Open Hate Dries Slower Than Paint

[Seersha Vorsky]

Hate.

It had the same intoxication as a strong ale, but the allure of a fine wine. One sip and in a flash, the fires within could spread from your belly until you're warm in the face.

Seersha? Her face was burning up as she roamed crowded streets. With each step she looked at the letter in her paw, not really paying attention to the life of the harbor around her. It bustled. It lived. It breathed. Normally, it would be perfect for a painting. Instead, this letter consumed her thoughts. Not the sun, no, a simple envelope with graceful scribbles indicating a name.

Kaden.

It was only a name with a Vorsky seal, as if Bridger's last words were a secret. Its contents were the real treasure that Seersha sought. She imagined what words awaited the recipient. As she did, despite looking like a Winder, mused like a Vorsky as she walked.

"Dear Mr. Winder. No. My dearest and only brother, Kaden. Exactly like the stuffy prince who could've been, you've hidden from your real duties. As I lay dying from a wasting cough, my final wish is that my daughter, who is actually your daughter--clearly--gets one swift punch in your face," Seersha said in a mocking, stuffy voice. It wasn't Bridger's. It wasn't hers. Even she didn't know what she was going for.

Seersha sighed and adjusted her spectacles. No, no, no, and no, that wouldn't do. She cleared her throat and stopped for a moment as a school of kits rushed by with their panicking parents. Seersha adjusted her pack and put her paw on her rapier, too. Bully Harbor was unsafe, right? Had to look like she could hold her own.

Then, she started over.

"Dear stupid, tall, waste of a fuzzy noodle and a father, here is your daughter. Please allow her twenty-five or maybe twenty-six punches, one for each year I was burdened with her." Seersha's ears flattened as she started that one. The Vorsky's never saw her as a burden. And for her "siblings" ... well, they knew her as family.

Gosh, are these my insecurities? No. Let's fix that. One more time.

She looked at the sealed letter and channeled deep within her a latent Felmarian rage and a true, fiery Winder heart, masked by 'proper' upbringing.

"Dear Kaden. I'm sure it comes to no surprise to you that I am dying. And actually, I'm dead now. Yes, dead. Funny thing that. Yet you live, too stubborn to die. For all your years of running from responsibility, whether it be a throne, found family, or being there as I waste away, there is one thing you can't outrun: your mistakes. Here is one of them, breathing before you. Born of one of your many trysts. But she has not been a mistake. She's been a gift to my family. A loving daughter. A talented painter-dancer. And my dying wish is that she gives you as many punches as she can fit in an hour, for that is how long my dying breaths will probably take until I'm dragged to the depths. I hope your bones ache eternally from all that foolish fighting. Oh, and allow her to yell at you because you deserve it. Yours truly. No. Your forgotten brother, Bridger."

Seersha frowned. Bridger was much better with words than she was. Heck, her whole family was. Seersha's words needed to come from a canvas or with much more time to think. For once, art wouldn't be enough.

Assuming she found him, of course.

Supposedly they used to write each other, using this weird Felmarian bartender "Rind" as a middle man. If this man was alive as well, he would be the key. The weasel loosened her grip on the letter as she continued on, starting to muse on how she'd approach some stranger in The Thorn in the Side or whatever the tavern was called.

As a breeze blew, her lack of focus condemned her to the most embarrassing of follies, especially for a dancer: tripping in public over nothing.

"Ah!" She gasped, unintentionally ditching the letter to catch herself on her soft paws. With a bashful sigh and her head low she tried to continue walking and ignore the glances.

The letter.

It soared away like a taunting bird, flying freely from her grasp. In a panic, she chased after it.

Somehow, this too, was Kaden's fault. She swore it between desperate, breathless jumps and grabby paws.

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine was tired. In part it was from an extremely long night on a case that was looking more and more like a wild grouse chase; she'd been on it for three days now and had fewer leads than she'd started with. In part, though, it was this city. When she'd come back to it, she'd been sure that things would be different. She and Eirene could be more or less open here now; she'd seen plenty of beasts of the same gender, or of genders that were difficult to determine, walking down the street paw in paw. There were even interspecies couples, though they seemed to be a little more circumspect; society wasn't quite ready to be that accepting, or so it seemed.

And yet there were still spots of worry. Vulpine supremacists, a scourge that Bezine had hoped was consigned to the ashes of history, seemed to be rising again, and were getting more brazen. She'd insisted that Eirene sleep with a weapon in their room just in case, and had advised Morgan and Vihma not to go walking near the Slups at night. She couldn't stop the nightmares of finding one or both if them bloody or lifeless, a promising life cut short in a moment of hate.

How did it get like this? she thought bitterly. I thought we'd be better at this by now. Slavery was gone, woodlanders had full rights at least in theory, and at least according to the Smelt's gossip column, the Minister of Innovation had been seen publicly blessing a relationship between two todds. And yet on the streets, everything felt just as cold and miserable as ever, even in the sweltering summer heat.

Something smacked her in the face. She reached up and grabbed it, scowling at the piece of paper. Probably a letter slipped free of a Missertross Gull's satchel. One would think that, by this point, they'd have found a better method of communication than the notoriously unreliable gulls, and yet here they were.

Her mental grumbling was halted by the name on the letter. Kaden. She swallowed, forcing down the anxiety. It couldn't possibly be for him. Kaden wasn't that uncommon a name; there were plenty who had some variation of that name, Caden Freemont included. It was probably just a misspelling. But then why...?

She saw a weasel running toward her, some number of years older than Bezine's own daughter, and evidently chasing the letter. Bezine held onto it, not quite offering it yet. "Is zis your letter?" she inquired, tilting it so the name wasn't quite visible.

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

"No! I'm sorry, hi, excuse me," Seersha said through the waves of fur that blocked her chase. Of course, by the time she finally caught up to her letter, there would soon be a new face to apologize to. This one? More direct. She was ignorant to the changes Bully Harbor was going through and the ways in which it was still the same. Aunt Marie and Bridger always told her that it was a dangerous place: that was the true constant. So, despite Bezine's question, the way in which she tilted the letter but still hadn't offered it, left the weasel a bit nervous.

"Oh -- My utmost apologies, ma'am," Seersha said, adjusting her dress, then her spectacles, followed by her bandanna tied tightly on her head. Look presentable, right? Even if her sense of style was a bit out there, the creative didn't want to be too ... obnoxious? That had to be saved for destroying Kaden bit-by-bit. Desperately, she blinked away her apologies and reflected on Bezine's words.

"Yes, I do believe you have my letter ... in your paw. Right there." Seersha said with a dip of her head toward the letter. It was a bit uncanny. While she didn't have Kaden's colors, she had his eyes, especially when she looked to Bezine. Her fur, too, was very reminiscent of his own. She was tall, but not too tall. Just above average height if anything. The rest of her features were softer though and free from the chaos and battles that her biological father suffered. She bit her lip a bit apologetically still but wasn't quite sure how to awkwardly navigate the situation.

"And, again, so sorry. I wasn't paying attention," Seersha finally uttered, still apologizing. She glanced around as the crowd seemed to give them a little space, stepping around the two dames as they blocked the streets. Even as the crowd began to die down, she still had the latent shame and latched onto her. Seersha needed to be a beast of grace and precision. It would be the way she could remain confident while addressing her failure of a progenitor.

But this? Her plan was already in shambles.

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

It was like staring at a ghost. The resemblance, even across genders, was hard to miss; the eyes were that same amber, albeit absent the hurt, wariness and resentment that had characterized Kaden's gaze. Was that how I once was? It was hard not to see herself in the young jill, sans the defensive layers built up to protect her heart. For a moment there was an earth-shattering sense of loss, a kinship with her father figure she hadn't even realized she'd developed in her self-imposed exile from a homeland she'd never embraced. And here was this jill, fresh-faced and out of place, just as Bezine had been when Kaden had pulled her off the streets.

Focus, she reminded herself. It all might still be one enormous coincidence. Best to find out for sure. Bezine held the letter a little closer to her chest. "I trust is your letter," she allowed, trying to keep her tone conciliatory, "but I verify as well. Per'aps you tell me to 'oo is written, so I know is yours? 'As a name on ze front I can see." And, perhaps, she might even drop something to confirm what the case truly is.

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

Wait, what was happening?

Seersha blinked in a fit of confusion. Why was this woman looking at her like that? Almost instinctively, she took a step away, adjusting her pack on her shoulder. Older jills could be thieves, right? Besides, Kaden was in hiding and it wasn't that weird of a name. Or, better yet, why did it matter? The older weasel had played his hand and she was never even considered so why should Seersha be worried about him.

She opted for a casual shrug.

"Kaden," she finally said, her head held high. "No last name listed but I know who he is. Has a Vorsky seal on it, too. Family name. My family," she stammered.

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

No.

Bezine's first reaction was denial. There was absolutely no way this was happening; it had to be exhaustion making her hallucinate the words. More than that, it made no sense. Bridger's family? How could that even be?

Well, other than family in the same way that Morgan is family to you, she amended.

"Bridger Vorsky?" she inquired, her tone incredulous. "Zen... Zen zis is for Kaden Winder." She nervously tilted the envelope, looking at the name on it. 'Gates, why did she suddenly feel so tense? She felt her heart pumping rapidly, and a sense of nausea like she might vomit. Kaden might be alive. He might be here, in the Harbor. Thirty years apart... 'Gates, how ancient must he be?

She extended her arm to offer the envelope to the jill, as well as an explanation. "I am sorry I ask," she apologized. "Is just... I no could believe it." She hesitated, fighting with the words, before admitting, "Zirty years ago, I call 'im mi papà. I non know 'e is still alive maybe." She looked over the youth, the family resemblance all the more striking for confirmation of her suspicions. "If I may ask... To 'im, 'oo are you?'"

The past was flooding her senses, countless arguments and crying fits and shared jokes and bouts of playful banter all rushing in from the box in which she'd kept them tightly tucked away. She felt the tears come to her eyes, and she blinked, trying not to let show the gaping hole in her heart that had just ripped open.

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

Seersha almost laughed. Almost. Seersha was disarmed Bezine's tone and her choice of words. Floored might even be a better word. She adjusted her stance for a moment, one hand on the hip, and the other accepting the envelope. At first, it might've looked like she was going to say some sort of brash 'Winder-style' comment, but there was a kindness in her eyes, something that overcame whatever frustrations and confusion she was grappling with.

"I'm ... going to pretend I'm not absolutely dumbfounded how you know my father's name. Bridger's, I mean," She explained and finally accepted the letter. May he rest in peace, of course.

"As for who Kaden was to me, I suppose that depends on who you ask. Kaden was never my papa, even if he is my blood. 'n he is alive, supposedly," Seersha said and stuffed the letter into her pack. "I'm just a jill he probably never knew he had. Being raised by a bunch of foxes far away, maybe you can excuse it, maybe not. Point is, the father that raised me wanted to me to meet Kaden and deliver this letter ... so ... here I am," she said with a shrug, taking in the sights. Her thoughts, of course, brought her back to Bezine.

"Take it you knew him better?" she asked with a hesitant smile. It was weird seeing this older jill so heartbroken or clearly torn up in some way over Kaden while Seersha, just moments ago, was debating the best ways to verbally destroy a weary, tired man.

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Shock coursed across Bezine's nerves like lightning, stunning her at not only explicit confirmation of the jill's parentage, but the revelation of Kaden's role in it - or, more accurately, the lack thereof. She couldn't quite keep the fury from reaching her eyes at the irresponsibility of the jack, leaving his daughter to be raised instead by his best friend. Gli strapperò le palle, le farò saltare in olio d'oliva e gliele darò da mangiare!

Bezine took a deep breath to calm herself before addressing the question. "I did once," she allowed, her paw going to her throat and fiddling with a small chain on which hung her wedding ring. Somehow the stability it represented was comforting in this moment where the foundations of the world as she knew it were being rattled. "'E taked me in off ze street," she recalled. "I was maybe 'alf your age, and non speaked Vulpinsulan much at all." The corner of her mouth twitched as she recalled, "'E could be a difficult beast. 'E non maked 'imself easy to love sometimes. I zink 'e wanted a family, but 'e feared ze pain of losing zem, so 'e push away sometimes too. I 'ad to follow 'im to Felmar once when 'e being a fool."

She shook her head, realizing her lapse. "I am sorry, I non give my name! Bezine d'Oiravere," she introduced herself, offering her paw, then giving a tentative smile. "In a way, I guess I am your sister.... Or maybe aunt," she amended, taking stock of the age difference between them. "Somezing ze like."

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

Life was stranger than art, that much Seersha knew. Art was something she could control. She could unleash her emotions and thoughts but in a way she understood. This on the other paw? Odd. Surreal. A chance meeting, almost like a cruel twist of fate. She hadn't even been here more than a few days, if even that, trying to determine how best to even handle this search. Now she was trying to fight whether or not she should be thankful or jealous. If anything, maybe it was more reason to yell at Kaden.

"Seersha, Seersha Vorsky," she said, accepting Bezine's paw and still mulling over her words. She was definitely a Vorsky in some ways, the way she at least attempted to think before speaking in conversation.

"Heh, I suppose in a way you are. Sort of. Though, that assumes I even want to consider myself related to him," Seersha mused. With her arms crossed, she shot a glance to a vixen and todd that were staring at her weirdly before looking back to Bezine. "I've heard a lot about Kaden and Bridger's ... escapades. The good. The bad. Kaden spent a lot of time with a lot of different jills between his stupid fights. I don't even know who my mother. 'Gates, I'm just as sure he never knew my mother was going to give birth or send me off with Bridger. My mother probably knew it was simpler that way. Or, maybe it was easy. Same way he couldn't be bothered to check in on Bridger before he died."

Her final words had a bit of a snarl to accompany them. The kindness in her eyes was replaced by that Felmarian fire.

"But what do I know? If anything, I'm thankful there were beasts like you who he actually helped ... or at least tried to in his own way. 'n since you're possibly ... family ... do you know where I can find a Rind? Or The Thorn in the Side? A Thorn in the Side?" Her tone was sincere but it was clear the dame wasn't sure how exactly to take any of these revelations. Bezine seemed trustworthy enough for now but how soon until that changed? Maybe she was one of those enemies from their past? She had to at least show some level of caution, as hard as that may be.

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine couldn't help but chuckle at Seersha's inquiry. "Well, if you want a zorn in ze side, I can introduce you to my daughter," she quipped. She shook her head, seemingly in apology, and amended, "She non is so bad. Ze Zorn in ze Side I know, is somewhere around here." She groused a bit as she looked around, trying to get her bearings. "All ze streets changed after ze Winter War, and seems zey changed again after I leaved ze Imperium. Hmm... Zat way, I zink." She started in a direction, making sure that Seersha was coming before ambling easily along the street.

She was quiet for a moment before she stated, "Even if you 'ate 'im - and, 'earing your 'istory, I am on ze fence too - I would still be glad to consider you family," she stated quietly. "Bridger and Kaden boz took me in zough I non was blood. My daughter non is blood to me and my wife, but we love 'er, pain in ze tail zat she is. If Bridger raised you, I am sure 'e tell you zat family is 'oo you love. Zat is always 'ow 'e see ze world, even zrough all ze pain." She tilted her head as she inquired, "'Ow is Bridger now? I non know where 'e go. Last I 'eard of 'im was after ze Princess Vaelora -"

She paused, looking for a moment like she'd just swallowed a fly, before she stated, "Well, in any case, I am glad 'e found family again."

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

Seersha nodded a bit knowingly. Not to anything about Bezine's daughter, no. She let out a small laugh at that and glanced to the older woman from behind her spectacles. As she followed in Bezine's footsteps she tried to listen to her words. It wasn't that she didn't believe her. Seersha saw Bridger as her father, Emay as her mother, and her siblings as her siblings. But she'd be lying if she didn't feel more at home performing or getting lost in a canvas than at home.

Guiltily, she knew that wasn't their fault. It was just the life of clearly being adopted while hearing all about who could've raised you instead ... even if that wasn't the point of the stories.

"Bridger passed away a few months ago and Emay, his wife, a few years prior to that," the weasel said heavily. "Just me 'n the siblings now. Oh, and my aunt Marie."

She had to linger on the name Vaelora a little bit.

"Yeah ... he never quite got over her. At least, I could tell. He still loved my mother and I don't know all the details. I just ... know some of the tragedy. Bridger wrote. A lot. I would sometimes page through his journals for inspiration when I wanted to paint something." She smiled at the memories. "He'd get grumpy but there was always still a smile and kindness there. A concern, even. Love. I was lucky to have him as a father and he was fortunate to have found the family he did--especially knowing how much this place takes from beasts."

There was a moment of thought before she crossed her arms and kicked a pebble.

"Most of the bad I know is from the journals. Bridger spoke highly of Kaden otherwise. The way he had tried to take in a few wards so that they wouldn't end up like him. The sacrifices he made. But the journals, that's where I saw how they both suffered. How their loved ones suffered. I suppose Bridger could be dramatic, heh, no, I know he could be. But, between the wars, rebellions, and violence, I'd be hard pressed not to believe. So, I guess what I'm saying is, I'm taking your words to heart, sincerely--and I'm glad you found family."

Yet one more thought nipped at her conscience.

"Which does make me wonder, how did you and Kaden get separated? Bridger wrote about folks like yourself in broad strokes ... I assume because ya'll ended up disappearing one way or another. Or, I guess I assumed Kaden did something wrong."

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine smiled at the account of Bridger's family that he'd gathered to himself, the happiness he'd managed to find. It might not have been the upbringing that Seersha wanted, but it was a good one nonetheless. Being raised by Kaden, Bezine was sure, would not have been as idyllic as perhaps the young jill might imagine.

Her face fell at the question, and her age showed on her face for a moment, the long years between when she'd last seen Kaden and the present etched in sorrow and exhaustion. "It was... It non was intentional," she stated at last. "Kaden was de type 'oo 'e go and do 'is zing, non say a word first. One day 'e dere, next day 'e on a ship to Felmar or Callispar or somezing. Plus 'e always busy rescuing Bridger, or 'e is assumed dead. I swear, zey must 'ave a dozen tombstones between zem, all ze times zey 'die'," she quipped. She shook her head, seriousness returning to her face. "In reality, was me. I goed to Varangia for a few monz for a job, when I come back 'e is gone. 'E must 'ave zinked I leaved 'im, and 'e leaved too." She shrugged. "After zat, I 'ad to leave ze Imperium again. I getted myself in trouble, me and ze jill I now married, so we run away togezzer. I always zinked maybe I find 'im out zere someday, on some continent, in some city. I never did."

She glanced at Seersha, inquiring, "Where you are from, anyway? Your accent non is Felmarian, I tell zat much."

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

"I'm sorry. Sounds tumultuous--but you made it, and better for it, it sounds like," Seersha said with a small smile.

Yeah... that sounds like Kaden.

"I'm not really from anywhere. Bridger used to joke I'm Felmarian royalty by technicality. I mean, Kaden was a prince or something. He had me with a Felmarian woman supposedly. Heh, at least that's what Bridger would say when I'd get upset. 'There goes those Felmarian fires in your eyes'. He was sweet, though. He never wanted me to ... suffer. To feel loneliness. To know that pain of loss like they did. Or my heritage. Felmar is a complicated place."

She swallowed.

"So we traveled, mostly. We didn't really live anywhere. Bridger was a doctor and writer so ... he went where he was needed if people were sick. Except here. We stayed far away from here. The irony is I never learned to swim despite the time spent on a boat. Deep water like that scares me," she admitted. "When we did need to stay somewhere for a few years, we'd settle up with Marie in Callispar. She and her husband had a nice chunk of land away from whatever troubles Bridger got into when he was younger. That's where we kept most of our things, where I'd learn to paint and dance ... but it was weird. Home never felt like the building or a bed, just the place where I could paint, dance, or have the ones I care about around me, y'know?"

It was weird opening up like this but it also felt nice, comforting even.

Like talking to family.

"I ended up putting on a few shows over the years and selling some paintings to well-to-do snouts. Suppose you could say I had an easy life."

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine's face brightened up at the mention of the young artist's talent. "You paint?" she inquired, surprised. "Well, you certainly non getting zat from Kaden. I zink painting wiz blood is only 'e do. Zat is wonderful for you, Seersha!" She beamed as she added, "You find many 'ere 'oo will buy your paintings too. Can be a good life, if you let it." She gave a small shrug, adding, "I know what you mean about 'ome zough. I grew up on ze road, an Erlani nomad. Most my life was going place to place, sleeping under ze stars. Non is until I meet Kaden zat I sleep in a bed. After I leave ze Imperium again, is never stay too long in one place." Her expression turned troubled, and she recalled, "Most places is not safe we stay too long. Too many troubles, wars, problems. Sometimes is because ze town turn against us. In some places, non is good zat I and my wife are a couple. We pretend we are friends, but sometimes ozzers figure out anyway." She sighed, looking to Seersha pityingly. "I am glad you 'ave Bridger for support," she remarked. "I am sorry 'e is gone. 'E was a good beast." She gave a small shrug as she added, "Maybe Kaden surprise us and 'e will be a fazzer again. Or maybe I 'old 'im while you punch. One of ze two."

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden had been back in the Imperium for months, and he had yet to visit the tavern. He told himself it was because he had been too busy getting settled in, working, helping Asta navigate their new life, falling in love and living with a partner again, fighting for his life on far too many occasions--all things that took up quite a bit of time and attention. All things that were very valid reasons for not visiting the Thorn in the Side and seeing if a particular grumpy weasel who was a close friend of his mother's still lived.

He winced as he turned his head to look down the street. The ugly burns on his right shoulder that tracked up his neck and across the right side of his jaw were still fresh. The new skin was only beginning to heal, still red and raw where his fur had been completely burned away by the fiery vulpine supremacist attack at the Opera House. He did his best to ignore the pain as he gathered his bearings. Some of the landmarks had changed in the twenty years since he had been in the Imperium, and he thought perhaps he had missed his turn when he saw a familiar weasel approaching.

The marten smiled and waved. "Bezine!" He looked with curiosity at the lighter-colored weasel alongside her. Caden knew only two other weasels of that coloration, Vihma and the very weasel he was attempting to find.

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

Seersha nodded at the initial inquiry and found herself listening during Bezine's story. Her heart ached for the older woman.

"I'm sorry you two need to do that. I've dated my fair share of men and women alike but ... sometimes I worry my true love is the canvas or dancing. Or, maybe I inherited that Winder inability to fully trust ... or maybe it was the constant moving around. I don't know. It's odd trying to figure out who I am or what I want when everything's felt ... not like a lie, but like it was too good to be true. That I was born for less but gifted more than I deserved," she said and looked away for a moment before glancing back to Bezine. "And, pft, please. I already practiced my speech to him and I've only increased the amount of punches since then."

I'll show him painting with blood. Something like that.

"I don't know if I want him to be a father. I had one. One that he couldn't even be there for as he lay dying. Kaden is just a flawed mythical figure to me. Sometimes a hero, often times something ugly and 'necessary', if you can even call it that. I'm sure he was a good man in his own ways but to me? He's a stranger I'd like some strong words with. And some punches! Twenty-seven or so to be precise," she added with a giggle, even with her inner turmoil.

As they began to near their destination, Seersha reached back into her pack and grabbed the letter. Idly thumbing the envelope, she sighed.

What did Bridger want to say to him? I wo--

Her thoughts stopped as someone shouted Bezine's name. Instinctively, Seersha looked in the beast's direction. A marten sporting quite the scar. She could almost see him in a painting, a character out of history, marred by their life in the Imperium. She stepped behind Bezine for a moment, a failed attempt to make herself small. She just wanted to be out of the way.

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine nodded along with Seersha's reflections, a small smile cracking at the mention of getting in blows on Kaden. Maybe Bezine would add in a few for good measure too. "I'll round it up to zirty," Bezine quipped, making an attempt at cracking her knuckles and failing entirely.

Up on the road ahead she spotted a familiar-looking marten, and her expression brightened. "Caden!" she called to him, waving back, then, realizing something, she looked to Seersha, having to turn a bit to see the girl had slid to hide behind her like a kit behind its mother's skirts, and apologized. "Er, not Kaden, zis is a friend, Caden Freemont. Oh dear... zis may get confusing. Don't worry," she assured the younger femme, "'e is a very good beast, a friend of my wife and ze family."

She looked ahead to the marten, stopping in the road and letting him approach. "Good to see you Caden," she called to him, smiling broadly. "'Ow is Asta and Daniil? I 'ope boz are fine after zat trouble at ze Opera. Morgan and Vihma were telling me about it; very scary. You are okay?" Her eyes traced the burns, wincing a bit at the ineptitude of her question.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden glanced at the younger weasel who had taken up position behind Bezine, but turned his gaze back to his friend after a moment. "They're getting through. Asta took a few days to feel well enough to leave the house, and she's only just been back to rehearsal, but I'm not trying to push her into anything she doesn't want to do right now. Daniil has been very supportive, of course. Helped me take care of things while I was laid up for a few days with the burns." He touched a paw tenderly to the edge of the wound.

"I'm better than I was, certainly. Can't say I'll be winning any beauty contests anymore, but I'm just glad to have made it through without anything worse. Daniil says it makes me look 'rugged', so I suppose I can't complain." He winced and shook his head slowly. "Plenty of other beasts weren't so lucky."

With a small wave to the other mustelid, Caden smiled. "Sorry to have interrupted, I'm Caden, a friend of Bezine's."

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

So another Kaden? Did I never make it out of the inn this morning? Am I dreaming?

Seersha listened to the pair exchange words. It sounds like the Imperium was just as deadly as Bridger's old journals advised.

"I'm going to call you Freemont -- for my own sanity, if that's okay. Or Cade or ... I don't know," Seersha admitted with a little bit of an overwhelmed, nervous smile growing on her face. "Interesting timing is all. Though, I'm Seersha, Seersha Vorsky. Nice to meet you," she said with a small wave of her own and stepped back to Bezine's side.

"'n no worries, you didn't interrupt much. Bezine here was just showing me the way to the Thorn in the Side and we were having a little discussion is all." She folded the letter to hide the name, just in case, and kept it close to her.

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine glanced to Caden, feeling compelled to explain before he could ask. "You remember ze Vorskys, from ze old days? Zis is Bridger's daughter." Far better to introduce her that way than to explain the whole mess with Kaden. That would be Seersha's decision whether or not to explain that connection. Bezine pondered the matter of how to address Caden as well; if they did run into Kaden, the distinction would become maddening very quickly. "Is okay if we call you Cade?" she inquired of the marten, hoping he'd allow it; otherwise she'd probably resort to calling Kaden something very disrespectful to his face, just to have a distinction.