Open Into the Foxes' Den

(Kinda an open thread, just message Dusk and Dryad/Caden if you'd like to join. Caden and Daniil are about to walk into a very dangerous situation they'll inevitably have to fight their way out of.)

"See? I was correct about turning left at that intersection," Daniil remarked to Caden as he pushed open the door to the dingy, dimly lit tavern tucked away down a back alley in the Slups. "That ferret didn't know what he was talking about." He held the door open for his partner, letting light spill into the smokey environment, the haze from a dozen lit cigars forming a cloud inside that cut visibility significantly. There were, at least, a significant number of males in the room, and from what Daniil could discern, they mostly seemed to be foxes, though that wasn't surprising. After all, they were represented to an outsized extent in the population, even more now after the acquisition of Westisle and the new wave of migration it had inspired. They certainly matched what Daniil had been told to expect, primarily a lot of especially furry beasts in an inordinate amount of leather. He'd also been told they were wary of strangers, and the looks he was getting ranged from the cautious to the contemptuous.

"Hullo chaps," Daniil greeted them, trying to put on his best Vulpinsulan accent, bright and energetic. He glanced to Caden and nodded toward a table near the bar. "Looks like there's space open for us," he indicated. "Shall we?" He offered Caden his arm.
 
"I imagined it more...colorful?" Caden took Daniil's arm. He waved smoke from his face with his other paw. "In the city closest to my village in northern Varangia, these sorts of places were far more lively."

They traipsed through the tavern to the table. Caden released Daniil's arm and pulled his chair out for him. "But I suppose open acceptance has not been the norm in the Imperium for as long."

The marten felt the fur on the back of his neck prickling with caution. He glanced around the room, noting several of the nearest foxes glowering at him. Taking a seat across from Daniil, Caden adjusted his purple ascot, a bright splash of color against his crisp, white shirt and black vest. He had forgone wearing his sword, instead opting for the simple dirk he had carried as a kit and younger adolescent--the one belonging he had kept from his younger days in the Imperium.

"Thank you for inviting me out," he gave Daniil a shy smile. "I haven't had much opportunity to simply go out with a friend in quite some time."
 
Daniil, for his part, unbuttoned his own Fyadorian-style coat to reveal that he had chosen to wear a colorful ascot of rainbow hues above his similarly Fyadorian style shirt, both buttoning up the sides. He'd brought his own katana with him, as he did everywhere he went; he even cradled it to his chest as he slept, fearful that it would be stolen from him in his sleep. He smiled at Caden, a bit bashful, but still more relaxed than he'd been in all the time Caden had known him. "Thank you for coming with me," he confirmed. His eyes went down to the table as he admitted, "I've never come someplace like this on my own. I've never quite had the courage. My sister used to take me to one in Westisle, but it's nothing like this." He looked about, noticing how many eyes were on them. He blushed a bit as he leaned in and added, "I think they must assume we're here as a couple. I think they're jealous of me."
 
Caden flicked an ear and gave a sidelong glance to the nearest beast at the bar, his tone playful. "Hm, you think? I'd say they could just as well be jealous of me, seeing me with a handsome, well-dressed todd such as yourself." The marten's smile became more comfortable and open as he winked roguishly at Daniil.

"And besides, it's always more fun to go to one of these places with a friend. You get to subtly--or not-so-subtly--assess the other beasts in the bar together." He tilted his head towards a hulking specimen of a fox with tattooed arms several tables over. "For example, do you think he's as tough as he looks, or is he a gentle giant who takes great pride in giving excellent hugs?"
 
Daniil followed Caden's gaze, trying to ignore the small twinge of distress in his heart as Caden eyed the others in the bar. For some reason, the description of them both as 'friends' unnerved him in this context, while the thought of the marten leaving arm in arm with another fox made him... queasy? Weepy? Jealous, a part of him whispered from deep within. He swallowed that feeling and focused on the fox that Caden had indicated. That fox met his gaze and, picking up a knife that he'd embedded tip-first in the table, he pointed it at Daniil, then mimed drawing it across his own throat.

Daniil blinked. "I think he might be into something fairly extreme," he remarked. His eyes traveled across the patrons in the bar, noticing that it wasn't just mostly foxes - it was all foxes. He frowned, furrowing his brow. "I know there's the stereotype of foxes and our preferences," he remarked quietly, leaning in towards Caden, "but I thought there would be at least a few mustelids here. Plus, the atmosphere leaves something to be desired. The teahouse in Westisle was more colorful than this. Perhaps there's a remembrance or wake going on for someone in the community?"
 
"Huh. Maybe." Caden scratched at his cheek as he made a more detailed inspection of the other tavern-goers. "We are in the Slups, after all. Perhaps if we had found such a place in the Trenches it would be more tasteful."

He turned back to Daniil. "And who says I only fancy other mustelids? Jacks, bucks, todds--I am picky, to be sure, but not about the species." It felt very important to him that the todd knew this bit of information about his preferences, though he made a point to avoid searching any further down that particular avenue of thought in the present moment.

"It's about the presence of another, how they hold themselves and how they interact, their candor and earnestness and frank honesty about who they are. And, well, it helps if they're easy on the eyes, too." The marten lifted his brow. "What about you, Daniil? Do you have any particular preferences? Maybe we could find you a suitable todd tonight."
 
Daniil's eyes widened, and he seemed to panic a bit as he realized that Caden had gotten entirely the wrong view of his preferences. "Oh, no," he hurried to state, "that wasn't my point at all. I wasn't saying that you should only be with mustelids; you should be with whoever you like." He cleared his throat, trying to clear a lump there which just wouldn't go away. "Erm..." He took a deep breath before admitting, "I actually think that... er... martens... are very handsome." He tried fruitlessly once more to clear his throat. "It's the fur, I, err... I think the texture looks nice. Haven't really gotten to touch it much though." 'Gates, he couldn't even look at Caden without blushing.

The pair's conversation was cut short by a shorter fox, his muscles well defined despite his rather lean frame, getting up from his table nearby to sit down at the free spot at theirs. He had sharp yellow eyes and orange fur, his gaze flitting between the pair as they came in. "You know," he remarked, "we were just talkin', an' we reckon you either 'ave to be really brave or really stupid to come in 'ere. So, I reckoned I'd come on by to ask you two direc' which it is. You brave, lads? Or are you stupid?" His eyes flitted between the pair of them.

Daniil, for his part, was left momentarily speechless, looking to Caden for help. Was this a Vulpinsulan cultural thing, or a part of the subculture that he'd missed in Hanshima?
 
Caden did not want to admit to himself that he felt a thrill when Daniil revealed his attraction to martens. He was about to lean in to provide the todd with an opportunity to sate his curiosity on the texture of marten fur when the short fox approached their table. Caden took in the newcomer's appearance and demeanor. The prickle on the back of his neckfur that he had felt upon entering the bar turned into a hackle rise.

"I could ask you the same question," Caden said, his voice level. He adjusted his glasses on his snout. "Perhaps I'm missing something here, though. We have yet to be asked if we want any food or drinks, and everybeast is looking at us as though we smell worse than a washed up whale. In all honesty, I haven't been to this kind of establishment in the Imperium before, and neither has my friend here. Have we simply gotten off on the wrong footpaw, maybe neglected to announce ourselves properly?"
 
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