Open Hate Dries Slower Than Paint

[Caden S. Freemont]

Pieces began to fall into place as first Seersha introduced herself and Bezine followed with her own explanation. It was as though the Fates were plucking their strings, moving each piece into place so that he could not escape any part of his past. Well, you did come back. What did you expect would happen?

"Cade is fine," he said, rocking back on his heels and trying to sort his thoughts. "I tend not to advertise the Freemont name if I can help it. I'm still unsure how I want to connect myself to that side of my family." He cleared his throat. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Seersha. I knew Bridger when I was a kit; he was a colleague of my mother's."

He waved a paw down the street. "I was just on my way to the same tavern, though it's been so long I couldn't quite remember how to get there. Somebeast there from my past who I wanted to see. Shall we walk together?"

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

Looking for the same tavern? What're the odds ...

Seersha blinked a way any sort of suspicions for the moment and gave Bezine a shrug. "Sure, please feel free to join us," she added. Once more, the weasel adjusted her pack on her back and double-checked her grip on the letter.

"So, you knew Bridger ... and you're going to this Thorn in the Side ... may I ask -- who are you looking to find at the tavern? Is it Rind? I was told he could point me to who I'm looking for," Seersha asked, hoping she could find more details with careful probing along the way. Was he actually trustworthy? Time would tell, she supposed, but it couldn't hurt to ask some questions on the final stretch of their journey.

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Well, Bezine thought on reflection, the girl was suspicious, which was definitely a Winder character trait. What she wasn't was clever about it. Seersha had given away more information than she'd sought in the asking, enough that a savvy beast of nefarious intent could have buffed their way right into her confidence. She was lucky to have met Bezine so early; there were plenty in Bully Harbor who would have taken advantage of her naivete. There later will be time to train her up in these things, she reminded herself. For now, they needed to find Kaden - or Rind, as he was apparently going by now. If he's been hiding from his daughter this whole time, the rind will be all that's left of him .

"Per'aps you could set ze poor girl at ease by saying 'oo it is you look for," Bezine chimed in, offering a suggestion that modeled the kinds of questions she normally used in such situations. It was an old spy's trick; get the other side to reveal information while giving up none yourself. I guess old habits really do die hard, even around friends and family.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden nodded slowly. Seersha was looking for Rind. She was a light-furred weasel. Calling him by his full name would cause confusion. He let out a slow breath. Well, Winder did have a reputation for being popular with the jills, and Seersha was certainly the right age. But did she know that Rind and Kaden were one in the same beast? Caden did not feel it was his place to reveal his old friend's identity. He had taken a new name for a reason.

"I'm looking for Kaden Winder," he answered with some hesitancy. "He was a close friend of my mother's, and he and I became friends when I was an adolescent before I left the Imperium. I've been gone twenty-odd years and thought I'd check in, see if he was still around."

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

Seersha giggled and then let it turn into a chuckle of disbelief. She stopped in her tracks for a moment, placing her paw on her rapier's hilt. Okay, maybe she understood what her siblings meant that she was too trusting. Maybe word got around after the other questions she asked and these were spies sent to capture or kill her. Maybe, just maybe, they knew she was coming before she got here! It just seemed so odd, so coincidental. Too coincidental.

Though, reality is strange... no ... this is too strange, isn't it?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, stop, stop. Okay, wait, wait." She stopped her laughing and squinted. "You're telling me that you are the adoptive daughter of Kaden Winder and you, you sir, are a family friend of his that is also coincidentally coming back to look for him when I'm looking for him. You both also know each other. Listen, I know I'm new here but c'mon. Who are you working for? What crazy beasties set you two up for this?"

Seersha looked around herself in disbelief. She could actually see the tavern in the distance. Maybe make a break for it?

"I mean, really? What ... what're the odds, y'know? 'Uh? C'mon. Did word travel that fast here that someone was looking for him? Was it Vorsky enemies? Someone want revenge on Kaden?"

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine stopped in her tracks as the young jill got a healthy measure of suspicion and skepticism right at the wrong moment. Bezine gave a wide shrug, letting her own disbelief show. "In zis town, coincidence is ze only zing you can count on one 'undred percent of ze time. Is 'ow I get exiled last time - but non relevant," she amended quickly. "I won't lie, zere are probably many beasts who want revenge on Kaden. I'd like to give 'im a few 'its about ze face too, for 'ow 'e 'urt you. If you want to go alone, you go alone." She gestured down the street. "Ozzerwise, I gladly go wiz you for moral support. And maybe kick 'im between ze legs, I non decide yet on zat."

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden was staring at Bezine as recognition dawned on his face. "Wait. That was you? 'Gates, Kaden's adoptive daughter, I remember you from when I was a kit. I just couldn't remember her--your name." He laughed. "We've been friends how long now and I only just realized I've actually met you before...just thirty-some years ago."

Still chuckling, he turned to Seersha. "What are the odds, indeed? I don't claim to understand how this world works, but it seems some of us are lucky, or unlucky, to have the attention of the Fates who pull us together at times when we least expect it, for better or for worse. As Bezine said, though, you can go alone. I can try another time if you'd be more comfortable without being nervous about two strangers tagging along with you."

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

Seersha found herself looking between them and then at their destination. It wasn't that much further and she had gotten this far with Bezine at the very least, right? Suspicion this late was useless anyway. Plus, if Bezine was potentially family in her own way, and Caden was potentially an ally of Kaden's at one point, or family friend or ... something ... that was an ally she could use in a strange place.

With a small smile and shrug she relented. "No, no, please come with. I'm sorry. I just ... y'know, it seems too good to be true. Especially after all the stories I've heard," the jill said solemnly.

She waved for her newfound companions to follow. "Come with. It'll be fun I'm sure."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Thorn in the Side was well kept despite its mismatched armaments hanging on the walls, assemblage of donated chairs and stools, and tables that were often too high to comfortably eat with a slouch. The thing that kept it alive all these years was the Felmarian patronage and dishes (supposedly) and its willingness to assist outsiders with a meal for cheap.

It was the kind of thing the Vermillion Nobles and any Vulpine supremacist loathed. Even the locals' hate would ebb and flow between forgetting the Thorn existed or being reminded of its namesake in the most literal or ironic of ways. No matter how they tried to get rid of the owner, Rind, or his staff, they always found a way back.

In a weird way, the community had its back while it weaved between obscurity and recognition. Many stayed away because of the Felmarians who frequented it. Others because the owner could be curt to locals. Whatever the reasoning, the building survived and had a series of restorations over the years.

For Rind, the former Kaden Winder, it wasn't luxurious, but it was simple, and it allowed him to blend in and retire from the violence that had plagued himself and loved ones for years. He had more of an impact at the tavern anyway. He could serve good food, give a place to stay when someone needed, look out for those who wanted a fresh start, and had the kind of community he could only dream of. The Thorn in the Side would always be a diamound in the rough -- and that was fine by him! Tragedy steared clear and he was able to avoid ruining folks' lives. He became more selective on who he helped and how, focusing on his staff's safety above all else.

Mostly.

Besides, the years hadn't been kind to the greying weasel. His tall form was slightly hunched. His hands quivered slightly as he cleaned glasses behind the bar. It was a slow day -- not that the place was ever booming aside from events. He walked with an obvious limp and had a slight wheeze when he breathed too hard. His back ached and migraines assailed his head. He no longer bothered to dye his fur now that he was practically silver.

I hate being old.

The weasel looked at his reflection in one of the silvery goblets behind the bar and shook his head. As he set the goblet back down, the door opened behind him with Seersha, Caden, and Bezine able to enter.

Kaden didn't even bother turning around.

"We might be closing up early. Slow day," he grumbled, straining as he bent over behind the bar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite getting this far, Seersha realized with these two in tow, they could act first, test the grumpy weasel's ire, so-to-speak. So, she gestured to them.

"Maybe you all should ... go first, yeah?"

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

'Gates, Kaden was old. When she'd been a kit half Seersha's age, she'd believed he was old, of course, just because he was an adult and adults all looked old to her then. Now, though, with some forty years under her own belt and a world's worth of experience upon her, she could see how unkind the years had been to her once father figure. It was almost enough to make her pity him. Kaden the Warrior, Kaden the Prince, wasn't to be seen in those hunched shoulders, the trembling paws. But for that unmistakable gruff voice of his, she very well might not have recognized him.

As Seersha hesitated, Bezine nodded in silent agreement with the request. She strode boldly to the bar, slipping onto one of the stools and setting a few gilders on the bar top. "'Ow about a bottle of whatever you recommend," she suggested, "and, if you want an extra tip, per'aps you can 'elp me find someone. An old warrior, a bit full of 'imself, tends to zink ze 'ole world rides on 'is shoulders. Surprisingly patient with flighty orphan kits." There was a hint of fondness in her voice as she concluded her description.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden hesitated beside Seersha. It was jarring, the appearance of the weasel, so different than the impression of the beast Caden held in his memory. Twenty years and a great deal of strife changed a beast. Would he look so hunched and broken in another two decades?

Forcing himself forward, the albino marten did not sit, but rather stood beside Bezine, leaning one paw on the bar and adjusting his spectacles. He did not say anything, merely waited for the weasel to respond, silently surveying his mother's old friend and feeling the weight of years seem to radiate from the old mustelid.

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

The inn was no longer there as Kaden turned. The voice and accent were all too familiar, accompanied by a familial banter that could not ever be replaced. Bezine's words seemingly returned a splash of color to the greying weasel's face. Tears welled in his eyes. This could not be. He pointed a shaking claw at her for a moment. As far as he was concerned, he was looking at a small Bezine, just as small as the day she vanished. Familiar embers of a war torn harbor filled his mind.

"Yew shoul' nah be, 'uh? Yer ah ghost, yer ..." His breathing was heavy as he fell into his Felmarian accent. His eyes shifted to Caden as well and he could not help but shake his head. In so many ways, he saw Caden's mother, but also the youth who probably lost his childhood as Kaden did. "Yew too, 'uh? Ah must be dead if yew two are ah'll grown. Yer ..."

He managed a laugh and rubbed away the tears of disbelief.

"Nah, o' course yew two ain't dead," he said and reached his claw back under the counter to pull up a bottle of finely aged Felmarian wine. "Yer like meh, ta' stubborn ta' die. Lemme get ah look a' ya's, 'uh?"

He stepped out from behind the counter, limping the whole way, bottle still in his right paw. Without a word, he pulled Bezine into as tight a hug as he could muster.

"Yer real 'uh? Ah ain't dead yet, righ'?" Kaden asked, breaking the hug to cup Bezine's cheeks. He then looked desperately to Caden and gestured to him with the bottle. " 'n yew, yer ... 'gates, yer all grown, too ... 'n the years weren't kind were they? Ah'm so sorreh, lad."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Seersha watched, her anger sinking. It was a reunion she would never have with a father that never was. These strangers, one of which was the closest she had to family in the Imperium, was more daughter to Kaden than she could ever be. The other? A family friend with more history and connection in passing.

She was just blood. The same thing Kaden freely spilled once upon a time.

And now, this grumpy old weasel who was more fiction than reality to her, had been reduced to a blubbering, limping old man.

She clenched the letter tight before placing it in her pack.

Think first. Let them have their moment. Maybe it'll be best if he never knows you're his daughter.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

"'n the years weren't kind were they? Ah'm so sorreh, lad."

Caden hadn't thought he would cry. But those words, the recognition of what he had endured and truly being seen and known by a beast from his past, cut through any barriers around his heart. He found his throat tightening, and he stepped towards his elder, reaching out with a paw to clasp Kaden's shoulder, meeting his gaze with shining eyes.

"And I'm sorry it took me so long to return. Well met, old friend." He chuckled wryly through his tears. "Seems the years were unkind to you, too. No offense, but you look like shit."

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine had never thought that she would see Kaden cry like this. In a way, it was discomfiting; he'd always been this larger-than-life figure in her mind, always taller than her no matter how lanky the young weasel grew, the beast who, no matter how dangerous the world became, would always find his way to fight through it. He'd been a rock in the ocean, unbreakable, dangerous to those who approached it uninvited, and, to a select few, a shelter from the storm. Now here he was, weathered down by the years, and for the first time he looked smaller to her.

As they embraced, she squeezed her arms around him, and that old familiar feel of him came back, muscle and bone, less of the former relative to the latter than Bezine remembered, but still comforting. The scent of him had changed a bit, age turning musk to must, but it was still Kaden. For a moment she wondered if she was imagining the whole thing as well, but she dismissed it out of paw. She might be crazy in some ways, but she wasn't that kind of crazy. She wasn't a Ryalor, after all.

She chuckled at Caden's extremely honest assessment. "'Ey," she chided, releasing one paw from around Kaden to playfully boff Caden's shoulder, "zat is I get to say to 'im sort of zing! Paws off." She smiled warmly up at Kaden before releasing him. "Is so good to see you," she told him, a warmth and sincerity in her voice that she'd rarely afforded him in her younger, defensive days. "Is so much to tell, so much to catch up on. One day soon," she promised, "you meet my wife and daughter, okay? We 'ave you over for dinner, we tell stories of ze old days, of where we go, where we've been." She glanced toward the door, adding, "But first, I zink zere is someone you really should meet. She travelled a long way to meet you, after all."

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

Kaden didn't regret much in his life. He made the most of horrible situations, bad guidance, and a war-torn land. Even when the Imperium wasn't on fire, its beasts were fighting. Those that rose from the ashes were bound to fight again. First by class, then by fire once more. It was almost as cyclical as the turmoil in Felmar.

While holding Bezine close, he could feel how time and life betrayed them both. That was among his biggest regrets: the time lost with her. He had been a guardian to many youngsters and in some ways continued that journey by protecting his staff here. But no one was replaceable, even if the world tried to replace them.

Tophin...

He always worried Bezine would be lost like Tophin. Yet, somehow, against all odds, Bezine was here and alive. No amount of regret could take that away. No amount of turmoil could replace the love in his heart for her. No amount of time could make this moment meaningless.

When the hug was over he couldn't help but laugh at Caden's words, noting the joy and sorrow in the lad's eyes. "Take et easy on 'im, 'uh? 'e's nah wrong," Kaden said with another chuckle and winked to Sken's son.

"Ah wife 'n daughteh? Yew kiddin' me? Ah missed everythin'," he said with a frown before letting it grow into a proud smile. He granted Bezine a nod when she mentioned getting to share stories and meeting her family. "Ah'd love tah mee' them all, but ah'm not sure who else yew've tah introduce meh to."

It wasn't all for nothing. The deaths. The violence. The hurt. You did something right. You bought her the time and training needed to survive.

With the thought in his mind he gave Caden one more look and handed him the drink Bezine ordered. "'ere, this is yers, sit. 'n drink, or don't -- Ah kin get ew both food er wateh if yew like. But yew, yew sit, yew need it lad," the old weasel said firmly. The poor lad had the kind of pain in his eyes that made him think of Bridger or even when Caden himself lost so much family. It broke the former warrior-prince's heart. The price of softening over the years, for sure.

He still remained focused on the pair, smiling, until someone cleared their throat at the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seersha stepped forward and adjusted her pack.

"You did miss everything. More than everything," she said with a flatness to her voice. She still had a message to deliver even if she didn't reveal who she was. Sometimes, like a painting, the imperfections, invisible strokes, and untold stories, made a piece more impactful, complete even. With a tinge of guilt, she realized she didn't want to ruin this moment for them, even if she had her own reasons for being here. Besides, Bridger's letter to Kaden was more important. She wouldn't even be here were that not for her father's dying wish.

"Ah'm sorreh, who're yew?" He looked to the pair at the bar. "Who's this? Who're yew 'uh?" he stepped forward with a limp and tilted head.

"I'm just a messenger, but I was told it was important," Seersha murmured quietly, unable to look at the weasel for a moment. She produced the crumpled envelope and averted her gaze.

Accepting the letter, Kaden immediately recognized the writing. He scoffed at the envelope's condition and held it loosely between his claw. "Ah, so 'e's finally dead, 'uh? Ah suppose yew couldn't handle a dyin' lad's last words bett--"

Smack.

Tears streamed down Seersha's face and her arm was still across her chest after having slapped the words out of Kaden's mouth. "Really? That's how ... a man that was a brother to you? That's how you're going to talk about him?"

"Ah, 'ow," Kaden staggered back for a moment, holding his cheek. He snarled back at her. "Yew got some nerve, 'uh? Yew don't know meh or mah relations to Vorskeh. Yer just a bratteh messengeh."

"Bratty messenger? Bratty messenger?" She scowled and went to slap him again only for Kaden to catch her by the wrist.

"Yeh, bratteh messengeh," he said with a laugh. "Yew go' a fire in yew though, that's fer sure."

"I was his daughter you miserable old sod!" Seersha snarled back and pulled her wrist free, surprised she could even do so. Perhaps in Kaden's earlier years, she wouldn't have been so fortunate.

Kaden frowned. "Yeh? Adopted daughteh, I see. ah'm sorreh, truleh, fer yer loss, but don't yew dare tell meh 'ow to talk 'bout 'im or assume wha' 'e meant tah me." The weasel looked to the letter carefully. "Truthfulleh, 'e was one o' the best men I knew ... 'n 'im being sick the last year was torturuous ... as I imagine it was fer yew."

"It was! So don't you tell me who I am or how to feel!" Seersha bellowed in disbelief. She looked to her own paws and then back to Kaden. "Now open the letter."

"Ah will, afta' I take care o' some patrons, 'uh? Maybe yew should take a seat, too?"

The angered jill wiped some tears away and took a seat next to Bezine. "He's old and dumb," she murmured between her clenched teeth.

 

[Dusk Rainblade]

Bezine's eyes widened at the confrontation between Seersha and Kaden, shock turning swiftly to a burning anger that whispered to her hot Varangian blood. As the frustrated Seersha came to the bar, tears in her eyes, that anger took over, prompting the jill to slip from her own seat and follow after Kaden. She seized his shoulder, fury in her eyes and hurt in the set of her jaw. "Zat is it?" she demanded. "Zat girl travels far for you, seeking you out, and you dismiss 'er like zat? What is wrong wiz you? Messenger or no, you non get to call 'er a brat and insult 'er like zat! Sei un uomo così egocentrico e disadattato, non ti prendi nemmeno la briga di ascoltare tua figlia!" The stream of angry words flew from her lips as her Vulpinsulan failed her and she code switched back into her native tongue, her own paw flying at Kaden's face.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

If Bezine hadn't followed the weasel, Caden would have. Letting his ire at Kaden's disrespect simmer, he turned to comforting Seersha, taking a seat beside her at the bar and sliding the drink to her. Though he barely knew her, his paternal instincts had immediately risen in her defense.

"Aye, you're right. He is old and dumb." He didn't try to stop his words from carrying. "A beast can age, but certain qualities they keep with them if they're not careful. You deserve more respect than he gave you, and I, for one, won't let him get away with that without an apology to you, even if I have to throttle him." A small bit of canine showed as the albino smirked and winked at Seersha.

 

[Seersha Vorsky]

Seersha nodded. Twenty-seven and here she was letting this old sorry excuse for a father get to her--and he didn't even know! He couldn't know. The jill gave a shrug as she accepted the bottle. She went to take a drink but then thought better of it.

"You're right," she murmured with a frown. She tilted the bottle and sniffed it before grimacing. She was picky about wines to begin with -- this Felmarian stuff would boil her stomach. With a bit lip, she thought to herself and spun the bottle. "You don't have to worry about an apology. He didn't know ... and I know what a stubborn beast he is. I shouldn't have even gotten angry in the first place. It's just ..." she stopped and watched the interaction between Bezine and Kaden.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ah!" Kaden grunted and held his cheek again, rubbing it. "Yer righ', yer righ', ah'm sorreh."

He cleared his throat and limpbed from Bezine, freeing his shoulder from her. He wouldn't let old habits or grumpiness get in the way of this. His habit of speaking bluntly or without thought often led to problems. Now was the time to show the ways in which he changed, right?

He passed a glance to Seersha and Caden.

"Look, ah'm, sorreh, clearleh, we both cared 'bout tha' fox, and ah should've treated yew like any otha' patron or beastie, no' some messengeh, 'uh?" He then looked back to Bezine before staring at Seersha. "'n ah suppose even if yew were jus' a messengeh, ah should've been kindeh. So mah apologies."

Kaden bent beside the counter again to grab them each some glasses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seersha looked to Caden in surprise, wiping one more rogue tear before smiling. Her smile faded and she raised a brow at Kaden.

"Fine, fresh start. I needed to bring you that letter and it's nice to meet you, 'Rind', or Mr. Winder."

Kaden scoffed. "Kaden's fine. These two know me as tha' anyway, but yew keep tha' to y'self, y'ear?" The weasel said with a nod and only started to open the letter after Seersha nodded.

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine shook her paw out as it smarted from the slap, her glare at Kaden lessening as he actually engaged in what, by his standards, was a heartfelt apology. She returned to the bar, scooting up onto a stool and sniffing at the wine bottle herself. "I forgot 'ow bitter zese Felmarian wines are," she complained, still pouring a glass for herself. "Is like vinegar. I should get you a bottle of Varangian, sweet as 'oney. Skol." She raised the glass before knocking it back, then coughed violently as it went down her throat. "Zat is very dry," she wheezed. "Oof." She glanced down the bar at Caden, gauging his reaction, before looking to her father figure and the letter in his paw. "So," she inquired, "what did Mister Bridger 'ave to say? Ozzer zan 'you're a 'Gates-damned fool and I miss you so much'?"

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden nodded approvingly as the old jack apologized. Just like memories of his mother, Caden had complicated recollections of the weasel. He was a figure who Caden had looked up to in many ways, but the marten also found reasons to fear and doubt Kaden's actions and way of being. While nobeast was wholly good or bad by his estimation, the confused kit inside of him had become wary of his heroes the older he got and the more perspective he gained. When the weasel apologized, tension Caden did not know he held in his chest relaxed somewhat, and he felt a sense of relief. This hero, at least, had been given the opportunity to change, and it seemed he had for the better.

He poured himself a glass of wine and sniffed the contents before taking a drink. The marten smacked his lips, raising the glass appreciatively towards Kaden. "Just as strong and dry as I remember it. Makes a beast feel alive, drinking it."

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine grumbled from down the bar, "Masochista."