Expedition Introduction Side Adventure The Urk Expedition: Apple Crates don't Snore...

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn wouldn't have admitted it, but he felt like a different beast after the bath. It'd been a long time since he'd been able to take care of himself like this. If he wasn't so scrawny, he'd look like a normal kit again.

Finn accepted the towel, and crawled into it in the most dignified way he could muster. He suppressed the urge to shake off, and burrowed under the towel to scruffle his head and torso dry.

Scruffle scruffle scruffle. POOF.

"Aide-de-Campe? I've never heard of that rank before..." Finn said, wrapping the towel around his waist carefully, and hopping up to sit on one of the operating tables.

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

"Think of it like a junior officer position, then." Silvertongue suggested. He was digging around in the shelves of the infirmary, looking for something in particular. "Ugh... these might end up being a bit big on you, but we'll have to make do." He turned around and handed Finnian a set of clothes.

"I'm going to step outside. When you're ready, feel free to join me, and after the doctor checks you over, we'll see the Captain to get that paperwork done."

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn accepted the small parcel of clothes, and held out the tunic to check it's size. It wasn't entirely the size of a smock on him, but it was close.

Meanwhile, Mr. Barrett perceived that the bath had concluded, and loomed ominously by the entryway to the infirmary, flicking a thermometer. Finn recoiled away instinctively, and shot a pleading look to Silvie. Save me!

"Gates, kit, 'm not gonna hurt you. It's a thermometer. Just stick it under your tongue a minute," grumbled the pine martin, lumbering over to Finn. The kit hid behind the tunic, and kept his muzzle firmly shut as if the thermometer were a spoonful of bitter medicine.

Mr. Barrett chuckled at this, and caught Finn by his scruff. "Trust me, pup, this is definitely the easy way to do this! Open..." he said, prodding the thermometer at Finn's muzzle. Reluctantly, the fox opened his mouth, and took the thermometer under his tongue.

Finn hated the pine martin for this. He would pay for this indignity, eventually! Finn would have his REVENGE.

 

[Vihmastaja]

(From page 3.)

Vihma let the ferret wrap her arm around her, though she looked aside uncomfortably as she spoke – as Morgan layered on praise for her, as thick as the ferret’s own evident contempt for herself.

“Neh, it ain’t that, mate. It ain’t that I’m trustin’ ‘im. Gates, ‘e near about got ye killed before we left the harbour.”

Pulling the ferret aside, grasping the stronger beast’s other paw to bring them close, she finally looked Morgan in the eye, looking for understanding as she tried to explain herself. Trying to hold nothing back – but afraid to say too much, to drive her away in her desperation.

“I’m worried about ye, Morgan. I-I can’t ‘elp it. Yeh’re always so bloody willin’ t’ run ‘eadlong int’ things. Even fer this... this kit ye barely met. Gates, ye were gonna lie for him! To the Minister ‘imself!”

Vihma’s eyes searched Morgan’s features for some sense of recognition, her own expression suddenly painted with shock – and some hurt beneath the fear.

“Don’t get me wrong, mate – I’m partial to it. Back in the harbour, that time ye ran out to help me, though ye didn’t even know me…”

The weasel looked aside again, ashamed for the moment.

“I had to go to the captain, y’see? Had to! Didn’t matter what came of it, what ‘appened t’ that kit – bless ‘is small heart – long as it didn’t get ye in trouble wit’ ‘im again. I don’t want to lose ye, Morgan. I… I care about ye… I don’t wanna go to Bezine and Eirine and… and have t’ explain why ye didn’t come back with me! Pale rat or neh, yer the only thing ‘olding us all together… Can’t ye see that, mate?”

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan's eyes widened as Vihma pulled her aside and spoke truths that, Morgan had to admit, she'd been avoiding. She'd been brash, not just now, but all her life; she'd always run toward danger, not away from it, no matter the cost. She'd throw herself in front of a badger for a stranger, but never stop to consider the cost to herself or those around her. No wonder her parents despaired and worried for her so often. And now, it seemed, she'd put Vihma in that same position.

Morgan hugged Vihma. It was a sudden motion, stepping forward and pulling the weasel into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry Vim," she breathed. 'Gates, that was such a new sentiment for her. She didn't really do apologies; then again, she'd never really met anyone who she thought deserved one*. "I wasn't thinkin', honest. Doesn't make it alrigh', though. In my moments where I'm usin' my head, I don't wanna lose yeh neither, nor make yeh lose me."

She pulled back, smiling at Vihma as she rested her paws on the weasel's shoulders. "Fer what it's worth," she remarked, "yer a beast worth fightin' for. I'd take a dozen more slugs t' the face if it'd keep 'em from yours. Maybe what I need to learn, though, is when t' back down an' not get into a fight in the firs' place." She chuckled as she added, "I think Mum an' Mother are hopin' yeh'll rub off on me, teach me some tact an' when t' shut my big mouth. Who knows? Yeh migh' actually succeed where they failed."

*Greeneye and Silvertongue excepted; they had been through enough in life that Morgan was sure they were owed a great many more apologies from the universe as part of some karmic balance.

 

[Vihmastaja]

Any frustration she still felt melted away as the ferret drew her into a hug. It was impossible for the weasel to be upset with her after something like that, and after the moment's surprise, she drew in to hug her back.

Vihma even managed a laugh, smiling weakly back at Morgan as she felt her pull away.

"Y-ye don't 'ave t'be sorry, mate. Just... safer".

Trying to lighten her own mood, she pushed at the ferret's shoulder, playfully, not quite enough to force Morgan's paws off her own.

"Aye, maybe. But jus' 'cause I've got a pretty face 'n a lot more tact, doesn't mean I'm invincible either, an' I've got t' follow ye int' all the fights ye wander into, besides my own. So, I'm 'oping for both our sake that ye learn t' play it safe, afore ye do get yer Mums' favorite daughter killed, 'n than you'll have t'do all the explainin' to 'em, not me."

She shot Morgan a bit of a look, just to be sure she knew she was joking.

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan nodded, picking up on the joke in the warning, but also the seriousness of the emotion behind it. Morgan had always gone into every fight with the presumption that she was endangering no one but herself. That wasn't the case anymore, though. She had Vihma to look after, and maybe now Finn as well. Plus there was Silvertongue and Greeneye, and... well, really, a list of beasts that was growing surprisingly long, all of whose wellbeing mattered to her.

"Don' worry," Morgan promised. "I won' go rushin' in an' draggin' yeh after me, alrigh'? 'Gates, I'll even learn 'ow t' figh' wiv' me words, ra'er 'n my fists." She moved to rest her arm back around Vihma's shoulder so the pair could walk side by side back to the infirmary. "It is funny, though," she commented. "It feels like we're speed-runnin' all the experiences we woulda got if we'd been raised t'gether. Shared bath time, gettin' in trouble t'gether, keepin' secrets... 'Gates, makes me wish I'd 'ad ya as a sister, Vim."

The pair arrived shortly in the infirmary, where a freshly bathed and clothed Finn was getting a medical checkup. Morgan chuckled as she saw the kit's reluctance. "So, Mr. Barrett," she inquired playfully, "is he gonna live?"

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn sulked on the operating table, and pulled the tunic over his head -- being careful to keep the thermometer under his tongue.

As Morgan and Vim barged into the room, they'd find a much different looking kit. Scrubbed clean, his fur combed, and smelling... floral. Unable to say anything with the thermometer in his mouth, he tried to flick his ears back, mortified that he was caught in such a state. Unfortunately, Mr. Barrett had seized one of his ears, and peeled it back to look for ear mites.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be just fine..." grumbled the pine martin, not looking up from his task. He tilted one of the lanterns over, shining a bright light down on the kit's head. "I'm more concerned, however, about the little friends he brought along with him."

Satisfied with his findings, he tipped Finn's head up to look in his eyes, and then peeled his gums back to look at his teeth. The foxkit objected with a muffled grumble at this, but Barrett kept moving at a brisk pace. He produced a small ear horn to listen to Finn's breathing, before whisking the thermometer away to read it.

"He's malnourished, but doesn't seem to be wounded or sick..." he mused dryly. "Off you go, pup..." he said, nudging Finn off the table. Finn was only happy to comply, and skulked around the corner in his towel. Moments later, he came back around fully dressed, and fetched his knife from where he'd left it by the wash basin.

 

[Vihmastaja]

Vihma kept smiling, pleased enough with Morgan's promises. She faltered some towards the end, thinking on what they'd been through - indeed, what it had all meant for them, where they stood with each other.

By some small mercy, she didn't have time to think for long, finding Finn in the infirmary, being looked over by the ship's surgeon. Vihma hardly recognized the kit, clean as he was. Letting Morgan handle the questions, Vihma stood back by the entrance, leaning against the doorway while she waited for Finn to return in his new clothes.

She had to put a paw over her face to stop another laugh, despite herself, seeing the kit in Silvertongue's clothes. She'd seen worse fittings growing up in the harbour, of course. But thinking on how the kit had looked only a short time ago made it all a little more ridiculous.

"Well, kit," she started, still humored, but looking down at him with more than a little reservation for the tasks she'd been given.

"About the time ye showed us where else ye've been hiding, neh?"

The weasel didn't mean to come off roughly - but she'd not forgotten how horribly things had almost gone for her and her friends. None of this had been her choice, and though it had been the least bad outcome for all she could imagine, it didn't mean she had to like it.

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan grinned as she saw the clearly ruffled and grumpy kit. "Aww, see? He cleans up well." She chuckled as she added to Vihma's point, "Unless you wanna 'ave those fleas again in a few days, yeh'd best 'elp us hunt down anywhere 'ey could be hidin'. An'," she added, "if yeh do, I'll talk t' th' cook abou' rewardin' yeh wiv' maybe a baked sweet. I 'ear that Cook makes a great cinnamon roll."