked. She just hoped her silly antics had lightened his heart enough to give him a chance to shrug the rest of it off.

 

[Cricket]

“I’unno,” came the giggled reply from a bowl she was ensuring had been entirely licked clean, two giant silver eyes peeking over the rim, “they’re just that good! Don’t taste spicy to me. Not that I’ve ever eaten anything spicy before, I don’t think…Or tasted it, anyways.”

Inclining her head back towards her newest friend the bowl promptly clattered against the table (a hasty save soon to follow) as her jaw likewise hit the floor. Seconds?! She was offering her more?! Firsts had come as the most exciting of surprises; that Korya was generous enough to offer more seemed all but unthinkable to the gecko, for street life rarely rewarded such altruism.

The feline didn’t seem either out to work a scam nor naive in her kindness: she didn’t rightly know what to make of it except that it was just good old-fashioned kindness in a city so deprived of it. Besides, a hungry orphan was never going to be shy of extra helping, and in the soft glow the fireflies with the pattering rain and good company…she found a glimmer of trust. “Yes, please!!” she crowed, practically wriggling in her seat with enthusiasm.

The act of cooking slowed the natural rhythm of their socialising, and Cricket’s mind darted briefly, wistfully, to reflect on what it would have been like to have a sister like Korya. Somebeast self-assured, enthusiastic, talented, kind…family. The old ache in her chest began anew, and she hastened to turn her thoughts elsewhere. They found a similar track to Korya now that Finnian had recovered some from whatever had been troubling him. Drumming claws on the surface, she side-eyed the todd for a moment before speaking. “Sooooooo….Finn….you goin’ to tell us who we need to go beat up yet or what? It wasn't big Rylan from Duskshambles bein' a pain, was it? He's always trying to fight others."

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

"And I've been to so many fancy dinners, I don't even want to think about. But these are what I ask for on my nameday."

Mishearing Korya, the foxkit suddenly choked on his ale. How did she know it was his nameday? How did she know about the fancy dinner with Alwyn? A sudden surge of adrenaline coursed through his body, and his heart raced as he coughed and spluttered.

But as he glanced over to Cricket, he saw the gecko wasn't reacting as he'd expected. Slowly, it dawned on him that he'd misheard -- and the secrets he was carrying were making him paranoid. Gates, Finn would have been a terrible card player.

"Oh, no thank you..." he coughed dryly. "I'm really full..." Of course, this was a polite lie. Finn simply couldn't stand the heat, but he would never want to come across as if he didn't appreciate a gift of food. The matter of the fourth bowl, however, was overlooked. Finn simply chalked it up to Korya's eccentricities.

Rylan from Duskshambles. At one time, Finn had known the beast, and did his best to stay clear. But ever since he set foot on the Hide, it was as if he lived in a different world. He'd lost track of all the goings on, now that he had a bed of his own again, and daily training to look forward to. "No, it wasn't Rylan... It was a band of hares..." he grumbled. "Figures I'd get beaten by a buncha woodlanders..." he mumbled to himself.

Though Finn wouldn't be able to handle seconds, he did intend to finish his bowl. Turning it upside down, he finished the remainder of the broth in one long draught.

 

[Cricket]

Cricket, conversely, was in no great hurry to shun extras. Meals were rarely guaranteed and, feeling as she did a newfound warmth towards her friends, was in no rush to loosen her grip on a good thing. If she could only bottle this feeling. “I’ll have his portion,” she chirped cheekily, expecting nothing to come of it but venturing nevertheless. After all, if Korya needed to get rid of supplies it was her civic duty as a solid Imperium citizen to help her fellow beast.

Long tail coiled about one of the stool legs slowly as though possessed of a mind of its own. The gesture spoke volumes to those who might know what to look for: an anchor, security, preparation for something. Irreverence was a staple of survival for Cricket and serious conversations often avoided in place of jokes or fun. Considering how nice tonight had been she was pulled inexorably towards forgetting the entire thing. Finn seemed okay, he was in one piece.

But he wasn’t right. She couldn’t just pretend otherwise, not after almost losing him.

His stilted reply caused her scales to fire up again. “A band’a hares?!” She slammed her paws on the counter indignantly. “A whole band? No wonder they roughed ya up! Fancy gangin’ up on a lone beast, the cowards!” It was hardly unheard of on the streets but still it rankled her sense of justice. At once something fierce glittered in her eyes. She looked to Korya as if for support, decisive in her tone. “We could be a little band, right? That’s so wrong what they did to Finn, we should teach ‘em a proper lesson!”

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn's ears were already quite red from the spicy noodles, but they burned even hotter from the shame he felt. He tipped his neck backwards, and pulled at his collar to pop the button to try and cool off a little.

"Yeah, 's this... stupid frou frou dress up clothing Alwyn's always stuffing me in..." he growled, his temper flaring over. It was a rare tone for Finn. Hatred and contempt lay behind it, and the kit clenched his paws into fists. "They thought I was an easy mark. Oh look, there goes a dandy fox, all by his lonesome~!" he said mockingly as his jaw clenched. But as soon as his anger had flared, it dissipated. "Din' even have my knife on me, left it at home..." he said sullenly.

There were even more bitter thoughts circling in his mind. That they were right, they had found an easy mark. That they had bested a "true son of the navy". That he'd have to have a bunch of girls come to his defense. But Finn knew better than to voice those thoughts out loud. He knew it wasn't right to even think them... and yet, there they were.

Finn buried his face in his paws, and dug his blunt clawtips into his skin in frustration. Up to now, he'd almost forgotten about Alwyn -- but having mentioned his name so casually brought all the misery of that evening back to mind. Should he leave? The fox pondered his chances of excusing himself after his little outburst -- but he knew Cricket would hunt him down.

Why did they all have to care so much?

 

[Korya]

Korya slid bowl after bowl of noodles onto the counter, two in Cricket's general direction, one off to the side, and one she just plunked down and didn't push anywhere. She gave a few little disparaging and-or encouraging grunts and meyowls to fill moments of silence where she felt she might have needed, in her bartending duties, to provide attention, but otherwise kept her mouth shut. Until she couldn't.

"Demned woodlanders," she hissed. "My da always said they were a mistake to let into the Imperium..."

She swiped her paw slowly through the air above her stall's countertop, found Finn's mug, and turned away to refill it. She plunked it down with a fresh head of foam, this time not spilling a drop. She had a washcloth over one shoulder, and placed her paws on the counter, leaning forward in a way that showed the wiry muscles of her bare, rosette-dappled arms.

"Wouldn't mind letting my fists taste a little justice after I close up," she said softly. "But I don't know if it's hares they thirst for, or this Alwyn beast. Stuffing kits into fancy clothes, why do we let them get away with it? Bloody bonnets and booties and bibs." She thumped the counter, hard enough that the half-rotten plank cracked. The bowls jumped. "Haven't they ever been young? What happens, they get older and suddenly forget what itching is, what embarrassment is? It's bloody disgraceful, disrespectful. Adults, huh! They want you to respect 'em, but they don't give you any spect in the first place... Lousy bunch of... Urgh!"

Her tail was in danger of toppling cookware. She sat down and scooped her bowl up to her chest and began to shovel pawfuls of hot noodles and meats into her maw with her bare paws. Halfway through chewing she called out across the street:

"Oi, breathy, come in out of the rain an' grab a bowl, I can hear your tummy begging from here!"

 

[Tizzi Poof]

Like a shark with blood in the water, Tizzi had followed the smell through the rain. It knew not to travel by the ditches and holes and awkward pipes layered haphazardly beneath the streets of the harbour in such weather. As such, it had wriggled across rooftops, shedding layers of muck and filth with every scrape and tumble, until bits of dull, flattened fur began to shine through. Which meant it had grown colder.

It watched the scene play out, the food, the fox, the lizard, the wildcat. It didn't understand much, but it understood the softness of that tail, the warmth of those ears, and the dizzying display of fireflies.

But that was all it did, for some time. Watched. Waited. Planning a moment when none of them would notice it sneak up and grab food, or a tuft of fur, or a lick of a scale. Tizzi had always wanted to lick a lizard. It couldn't say why. They just looked like they'd taste sweet.

The wildcat was strange. Her movements were awkward, careful, and frivolous all at once. She never raised her head much, and her ears moved more often than other beasts. It was a little frightening to Tizzi. It felt unpredictable.

Tizzi Poof poofed when the wildcat suddenly called out, just a moment after Tizzi's belly had made another growl of lust for the smells. The wildcat nudged a bowl that was off to the side. There was still a seat left at the counter.

It took all of one second for the little weasel gremlin to dart across the road, leap onto the seat, and stand on it with both paws on the counter, its face buried in the bowl of spicy noodles with a snarl. Bits sprayed left and right, up and down, splattering Cricket and Korya and Tizzi's head. Between the chewing and swallowing, there was no time for tasting the spice. Just the subtle heat welling up in its stomach that promised a rough future come morning.