Open The Frost Fair of 1765

[Zara Raposa]

Zara offered a light curtsy and a pleased bob of the head at Ruffano's acknowledgement before she looked up at what the red panda presented. She gave a coy chuckle and a smile to the minister.

"Well, why not?"

She glanced sidelong to the sweet picture of the panda getting down to Quickwhistle's level, gave an approving hum and then planted a kiss upon Callisto's lips. He was warm, inviting, strong. If she didn't have her head on straight, a lady might get swept up easily.

The vixen let out a soft sigh. "I am Madame Raposa," she introduced herself at last, "of the House of Respite."

There bloomed a shrewd gleam in her eye as she looked back to Callisto.

"That'll be twenty-five gilders."​

@Callisto Bluemoon @Ruffano Quickwhistle @Pomodu lu Modokunomulo

 

[Nevali]

Nevali gamely flopped her watermelon slice, cursing her short little weasel arms. She could see the leech just fine, but to get the watermelon close to its maw would involve flopping over or twisting herself into a circle and then flopping over, and she was embarrassing herself enough as it was. All part of the show, she told herself. From the expressions of most of the crowd, they had been, and still were, eating out of her paws on the whole concept of the fae beast.

She locked eyes with Tizzi Poof, whose gamey, blank expression conveyed no information whatsoever.

"How's it lookin'?" she gently asked, glancing up at Matisse. "Like wotcher see?" She gave her rump a little wiggle, and winced - bad idea. It was like she'd emptied out the entire pin box back at the office and sat on the pile. Though perhaps the mysteries of her rump did deserve to be up on the cork-board map with the rest of the paranormal happenings of the town, after this...

Tizzi, still clad in smock and bonnet, had its view obstructed and did not know what was touching it, nor who was doing the touching. It could smell watermelon, but then again, the entire front of its smock was drenched in the juices, as was its face. Everything smelled like melon. It wasn't really even hungry anymore, but the Deal was that upon doing the vanishing trick, it would get a slice. Tizzi Poof was owed that last slice!

It kicked and growled as the metal prodded and pried at its body, curling its legs up to its tummy, forepaws grasping hindpaws, morphing into a teardrop shape. Its teeth dug in a little deeper. Drool seeped out the side of its mouth. Its little tail whipped back and forth, marking the milliseconds.

"I can see its eyes," said somebeast in the crowd. "Now it's holdin' still. I seen that madness afore... many moons ago, aye, when a shark caught in our nettin'. It's a bloodseeker for certain."

Tizzi's little ears perked up with pride, hidden beneath its frilly bonnet.

"T'z'p'f!"

 

[Jill (The Beast)]

Mordecai watched Jill closely to see if his words had landed -- but her face was inscrutable. It was almost as if she were wearing a mask. The old squirrel sighed... perhaps he'd gone overboard with his lectures again. Only the other day, he'd nearly put a poor dibbun to sleep with a long discourse on the immorality of stealing from the larder. He shook his head with a smile, and reached out with one arm to give the girl a hug. "I knew I'd have someone I could call on!" he said warmly. "To the faire!"

- - -

Only a few minutes later, the pair had reached the outskirts of the event that night. The crowds proved to be a bit too dense for the abbot's liking, and so he moved towards the bonfires instead. Though his own gifts were perhaps overshadowed by the generosity of the ministries, they were of a different caliber. Almost all of the gifts were suited towards dibbuns: small handmade wooden carts, cornhusk dolls with flour sack clothes, ball and cup games. Each came with a small card with a handwritten blessing, and a slice of dense fruitcake, crusted with coarse chunks of sugar and almonds.

"Come, Jill... let me have the bag. You should give some out. Care to dress as Santapaws?" he asked playfully, rummaging through the sack. He produced a bright red hat with a little white pom pom on top, and beamed at it proudly. "You'd look brilliant in this!"

Jill froze up a bit at this, and she smiled, albeit a bit nervously. "If you insist, Father. But if you ask me, you'd be more fitting as the old Saint himself."

She leaned down, allowing Mordecai to plop the hat onto her head before jostling the bag off her shoulders and handing it off to him. Jill grabbed the first present, and looked around for any kits nearby.