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.

 

[Willow "Longshanks"]

She smiles up at him. "Ah, quite alrighd, I fink. Fank you."

Seeing her fear fade so visibly within his presence, he can't help but grin back at her while basking in the warmth of her smile. With another bob of his head, he keeps his voice low and offers a: "Good—very good to hear, miss."

Adelina glances over at the tall lynx and back up at mystery beast, blinking a few times and leaning into the crook of his arm. "Laska, Miss Laska. And yes, I would be delie'ted to join you for drinks. Mister...?"

His heart flutters as she leans in(!) while his grip is there to support her and, feeling quite like that flutter has tickled its way upward as he attempts to speak, he clears his throat with a gentle cough and hopes it's not too obvious that he's feeling a little flustered. It's not everyday that a lovely vixen is thrust into one's arms!

"I'd be delighted myself if you could call me Willow, miss Laska." He bows his head and rolls one hand away from her shoulder in a flourish. "I'm afraid I've lost my surname—"

"—Nonzenze." Freya barks as she snaps her attention back to the he-wolf and vixen, arching a brow while crossing broad arms across an even broader chest. "Longshankz iz perfektly good name."

He grimaces, deflating at the thought of another battle on recently tread ground. "...I suppose—ah, but that all really is besides the point! Come, let us grab you some of this intriguing fizzy-drink! Freya here—"

"—Oh, yez, little Lazka, you ken call me Freya." The Large Lynx levies a smile, one surprisingly well mannered against her usually scowl. Perhaps it is the proximity to a taste of her homeland, which she gestures the pair towards once again with an increasing vigor. "Now kome, ~little Lazka and leggy Longshankz~, tell me vhat you think of drink of my homeland!"

With that, the Lynx turns bobtail and heads towards the stand with a spring in her step, unable to keep the cheerful smile from overtaking her features.

Offering the little miss Laska a chuckle as he watches the cat spring off, Willow starts to stand fully. Up and up, and up he goes, towering over her—and the rest of the crowd—nearly another beast's height before finally coming to a stop. He could knock a missertross gull straight out of the air if he wanted to! Touch the tops of the stalls if he deemed it necessary!

But the gentlebeast is just that, offering out his paw to the lady before him with a smile that tries not to be too wolfish.

"Shall we?"

----

Dodging members of the crowd, spectators of their little crash, and even the stray snowball or three, Willow gracefully clears the path before the pair, his paw light and warm in hers. As they make their way to the Northlands stand, he can't help but be a picture of excitement, now leading another at the whims of his own—much the way Freya was not more than a few moments before.

Their destination touts all manner of strange and interesting foodstuffs but the most popular, by far, is the fermented pine needle and crushed berry concoction. Despite the multiple beast long wait at the stand, Freya turns, offering out a pair of decorative wooden mugs filled to the brim with the bubbling seltzer. The otherwise transparent liquid is dyed a rich red, smelling sweet and light to anybeast with a keen enough nose.

"I know guy." Her smile turns downright mischievous, an ominous thing to any beast who might have seen her elsewhere—on the BlackShip for example. "Inside konnektion~!"

As the trio take up their mugs and prepare to drink, Willow pauses to hold it in a toast.

"To new experiences~!"

Smiling broadly down at Miss Laska, he winks and tips his drink up. Just in time to be hit in the bottom with a snowball—

 

[Adelina Laska]

Following the quick exchange with interest and then trying not be dazzled, or dizzied, by the full realization of Willow's high, Adelina smiles indulgently and hooks her arm around his to take his paw.

"Shall we?"

"Yes, lets!"

And I can let him worry about keeping up with that Freya in this crowd.

----

Adelina keeps a slightly tighter grip on his paw then he on hers, relying on him to lead her through the press of beasts in exactly the way he hadn't needed to when Freya had been pulling him. Although when they arrive and she starts to delightedly take in the booth's offerings she is only a little breathless.

"I know guy." Her smile turns downright mischievous, an ominous thing to any beast who might have seen her elsewhere—on the BlackShip for example. "Inside konnektion~!"

Nodding thanks Adelina examines the drink curiously, smiling and blinking in surprise when the bubbles tickle her nose.

"To new experiences~!"

Still not sure what to make of this strange, and apparently chemically active, drink Adelina grins at the choice of toast, razing her mug enthusiastically.

"New experiences~!"

She tips the brew back for a deep drink and then, already stifling a giggle at his wink, has to fight to avert a full on spit-take when he jolts under the impact of the snowball. The combination with the bubbles now tickling the inside of her nose leaves her off balance and eyes watering but laughing with delight as she manages to swallow her first gulp.

 

[Kinza Rainclaw]

As she considered getting up again, Kinza’s attention was caught by a marten waving at her whilst in the company of her brother. There was a fox with them, too, also waving, and they all looked to be getting on well. That was enough of a curiosity for her.

Pushing up from the ice she wobbled upright, nearly losing her balance again until she managed to get the skates to stay relatively still with toes pointed inward. She hadn’t quite got the idea of that being part of the skill and put it down to luck and determination.

Kinza, with arms flailing like a tube man, succeeded in reaching the group, only able to stop her thankfully light momentum by relying on the solidness of her brother to bump into.

“Hi!” She said nothing further, keenly interested in whatever was being discussed.

@Lorcan Rainclaw @Daniil Ryalor @Caden S. Freemont​

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Woodlander Coalition Forces (WCF) [ 17 HP ]	Vulpine Supremacists [ 19 HP ]	Chaos Goblins [ 3 HP ]	Poor Bystanders [ 2 HP ]
Finnian [ 3 / 3 HP ] (-1, +3 REZ)	7x NPC [ 14 / 24 HP ] (-4)	Korya [ 3 / 3 HP ]	Dr. Amatis [ 0 / 3 HP ] (-2)
Calara [ 3 / 3 HP ]		Griblo [ 0 / 3 HP ] (-1)	Willow Longshanks [ 2 / 3 HP ]
Evva [ 3 / 3 HP ]
NPC/Rabbit [ 1 / 3 HP ]
(2x) NPC/Stoat Twins [ 4 / 6 HP ] (-1)
(2x) NPC/Ferret Siblings [ 3 / 6 HP ] (-3)
Swifttail [3 / 3 HP ]

As anyone at the ill fated Opera House could have tell you, the Vulpinists were a vicious group -- mean to the core, and not to be trifled with. As the others began to hearken to Finny's call, they began to redouble their efforts in earnest. Hunkering down in their meager fort, they began to target the weakest links of the coalition forces -- lobbing snowballs at the poor bunny hunkered down. But from behind the barrel, she was safe.

The next target were the ferret siblings -- and each ate a snowball under the chin. Spying Griblo's absolute cannon of an arm, the leader of the Vulpinists called out (in a vaguely Irish accent), "Leggo, lass! Take him down!" From behind the fort, a vixen of stunning beauty (named Leggo, of course) lept up onto the wall, and launched a precision shot across the field, pegging Griblo right in the face.

Their final victim was poor Dr. Amatis. The sight of a grumpy academic struggling to find his glasses was too much for the bullies to resist, and a hail of snowballs pelted him down into the snow.

Now Finn would have felt quite bad for poor Dr. Amatis, if a massive boulder of snow hadn't sailed clear through the darkened sky, crashing down between his shoulders. The sheer weight of the snow knocked him off his feet, and straight into a slushy pile. Poor Finn let out a shriek as the icy cold water seeped through his shirt.

As the stunned kit lay in a shallow pool of water, he could hear the cries of the woodlanders, furiously launching their volleys at the fort. But that was it for him... there would be no victory. He could feel the cold, slushy waters seeping into his fur. Bully would fall, the vulpinists would have their day again, and no one would avenge the innocent fur shed by...

...hellgates! Not like this!

With a surge of energy, Finn raised up from the dead, and ripped off his wet shirt. After all, he was a Tough Little Biscuit(TM). Seizing a red scarf that had the ground, he threw it around his neck, and fashioned himself a snowball with a noble and fierce glint in his eye. "For the Opera House! For Bully! FOR OSCAR! CHAARGEEE!!" he roared.



( Courtesy of the wonderful @Bucketfox )