The Market Overworked Late-Nights

" It's way too early for this . . ." — The one part of the back of his head Screamed and Scratched over and over again, the Screams getting louder then Aztec Death and the scratches Grinding deeper into his head. The feeling was Strong, Weighing on the Otter's shoulders and pinning him down. But he's too stubborn.

Huckle Keeps going

" I need to stop . . . I have to go to bed" — The weight on his body as well as him mind told him, repeating like a broken record. But it's only the voice that's Broken, not his body.. Not yet at least.

Huckle Keeps going

It was late at night, Morning soon to break in the next few hours. Huckle was deep in his field, picking at his fruit and throwing it inside of his basket while his Small, Glass-like lantern lit on his back; Sometimes he had to use it as a cane. The Worker's legs were getting weak and his tail was dragging along the floor as if it were heavier then his entire body. He might pass out at the rate.. But, he persisted.

A few minutes pass, the Young Male walking throughout the slightly empty market with a hood covering his head, a sluggish walk following him around while others starred at him
 
One of those beasts staring at the tired-looking otter was Fogey Captain Callix Noxi. The monitor lizard was a bit of a frightening sight with her milky eye, her uniform, and hardened demeanour, but she was committed to her post, unlike many of her comrades. Traces of prejudice slithered through her brain, having been accustomed so many years to a non-woodlander community, and yet she prided herself on following the rules. The Imperium had welcomed her when she was a lost primitive. Now it allowed a greater variety of beasts. Why should she not uphold this? It was a good and fair law, she resolved.

As she watched, she noted that the otter looked on the verge of collapse. It being her duty to protect the Imperium's citizens, this would not do at all.

"You zere, Citizen Otter, do you need azziztanze?"
 
His eyes softly widened with the sigh of her, his head still heavy as he looked up at her. He looked like a corpse being dragged on by it's neck, and his eye showed no difference. That dead look starred back at the officer, his body stiffening up slightly as he raised his uniform


" U-Uhm.. No, No I'm — Fine "
 
Swifttail padded along the darkened edge of the market with quiet steps, the cobblestones glinting faintly in the lamplight. The air was heavy with the scent of old bread, old fish, and brine. He wasn’t usually out this late. But sleep hadn’t come easy tonight. Not after everything they’d seen and done on Urk. His paws felt restless. His thoughts, too loud.

He moved with purpose, scanning the quiet stalls, ears flicking at every little sound. A strange calm had settled over him...confidence, maybe? Or foolishness. Either way, he figured he could handle a thief if one showed up. A fox doesn’t survive shipwrecks and cannibal shrews just to get bested by some pickpocket in an alleyway.

That’s when a sharp voice carried across the market: firm, clipped, and unmistakably Fogey. His ears perked. His eyes followed.

And there, half slumped under the weight of an overstuffed fruit basket, lantern swinging from his back, was an otter who looked ready to collapse into the nearest melon crate. Without hesitation, Swifttail jogged forward and slipped in beside him, paw catching one of the basket’s handles with ease.

“Hey, mate,” he said brightly, offering a crooked, disarming grin. “Take a break! You look run ragged.”

His tail gave a cheerful little wag as he steadied the load. His tone was light, playful, and easygoing.

“M'name’s Swifttail.” :3
 
Huckle froze where he stood, slowly turning over to look at Swift as he body shook with the tired limpness of the night's hard wotk. Although at a time like this, he'd rather die the conversate with someone; Especially when he's at such a low as this. But he kept up his Kind Personality, forcing a small and Weak smile on his face, being just as calm as a Hurricane

" Mines Huckle... I-I don't need a break, I need to.. Go.."
 
Swifttail nodded sagely.

"Aye, ye' can keep going as ye' we're, but it sure doesn't look like you'd make it much further."

He removed his paw from the fruit crate and put them on his hips.

"What fruit-related emergency requires such haste? Take a rest for a couple minutes," he gestured to the monitor lizard fogey officer with a small wag. "I'm not gonna rob you."

A pause. Perhaps leaving it on the reassurance of no robbery wasn't the best idea in the market during the witching hour. Swifttail decided to change the subject.

"I like your fur! It's very curly. Ye' don't see that very often!"
 
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