Rainblade-Ryalors Private East Tookumberry The Poison Fox and the Singed Rose

[Mina Rose Brewer]

Captain Dawson of the Sparrowhawk, a rat temporarily relieved of command and relegated to first officer status, nodded as the small schooner maneuvered through the Tookumberry Keys. "That's the island there, Cap'n," he addressed the guest who had assumed his command. "Doesn't have a proper name on the Imperial charts. Mos' sorts 'round here take to callin' it Admiral Island, on account of the Admiral Rainblade Inn." He nodded grimly toward a burnt husk of a building, the scorch marks still fresh but for a few seasonal rains. "Guess they'll have to find a new name for it now," he reflected.

He made a gesture, and his men worked to trim the sails, slowing their speed as they approached a long dock, not built large enough to handle the greater ships like the navy vessels or merchant frigates that came in and out of Bully Harbor. For the Sparrowsong, however, it was just the right size. The ship had been retrofitted with an experimental design - a small engine, the only evidence of it a pipe running up the mainmast to clear the smoke out above the main deck, installed on the rower's deck below, and paddles mounted on swivel hinges and attached to a complicated gear mechanism. The only sign that anything was off was that the oars in their 'stowed' position were tucked back against the outside hull of the ship, forming a long frill like a fin; when it got going, though, the ship could add a burst of speed by engaging the engine and setting the oars going. It wasn't quite as fast or effective as a dedicated team of rowers, and the coal required to power the engine was an additional weight on the ship, one whose efficacy was debatable. Still, Dusk had been quite determined to separate the ship from its history as a slaving vessel, and repurposing the space originally used by its rowing slaves had been part of that philosophy.

The rat captain nodded to the guest who had command of the vessel as they pulled up to the dock, several of the crew jumping to secure the craft with ropes and push the boarding ramp to form a bridge. "Figured that searchin' th' ruins first made sense, Cap'n. If y' find 'er, in any condition, cuts our trip short." He pointed southward, advising, "Town on th' island is only a five minute walk. We can move th' ship t' dock there if ye want, bu' honestly, walkin' may be quicker. Jus' let us know."

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

[Following on from The Blood On Our Paws]

The journey had proven a pleasant one for Tanya. Initially she had intended to sequester herself in the ship’s cabin and devote herself entirely the process of coming to terms with the slew of revelations which had come running thick and fast the day before departure. There was so much to reflect on, to unpack and learn, and so much history of the Imperium to catch up on. Books had been scrounged in a hurry and a cabin prepared.

In the end, the active process of sailing was what ultimately captured her attention. The Sparrowsong was a far larger vessel than the ketch she and Jeshal shared, but remained small enough that sailing did not feel an impersonal task. She had fallen to work with a will, letting the combination of physical and mental exertions do their bit to help her work, privately, through grief and shock. As for the books, they remained untouched: evenings in the mess were devoted to swapping stories and grilling the crew. History, after all, rarely captured the thoughts and experiences of the average beast in its pages. Furthermore, she had become more than a little enamoured with the Sparrowsong’s retrofitting: the more she observed of the craft, the more the fox decided she rather wanted it.

Staring now at the smouldering remains of what she had supposed was the Red Parrot Inn, Tox’ ragged ears flicked in awkward register at the moniker. She supposed she should be old enough not to let it bother her, but embarrassment still prickled beneath the surface. Ah well, if it had served alcohol it’s as a good a representation of my legacy as anything.

Inclining her head towards the rat as he explained, the vixen nodded her understanding though her eyes never ceased their restless darting over the isle, the ruins and the horizon beyond. Where in ‘Gates had the Navy been that a pirating vessel had managed to make their attack and flee unchallenged? Had they noted the name? If she’d been commanding in this day and age it would have been imperative-

I sincerely hope, Tanya, that you never rise to her notice. I think you would find her to be far more possessive a regent than Mar'kan ever was.

At once she put the blocks on such trains of thought, scowling to herself as she focused once again on the present. “Thanky’ Cap’n Dawson,” she spoke at length, giving him a polite nod of the head: guest as she was, it felt only polite to show deference to the beast who knew the ‘Song best. “Leave the ship here as you will. Feel free t’ take who you please into town, though, and set up a tab. I’ll stop buy to pay for some more water and long’s they’re fit enough to work they’re welcome to few drinks by way of thanks.” Of course, knowing Tanya, it wasn’t all purely in kindness: it was good practice to keep those working for her on-side with generosity, and a little tipsiness helped fog sharper memories. It would do no good to have the crew too clear on who their new guest was to be.

Now the matter was in finding this other guest, if she was indeed alive at all. Suppressing such thoughts for the moment, the vixen sauntered to the ramp and, once ready, made her departure. In her younger days she might have been impatient enough to simply vault the railing and enjoy the sensation of sunwarmed shallows: these days she did not fancy taking the toll on her knees.

The acrid tang of burned materials still lingered on the breeze as she approached the ruins, old smuts of ash and soot stirred up by vagrant breezes after dry weather. Paint, alcohol, fur…It was a sad and desolate sight, but one still so visceral in the assault upon ones’ senses that for a moment the vixen paused. Even at her most venomous in pursuit of targets she had never much liked the use of fire; a danger and a risk on the open ocean. To be trapped aboard when blazes reached the powder room was a fate she did not even wish upon her enemies; except, perhaps, those who might have harmed her niece.

Resolved to find what she could, the diminutive fox began carefully scoping out the ruins, trotting around the perimeter in an initial examination with the hopes of finding some lead or other from which to work with.

 

[Mina Rose Brewer]

The extent of the devastation was total; only fragments of the upper floors remained attached to the skeleton of the house, its roof and the majority of its timbers collapsed inward upon itself. There were signs of excavation, though, and no bodies; evidently the locals had put in work to see those who had perished here put to rest. The dark stains on the ground outside, not fully washed away by wind and rain, confirmed that amount to be significantly larger than none.

"Ay!" An elderly femme's voice, sharp and cracking like a whip, breached through the open back door of what, by the artifacts left in its remains, had probably been the kitchen. A wizened old hare, her cheeks drooping into jowls, was scowling at the intruder from the other side of the tavern. "Don' you go pokin' 'round in there none," she warned, gesturing with a cane while her other arm clutched a basket of fresh-picked greens to her side, either soon to market or recently there-of. "We don' want any more a' y'all's trouble, an' th' last a' ya didn' leave nothin' more 'an two coppers t' rub t'gether. So, you jus' get back on yer ship an' leave us folks alone, ay? No need t' go stirrin' up ghosts." She spoke with the ferocity and conviction of a beast who had lived long enough to crave a final hurrah, and apparently calling out a suspected pirate was that for her.

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Ragged ears perked at the sharp accusation, turning to regard the old hare with bemusement. Upon recognising her ornery spirit she decided she rather liked the cantankerous beast’s attitude, at least until the inference that she was pirate registered. Of all creatures a woodlander would have more right than most to assume, though still it rankled. Years of bloody service and for what, to be seen as a corsair? Briefly Tanya considered fishing out an old medal of her office (wherever she’d put it on her person amongst the other objects in her pockets and pouches), but battered and tarnished as it now was she supposed it could easily be mistaken for stolen. One day she would learn to dress better.

“Not ghosts I’m after, ma’am,” Tanya replied with strained politeness, “and it ain’t trouble I’m after, either. I’m lookin’ for a young vixen who used to work here be’ind the bar by the name of Mina Rose.” Still it sounded clunky on her tongue. “Word was that she was here when that rabble struck and I intend t’ find her. If you've heard anything of what’s become of her, I'd be much obliged.”

 

[Mina Rose Brewer]

"Hmph." The old hare's descending tone was perhaps one of surprise or bemusement. "The Brewer girl? Didn' think there was anyone left wot cared fer 'er, no' anymore. All thems' bones been washed out by th' tide by now. Alrigh', come 'is way, I'll show ye to 'er. Don' go expectin' much a 'er though; girl ain' hardly spoke more 'n two words since th' fire. Don' know if ye kin get more outta 'er."

She started in the direction that Captain Dawson had indicated as leading to the village, her steps easy enough to keep up with in light of her advanced age. "'Pologies fer th' assumption," she allowed as they walked. "Mos' a' th' vermin we get 'round 'ere are one bad trip away from goin' pirate, y' kin jus' see it in 'eir eyes. Nah 'at I'm prejudiced naw," she added, her tone strident. "Ain' nothin' against 'em, got some gooduns like 'em Brewers, even if 'ey were never the brightes' bunch. Salt a' th' earth folk 'ey were, dimmer 'n a vole's third eye. Tha' Brewer girl, allus runnin' abou' wiv' th' smith's lad, sneakin' off like e'eryone an 'eir pa don' know 'ey were outta 'eir clothes more of'n 'n a kit runnin' from bath day." She sighed, adding, "Course, 'at gottim killed. Shame, 'at. Good lad, Geremy. Stupid, bu' good. Was lookin' forward t' seein' 'im an' th' Brewer girl 'avin' a buncha dumb-as-rocks kits one day."

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Tanya dipped her head in deferential gratitude (a gesture quite foreign, though necessary) and fell in step with the old hare in silence as she digested the information. If anything the older beast's commentary on vermin drew a snort of dry amusement from the vixen: in her youth she had partaken in the sanctioned raids on coastal villages. Her morals had never been particularly fixed, and she could not fault the stranger her prejudice all considered. The Imperium might well have moved on for the better insofar as relations with woodlanders but it was a freshly healed wound the older generations may well never heal from.

Another amused grunt escaped her at the mention of her niece's proclivity for carnal amusements - like mother like daughter - but anxious eyes continued to dart over the sands and ashes, taking in the signs and scale of destruction wreaked on the settlement. By all accounts Dusk's anxieties had been understated and the event had left its indelible mark on the young vixen. Taking her someplace new for a fresh start might well aid in her recovery, though the fact it was Bully Harbour she would be headed to...

No. It had helped her, in its roundabout way. It could help Mina Rose.

"The poor girl," Tanya sighed, keeping step with the hare. "And where was the Navy during all of this? I would have thought the Keys were reasonably well-defended. 'Least they were back in the day. Have they come to help with the recovery, at least?"

 

[Mina Rose Brewer]

The hare let out a snort that was entirely unbecoming. "Th' navy? 'Ey only show when 'ey want some shore leave, an' even then, 'ey mostly stick ta the bigger islands. We 'ad one schooner by 'ere a week ago, promised 'ey'd pass on a message t' Bully, but 'ey were headin' outbound an' couldn' turnabout t' deliver it 'emselves. Ain' much secret 'at th' navy 'as been lax e'er since th' 'Ome Rule agreement was signed. Some say' ey're punishin' us fer institutin' our own council - nah 'at 'ey do anythin' anyway. Useless, th' lot a' 'em. Ah, 'ere we are."

The village had been hit in the raid, but had fared far better than the inn - mainly, it seemed, because there was less to take. Already the locals had begun the work of rebuilding, fresh palm fronds woven together on the roofs and trees cut into long, thin strips to patch the holes in the walls. The hare led Tanya to one of the huts, one far more singed and perforated than the rest. "Family wot lived 'ere shipped ou' after th' attack, 'eadin' fer Merith Cove, so we stuck 'er in 'ere. Summon comes by once a day, makes 'er eat, takes 'er outside an' dumps water on 'er if she's gettin' too rank." She knocked at the frame of the demolished door, peeking inside. "Oi! Lass! Gotta vis'ter fer ya." She waited a moment in silence, then pulled back her head, shaking it. "All yers. Good luck."

The furniture in the room had mostly been smashed, the table and chairs suffering the worst of it, but the bed, while lopsided, seemed to suffice for the vixen who lay atop it on her side, knees curled in toward her chest atop the mess of sheets that had slowly become a mess across prolonged use, stained from long, uninterrupted hours spent sweating in silence in the Tookumberry heat. She was wearing a mussed and rumpled goldenrod dress that, surprisingly, didn't clash with her fur color, and her headfur, while an unkempt mess at the moment hanging limply around her face, had clearly been neatly maintained until recently. Beautiful seafoam green eyes stared dully at a small piece of metal on the pillow beside her: two pieces of hammered iron fitted together, apparently a cabinet latch disengaged from its purpose. Mina Rose's pawfinger was slowly fiddling with it, a small click echoing each time she let go and gravity brought it back down. Her gaze briefly slid to Tanya, pupils contracting in a way that seemed to be sizing the elder vixen up, before she turned her attention back to fidgeting with the latch again.

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Were the matter not so pressing Tanya would have given her other ear to sit with his hare for an hour or two. At her age she would have witnessed and formed opinions on the Navy from before her own tenure as a deckswab: to get an outsider’s view from offshore over such a long period of time – from a woodlander, no less – would have been fascinating. It was easy enough to gauge opinion from the busy ports and settlements, but here was where the true measure could be found in fleeting visits and offshore celebrations.

For now her ear would have to remain intact, for Mina Rose was the priority. As relieved as she was to know the youngster was alive, she did not sound entirely well; it was no surprise given the circumstances though Tanya was in some small way grateful that her niece had not taken to the bottle as a means to soothe the pain.

The breath caught in Tanya’s chest upon seeing Mina in the flesh and fur, a moment’s vulnerability which might have been read as response to the state of her current living as opposed to her general appearance. She looked so much like Kinza. Like Dusk. Like herself at that age. Green eyes briefly settled on the small latch, recalling the mention of the smith’s lad.

Maternal instincts took over and Tox moved to kneel beside the bed. “Mina Rose,” she breathed, trying now to divorce the name from the pain of one niece and allow it to inhabit hope in another. “’Ello me beauty. Now then, I’ve been hearing word that you’ve been sittin’ here on your tail ever since those pirates came and turned your life upside down. Strikes me that these same days are going to keep on passing you by one after the other regardless of whether you sit here starin’ at the wall or get up and do something else with the time. Don’t much matter how you fill it, so why don’t you indulge an old fox and fill it with something a little more interesting than sand for an hour or two?” She nodded to the doorway. “I’d like a walk and a talk, if you feel up to it."

 

[Mina Rose Brewer]

Mina's gaze shifted again to Tox, studying the older vixen's face as she paused in fidgeting the latch. The intensity of that focus spoke a lie into the hare's words; Mina Rose's demeanor, at least in a guarded moment, didn't seem particularly foolish or stupid. She might not be a learned scholar, but she was far from the simpleton that at least one of the residents of Tookumberry had taken her for.

The vixen's eyes focused on Tanya, tracing over every line and every scar on her face, before she spoke quietly. "D' I know ya?" Her accent was pure Tookumberry through and through; Dusk's neat received pronunciation, it seemed, had been entirely expunged in favor of the local dialect. She examined th' former admiral and minister with a brashness that, unknown to her, was far more similar to her cousin and namesake than she realized. "Y' look kinda like Ma," she continued, "bu' she weren' 'alf as cut up as ya." Her gaze turned distant again, and she started fiddling with the lock once more. "She's gone," she said, her voice listless again. "E'ry time I think abou' gettin' up, I remember she's gone, Pa's gone, Geremy's gone... E'n e'ry fo'gilder I saved in m' life is gone."

Her gaze slid to Tanya again, that same curiosity apparent. "'Oo e'n are ya? Ma ne'er said nothin' 'bou' any fam'ly."

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

It was almost uncanny, that little spark in her so much like her namesake. The older vixen had to bite her tongue before the thought could be thrown to her mouth; had to divert her attention before the thought could bring tears to her eyes. It would not be fair to put her niece’s legend on the shoulders of this youngster: Mina Rose was her own fox and she needed to remind herself as much.

At the very least she consoled herself with the fact that the little bit of fire in her was a good sign and she had not completely shut down: with a bit of encouragement Mina Rose would make it through. Her lips quirked in a small, almost sad, smile. “You don’t know me, no,” Tanya explained, “but you’ve got a good eye. My name’s Tanya, though me few friends left call me Tox. Your mama might not have spoken about it and I wager with good reason, but it seems to me that here and now’s the time for some answers.” As many as I can give you, anyway.

Reaching out, she patted the edge of the bed as she rose back to her footpaws. “Oof, I’m gettin’ old. Now they might be gone, but you, love, are still here. And you’ve got a chance to do somethin’ with that fact. How about you get yourself freshened up and we go on that walk so’s I can fill you in on everything? You can start with telling me what you know about your family here on the Keys in the meantime.”

 

[Mina Rose Brewer]

It seemed a great effort not of body but of will for Mina Rose to sit up. She winced as she did so, rubbing at where several bedsores seemed to have accumulated. "Ma an' pa ne'er talked much 'bou' fam'ly," she called as she moved to the battered cabinet in the room, on which rested a pitcher of stagnant water, a large clay bowl, and a rag for washing with. A fresh dress had been set out seemingly some days past, a bit threadbare and clearly hand-me-down, but a pleasant pastel green nonetheless. Mina Rose stripped without a care for modesty, pouring a measure of water before soaking the rag and scrubbing beneath her arms, where the worst of the sweat had accumulated. "Near as I know, 'ey weren' in touch wiv' any a' 'em. I asked once why I don' got any cousins, an' 'ey said neither of 'em 'ad siblin's t' give me cousins."

After washing the areas most desperately in need of cleaning, Mina Rose pulled on the secondhand dress and smoothed down the creases from the fold as best she could. "Don' know much more 'n 'at," she admitted. "I know I was born 'ere in th' Red Parrot Inn, 'fore Pa renamed it after some ol' admiral. Ain' ne'er been off th' island once. Though' abou' travelin' th' worl' though. Was saving up ferrit afore..." Her voice faltered, and she paused in lacing up her bodice, seemingly frozen in the memory. Her paws fell away from the laces as reverie took her, tears coming to her eyes again. "I know weren' nothin' I coulda done fer Ma an' Pa," she recalled. "If I 'adn' fallen asleep on th' beach, I'da burned wiv' em. Bu' Geremy, mah todd... 'e didn' need ta die. I led 'im to it. If I'd pushed 'im away, told 'im no, 'e'd be alive righ' now."

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Nodding her understanding, Tanya occupied herself during Mina Rose’s ablutions with inspecting what ramshackle remains existed of the little structure. Lack of dress was of little concern to the vixen, even less so since Kutorokan living, but still she deserved some level of privacy. Her gaze lingered on singed materials and holes in walls. It was going to be some change, making the jump to Harbour living. Perhaps it would be advantageous to put her in touch with Kinza to look out for her: her daughter had plenty to learn herself, but at the very least they could support one another.

Some ol’ Admiral. Tanya’s lips quirked into a smirk, though the feeling was fleeting at best. When Mina Rose’s tale took a turn and her voice faltered as the ruminations began to settle in, Tanya turned back to catch the look on the youngster’s face. The poor thing.

“An’ if any of us could see the future we’d no doubt miss out on most of what makes life worth the livin’ for fear of it.” Crossing the room, her scarred paws took Mina Rose’s gently, green eyes seeking hers. “You had no way of knowing what was about to happen. This weren’t anything you’ve done, young’un, and tellin’ yourself you should have some’ow known will only drive you mad. If you trust me on nothin’ else I have to say today, know this: if your Geremy loved you, I wager he’d have walked in there time an’ again to see you safe and never once said it were your fault for his choosin’ to do so. He didn’t need to die an’ neither did your parents, ‘twas cruel fate and poor fortune took them. You, though, are alive. I’ve some explaining to do first, but if travel was on your mind, per’aps the way forward for you now is to go live that life in their honour. Be a terrible shame to waste away in ‘ere with the gift they gave you, eh?”

 

[Mina Rose Brewer]

Mina Rose's green eyes rose, her gaze meeting Tanya's. Her eyelids widened slightly at her words, her paws gripping the older vixen's at the affirmations born of experience. "Ya really mean 'at?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper. "Ya mean... I can ackcha'ly go wiv' ya? Leave 'ere?" She considered the offer carefully before tilting her head, quizzicality mixing with a degree of suspicion. "'Oo are ya?" she asked, repeating her question from earlier. "Why'd ya e'en care wot 'appens ta me?"

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

“You’re askin’ the right questions.” Curiosity seemed evident in the youngster’s face, wary though she was rightful to be. Good: as far as Tanya was concerned this was far better than she had hoped for upon seeing the shut-down shell of a fox on arrival. Now she’d captured her interest it might prove all the easier to get her back to Bully.

Considering what she would be keeping from Mina Rose, offering as much honesty as she could felt prudent. A cynical part of her knew that truths would make the lie all the easier to swallow but in this she was genuine: she wanted her niece to know what she could. “You aren’t wrong: I’m a bit reserved when it comes to who I give my care to. Had to, back in the days when I went by Admiral Tanya Rainblade. Saved it for my family, and, well…turns out I’ve come to learn of late that you’re my niece. Soon’s I heard of the attack, I came to see how you were.”

It was already a weighty revelation to put on young shoulders, likely to shake much of what Mina Rose knew or had believed as a truth. Best to let her take point. “Now, if you want to get some answers, I think you and I had better take that walk so’s you can ask me.”

 

[Mina Rose Brewer]

Mina Rose's eyes widened at the revelation of the older vixen's name, but she kept quiet, listening and considering the information provided. She nodded mutely at the pressing toward a walk, and joined Tanya in strolling out the hut.

The beaches in Tookumberry were gorgeous, and while not quite as picturesque as the more touristy islands, those on Admiral Island still had their charms, the soft white sand smooth as silt under footpaw. Mina Rose walked in quiet contemplation, her eyes shifting slightly as she considered everything she'd been told. "I don' ge'it," she admitted at last. "Ma an' Pa ne'er mentioned ya e'en existin', bu' 'ey renamed 'eir tavern after ya. It don' make much sense as I can see. An' how'd ya e'en hear abou' me? Don' reckon 'ere were many 'oo cared enough ta go talkin' abou' me."

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Moving made the conversation easier. Between the sensory experience of walking the beach and the lack of eye contact distraction afforded, Tanya found it all the easier to organise her thoughts. This poor girl had been through so much and she was about to drop more on her: time to see how she would take it. Any eventuality, she supposed, would make sense. Personally, she knew hers would be anger. Couldn't fault Mina Rose if she felt the same.

“Ah, well that’s where you’d be mistaken,” Tox explained. “I got word from my sister, your other aunt, who happens to be very well connected these days. See, I’ve been away for quite some time myself.” She tilted her head, flashing Mina Rose a grin. “‘Fact I’ve been outside of Imperial waters longer’n you’ve been alive, so this was as much a surprise for me when the news came to check on you. Nice surprise, though.” Name aside.

Green eyes sought the horizon for a few long moments, revelling in the beauty and peace of a scene she was about to shatter. Eventually she looked back to the young fox: in spite of herself it felt wrong to look away for this. “As for the reason why she kept an eye on you all this time…well. Your ma an’ pa were your parents, and I want you to hold that dear as anything, but neither were those by blood. A siblin' of ours had you and couldn't keep you, and your parents were lookin' for a kit of their own.”

 

[Mina Rose Brewer]

Mina Rose had stopped stock-still at the revelation, her face frozen in shock, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. She was speechless for a few moments, and it briefly seemed like she might lapse back into a grieving, comatose state, but she finally managed to speak. "So, I... I ain' a Brewer?" She seemed to be struggling with the implications of what she was hearing. Her paws came together, fiddling once more with the small iron latch to at least give her paws something to do. Her gaze shifted, looking over Tanya's shoulder into the distance as her entire world reoriented itself. "I dunno wha' ta feel," she admitted, her voice still weak as she came out of the shock. "I don'... 'Oo e'en am I? 'Oo were my... my real ma, my real pa? Is my name e'en Mina Rose?" Tears were starting to rise to the surface as the girl struggled to cope with the last vestiges of her identity being stripped away.

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Much though instinct begged Tanya to sweep the girl into an embrace and offer quiet reassurances, try and reassure her that things would all be well, she made no move to do such. Her own gaze turned back to the ocean, giving Mina Rose the space to absorb the bombshell which had just been dropped on her life.

“Your name is Mina Rose and you were raised a Brewer, so far as I’m concerned a Brewer you are,” Tanya replied. “As long as that’s what you want to be. You just happen to also be more’n that. Same with your ma an’ pa: they raised you so they was your real parents. Those who made you, though, were related to me. Just because there’s a new life waitin’ for you back in the Harbour doesn’t mean you give up the who you are here: ‘fact, if anythin’, I’d hold it dear. Makes you unique.”

At last she looked back to the younger fox, hating herself for the veiled lies and evasive answers she was giving to avoid committing to such. Damn duty. Damn Dusk. Damn the Ryalor house. “You was born after I left so I can’t say as I know both your parents, but one was a sibling of mine an’ dear to me, but also gone, now. I ain’t about to say it’s a grand life you’d be heading out to, with me and your other aunt, but it’s a sight better’n wastin’ away in a hut here. You’d have us, as well as my husband and our own kits a few years older’n you for company to help you settle in.”

 

[Mina Rose Brewer]

Mina Rose fiddled sigh the small scrap of metal, worrying her lip between her teeth as she considered the paths before her. It really wasn't much of a choice; it was really a decision between existence and nonexistence. She'd given a lot of thought to that since her home burned down, and despite the allure of the latter, at the end of the day, she always found herself sticking with the former.

"Alrigh'," Mina Rose allowed, looking to her aunt (it felt strange to think of this scrappy vixen in such terms, but strangeness had become her life) in curiosity tempered by trepidation. "So, say I go wiv' ya. Where are we goin'? Fer all I said o' goin' travelin', I ain' much good wiv' languages. Couple a' sailors offered t' teach me th' Alkamarian tongue, bu' Ma ne'er let me take 'eir lessons." She couldn't quite keep the corner of her mouth from rising at the joke.

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

“Your ma’s a wise fox” Tanya laughed, tailbrush curling slightly. Amusement was evident in her countenance, though something fierce flickered just beneath: protective wrath. Whilst she was keen not to impinge on the youngster’s freedoms once let loose on the city there existed more than enough evidence within the family to cement a reputation for relational dramatics. At the very least the poor girl deserved to settle in before worrying about that. “You’d do wise to keep ‘er lessons in your head going forward. Plenty of beasts take those raised in places like this for fools: prove ‘em you’re cleverer than they expect.”

Sunlight glittered on the waves in her peripheral vision. It seemed almost a shame to pull her from such beauty to the Harbour itself, but aesthetic beauty was just that. At the very least she’d have purpose and opportunities. “As for where we’d be going, that would be Bully Harbour itself. All sorts of languages get spoken there if you’ve a mind for learnin’ another seriously, but Vulpinsulan is just fine. What do you make of that?”