Private The Trenches Nowhere To Go But Everywhere

[Tanya Keltoi]

A snort of mirth escaped her at Daniil’s reply, pleasantly surprised at such a rebuttal from the todd she had taken to be more reserved (yet, considering who had raised him, should she really be at all surprised her cheeky wit had passed on?). Unable to resist grinning at him, she allowed the conversation to flow around her a short while more.

The nature of it sobered her expression somewhat. “Mmm you aren’t wrong there,” she murmured to Eirene, something distant in green eyes. Sken should be here. “Seems like fewer and fewer of us were so lucky after all the Imperium’s been through. Might not like gettin’ grey in the fur but each strand reminds me how lucky I am.” In truth the vixen had never imagined herself hitting twenty: to have found a future for herself and raised kits in a beautiful part of the world to boot was indeed a blessing few had been fortunate enough to enjoy. Many beasts far worthier than her with lives and futures of their own had reached the eternal shores of the dark forest without such luck.

Still, it would do little good to become maudlin on this of all days. “Ah well, doesn’t mean age doesn’t floor a beast sometimes, eh?” Tanya cast Daniil and Asta a mischievous smirk. “You know, the last time I was in this city I was watchin’ Caden toddle ‘round when he was knee-high to me. Took me a good moment to realise this great lump of marten’s the same beast.”

 

[Asta Dalgaard]

Asta crowed with laughter at the thought of a knee-high Caden toddling about. "Aw, I can only imagining him so small. He was probably very cute, ja?"

Caden folded his arms over his chest, affecting a lofty expression. "I was indeed quite cute. It's probably how I managed to survive into adulthood. I was quite the menace; I don't think anybeast would have put up with me had I not been an adorable little fluffball."

"Oh, you needing to tell me stories of little Caden," Asta said to Tanya. "He never talking about when he was a kit."

Extricating himself from the interaction, Caden made a break for the bar. "I will need a drink or three to survive that trip down memory lane."

 

[Bezine D'Oiravere]

Bezine couldn't quite keep a snort of laughter from escaping her nose. "Oh, you need to tell," she implored Tanya. "I know 'im only shortly in ze time after you are gone; I want to 'ear everyzing."

Morgan groaned as she looked to Vihma. "Great, th' grown-ups are gonna get t' reminiscin' about the ol' days now," she sighed. "Maybe we should get one a' them drinks too, if we're gonna be 'ere stuck listening to ancient history."

"I heard dat," Eirene called to her daughter, her tone mild.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden waved Morgan and Vihma over to the bar. "Please, join me. There's a reason I got as far from the Imperium as I could back in those days." He looked over the drink offerings arrayed behind the bar, scratching at the edges of his healing burn. "Hmm I have an idea to make this night extra interesting."

The marten gave the two jills a sly grin. "You two get to pick my drinks tonight. I'll drink whatever you give me, within reason." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur, red eyes alight with mischief. "I gotta be able to perform for Daniil later, after all."

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan grinned at the invitation, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "Well, there's a drink I had back in Akef," she remarked, "but I dunno if we can make it the same. It was a peach liquor mixed with freshly squeezed tangarines, but I don't think there's any of those about. We can probably make something similar, though. We just need something fruity and a different fruit."

 

[Vihmastaja]

Vihma was a jill of simple tastes . Beer and bread, whatever took thirst or hunger away, and all the better if it tasted good. Still, life was dull with only what she knew and had. Akef was a place she'd hardly even heard of, and so the idea of whatever they might drink there - whatever Morgan might have had, in that adventurous life of hers - made her ears perk up and her whiskers twitch with a smile.

Giving her a sly, sideways look, the weasel slid herself closer to the ferret, voice dripping with mock disapproval.

"Yer taste 'n booze is abou' as fruity as I'd've expected."

Unable to keep a serious expression, Vihma forced herself to look back to Caden, trying to be at least somewhat helpful for the birthday jack.

"Er, peaches 'n... tangerines? Dunno if I've 'ad those. S'not like an orange, is it? Mebbe Rind's got some o'that someplace?"

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan blushed a bit at the comment regarding her tastes, biting her tongue to keep from making an off-color comment about letting Vihma sample her taste. They weren't quite at that stage of the relationship yet, and the last thing Morgan wanted to do was to scare Vihma off by moving too fast. Instead she focused on the matter of substitute ingredients, considering oranges in place of tangerines. "If 'e's got any, 'ey'd prob'ly taste even better," she assessed. "Sweeter fer sure." She considered vaulting the bar, but she was still tender enough from her recent spate of injuries to not risk aggravating them. Instead she circled the bar, rummaging about behind the counter. "Found the peach liquor," she commented, holding up a bottle before setting it on the bar top. "There's an orange liqueur too, but that might make it a bit strong. Vim, ya mind lookin' in th' back while I search up 'ere? If 'e's got a bottle o' th' squeezed stuff, 'at'll do jus' fine."

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden leaned an elbow on the bar and grabbed the peach liquor. He pulled out the cork and sniffed at the contents. Blinking, his whiskers twitched in approval. "Well, that does smell lovely. And really, if all you can find is the orange liqueur, I don't mind a strong drink. What's more alcohol on top of alcohol, eh?" He chuckled and turned as Asta laughed behind him, presumably at something Tanya had said about him as a kit.

"You're not telling them the Missertrosse gull story, are you?" he asked with trepidation.

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Very swiftly Tanya found herself in her element, green eyes glittering with a mischief soon losing purpose: what had intended as teasing was, for her, treasured memory and there was little disguising the hints of pride as she spoke.

“Aaah Caden was a cute one for sure, liddle toddlin’ puff of white fur that he was with big eyes – can only tell you how hard it was keeping him clean in a city like this. Didn’t mean he was an easygoin’ little one, either: got in a tizz more often than not most days and he could be a right little shark. Shame, really: all a body really wanted to do was hug him but he weren’t having any of it save for bedtimes. He was that cute sort’ve bossy some toddlers can be and all. Should have known he’d make good leadership back then. My twins were tiny at the time and he’d this habit of decidin’ that-”

The beast of the hour spoke again and the vixen’s half-ear twitched. There came a reflective pause as she sought to bring to recollection the tale itself. Fractured as her memories often were after so many head injuries, it took a few moments. Her face lit up once more. “Oh the Missertrosse gull story! You ‘aven’t told that one before?! Ohhh, you owe it to Asta.”

 

[Eirene Liu]

Bezine listened politely to the kithood story, her paws clasped behind her back, trying to present interest. She'd never really seen the appeal of kits herself; they always seemed too loud and slobbery to her. Even Morgan, as old as they'd gotten her, had proven herself a headache. Eirene, however, was lost in the narrative, rapt attention fixed upon the vixen. The ferret grinned as Caden unwittingly handed them ammunition, and she gleefully fired back with it. "Well, now you need to tell us de Missertrosse gull story," she declared, looking to Tanya with interest. "Why do I tink dis ended wit' featters flying?"

 

[Vihmastaja]

Vihma wasn’t quick to pull herself away from them all, lingering near Morgan and the bottle for a moment too long before making for the back of the bar, what she thought might be the pantry. Bottles and fruit and the rest, some she recognized, most she didn’t. Oranges, at least, were simple. A device to ream or squeeze them, she wasn’t so sure of. The weasel found a glass that looked about right, full of the orange-yellow liquid she expected – hopefully still good for drinking. She didn’t know how long this sort of thing lasted.

She came back the jar in hand, not quite blending in with her fur, standing out well enough against the white shirt she wore.

The conversation had moved on, and she didn’t feel fit to involve herself in it, just keeping an ear out for where this ‘Missertrosse Gull” story would go as she walked back to the bar. Setting the glass she’d found down near to Morgan, she spoke somewhat softly, so as not to interfere with the other beasts’ conversation.

“Found this, ‘opefully it’s good. There’s oranges otherwise – not sure I know ‘ow to get the juice out of ‘em, though.”

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan's face lit up as Vihma brought in a jar of orange liquid, the brightness of the texture immediately confirming it was what they were looking for. "Alrigh', well done Vim!" Enthusiastically she kissed her girlfriend's cheek before accepting the jar, setting it down on the counter. Her free arm went around Vihma's waist, the gesture feeling as natural to her as breathing. She focused her attention on the drinks, assembling a tumbler, a few small glasses, the jar of orange juice, and the bottle of peach liqueur. "So," she narrated as she used one paw to work the bottle cap on the liqueur, "You want abou' one par' liqueur t' two par's juice. Looks like 'is'll be 'nough fer us, an' we can allus squeeze a few more if we'd like." She had to briefly let go of Vihma to get the cap off the jar; it had stuck slightly, and a few decidedly unfeminine grunts were required to get it open. "There we go," she declared, giving it a brief sniff. "Ah, perfec', jus' started fermentin'. Th' bes' time fer it, gives a nice crisp tang."

She returned her paw to Vihma's waist as she poured the orange juice into the tumbler, followed by half again that amount in liqueur. "Wish we 'ad some ice," she mused as she capped the tumbler and picked it up with one paw. "Woul' be interestin' t' try it chilled." She shook the mixture, not vigorously, but enough to get the two liquids mixing nicely. Then, carefully, she poured out the mixture between the three glasses. "'Ere we go," she declared, setting the tumbler aside. "A fruity drink fer a buncha fruits like us. I'll make ya one later, Daniil," she called to the fox, who briefly turned his attention away from Tanya's story with a quizzical glance before refocusing on his aunt. Morgan raised her glass in her paw, making a toast. "T' th' nameday lad," she offered. "May ya 'ave so many ya lose count."