Open The Trenches Trembling Treble

Pomodu had turned her head to glare threads of death worthy of one of the epic retellings of Bully Harbor history she so favored, but at Berchar's suggestion she looked down to Whisper instead. "Maybe i'su righ't," she admitted. "Dey ah no goo'd bea'su'tu he're. Maybe we go to bettuh pulace."
 
Whisper nodded shyly at the other's proposal. They were right and little fox felt like with their help, they could manage this no problem. After getting steady on their paws, Whisper slowly padded towards the exit. Only to be stopped by the owner who still stood there firmly. "As I've said. Not one beast is leaving before I get t'know who caused this and pays for me scene!" The owner said, albeit not very harshly. She didn't seem to be thinking of Whisper or the two of their new friends as a problem. But she was hellbent on getting the justice.

Whisper quivered upon the gaze of the barmaid which made her look away and sigh.
"I know it ain't ya or yer friends kit. Jus' stay put or help me finda idiot who diddit." She explained before taking in more aggressive posturing again.
 
Relief and gratitude flooded Berchar’s countenance when the red panda agreed; in truth even if they stayed he was convinced that the unease would only continue to mount. The little group seemed up for a fight, and in his experience, beasts seeking conflict normally found it one way or another.

Hopping after the duo, he was absorbed in pondering their next possible location, rattling through his knowledge of more reputable establishments so much so that he almost bumped into the back of Whisper. Quickly smoothing down his shirt, there was no stopping the muttered comment. “Oh, I could think of one or two at the far table.”
 
Pomodu stopped, confused as the trio were not permitted to leave. "We no go?" she asked, perplexed. "Bu't why? I'su dey be mea'n." She pointed at the group of bullies across the room, seemingly oblivious that she was the largest and most visible beast in the room.
 
The Vixen sighed, but before she could explain, some other patrons tried to leave in rather aggressive manner and she had to focus on them. It didn't took long till paws were flying and that barmaid proved to be surprisingly... good at sending someone to the floor with a well-placed kick.

Whisper yelped at the show, deep inside thanking the fate they were not one to experience that kick. There was something strangely leporine to it, but Whisper couldn't focus on it much more. Instead they have turned to the two exotic friends of theirs.

"Y-yes." Whisper confirmed Red Panda's words. "We... We are b-being s-sss-stopped. I-if not o-one beast gets out e-easily, all patrons.... t-they will get mad. S-so there a-an inc~ incent... incentive to f-find the guilty o-ones." They explained the best they could. It wasn't truly a fair system but one that worked. Whisper was themselves subjected to whenever they or any of their siblings did something horrible and not one of the wanted to admit it. Granted, Whisper was rarely at fault, but their Father made sure that punishment reached all to let his kits figure it out themselves.
 
For his part, the passive Berchar was feeling indignation begin to bubble yet again: if the vixen knew they weren't trouble, why demand they be held accountable? After all she had been paid well above a performer's expectation - and more than enough to cover repairs- by the red panda, and Whisper had provided a beautiful, if brief, set. He was glad that Whisper provided an explanation for his own would have been more acerbic.

Still, the diminutive jerboa was bound to have his say. "I think we can safely assume who the perpetrators are," he replied, jerking his head towards the table in question. "They'd been hassling this poor fox since the moment they set paw in your establishment: does it not stand to reason to begin with them?"
 
Pomodu, for her part, seemed to be growing from perplexed to annoyed. "How mu'ch?" she inquired of the tavern mistress. "Foh fi'x di suta'ge, how mu'ch?" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few golden hundred-gilder coins, pawing through them.
 
Whisper looked at the barmaid with their big, sad eyes. She however was adamant, even when looking at the giant and the riches she was offering, then giving a sigh and shaking her head. "You've already paid more than 'nough." Vixen spoke in lowered, honest voice. "But if I let ya out, I should jus' let anyone who pays out. That ain't fair for them poor folk and ain't any justice. And if anything, I just wanna make sure folk can see that breakin' ma scene isn't somethin' that I can left unpunished. I would go to interrogate but I need t'keep them doors now. Ye wanna leave? I need a proof that someone," She threw a glance at the bullies who were whispering something among each other. "did that so I can sent clear message. In other words, help me make sure this sorta thing won't happen again in this place. Beasts aren't reformable but they can be afraid of consequences." She finished her explanation before another angry patron came in, starting to yell something about being late. Yet the barmaid was like a wall.

Whisper didn't want to actively take part in such procedure, but they could see how their new friends were growing uneasy. They also wanted it to be over but they didn't want to ire the barmaid who seemed to be actually have good intentions. Whisper thus spoke meekly. "M-maybe we sh-should f-find the nails?" They proposed as they were for sure not ready to actually try to speak with those who bullied her any time soon.
 
Very nearly tugging his ears with frustration, the jerboa squeaked irritably. "Madam, this poor fox has been through enough: you cannot be expecting them to go and confront those louts?!" never mind myself: I'm not going near them. He patted Whisper's arm. "You shouldn't have to find the nails. Let us examine the facts: you walked in and were ridiculed by those beasts at the table. When this kind creature here," he gestured to Pomodu, "was generous enough to help, they were still displeased." He looked back to the vixen. "Your scene then breaks mid-performance. You know full well it could only be them. This is indeed your fine establishment, so are you not in authority to kick them out?"

He realised after his outburst that he was sounding increasingly agitated. Taking a quick breath, fearful now of the vixen's ire, he shuffled a pace closer to the red panda. "I mean - honestly you have things well handled with such matters. Myself and this musician, we...well, we aren't exactly built for the task, and I would hate to force that upon our new friend alone..."
 
Pomodu sighed, seeing that they weren't easily getting out of this. She could go over, grab one of the offending beasts, flip them upside down and shake them until the nails fell out... but then again, that might not make her many friends. Instead she reached into a pocket and pulled out a large golden hundred-gilder coin, trying not to think about how much lighter her pockets felt now than when she arrived in the Harbor. "I gi've foh di nai'lusu," she told the room loudly. "No que'su'ta'n."
 
Whisper gazed upon the coin. That was... unspeakable wealth. Even for them, someone who came from rather well-off house, it wasn't money that would be lightly thrown around. Especially not to be given away to someone who brought harm.

But the coin had vastly different effect. Whisper tend to forget that beasts would try to turn back entire rivers for much less. The Vixen tried to answer, but before managing even a word, entire locum fell into disarray. Overwhelming amount of the patrons inside threw themselves at the bullies, or one another. All arguing, tugging, and more or less violently trying to either find or force someone to give up the nails. With each passing second, it was getting closer and closer to a proper bar fight. Something that displeased the Vixen to the point where she was almost fuming.

"Now. I definitely want you to stay." She spoke through clenched teeth before moving into the crowd. "STOP FIGHTIN'! I AIN'T GONNA REPEAT MESELF!" She only yelled once. Seeing as it did exactly nothing. She moved firmly to the most violent troublemakers. Surprisingly easy, considering her posture, managing to to down them with nothing but powerful, measured kicks. Whisper just turned around. Too scared to see actual violence happening.

The vixen took down four patrons before the rest, rightly so, decided to stop their greed-powered scrambling.
"NOW, YOU." She turned to the bullies who bunched up together. "I WANT MY DARN NAILS AND SCENE BACK. THEN I'LL NEVER BE SEEING YE BACK." The vixen wasn't nice anymore. Seemingly given up on trying to be just. Now only seeking to resolve this matter.

And while the bullies themselves, intimidated aplenty, scrambled to define which one of them is causing problems, Whisper was busy trying to not break into tears again. Failing at that task miserably. It was all their fault. If they never came to this place, nothing like that would happen. Worst thing was that Whisper ended up here by accident. So their presence alone caused this whole scene. That made them break apart.
 
Oh no. The entire tableaux continued to grow in chaos. Berchar stared slack-jawed for a moment at the red panda's abundance of money, but before he could voice his concern for her generosity the patrons had taken note likewise. As the brawl escalated the jerboa could only watch in horror bordering on fascination as the vixen waded in to dispense her own brand of justice. He was thankful that her ire hadn't fallen on him for his own firm words.

It was only his proximity which enabled Berchar to hear the onset of sobs beneath the racket of the combat. At once his heart went out to the poor thing, feeling a pang from a memory best buried. It would be all too easy to take his leave and slip out unnoticed, but for once he felt committed to the situation. That and, admittedly, he was rather hoping they were going his way anyway.

There was little time to comfort Whisper, so he focused on haste. "Keep your money," Berchar murmured to the red panda, digging through his own pockets. Finding a scrap of parchment, he folded it into a rough approximation of an envelope and dropped in the money he'd made from the paperwork earlier. This he flicked (rather clumsily) over the bar: some small compensation for the vixen, should she even find it later.

This done he placed one paw on the fox's back, the other tugging at Pomudu's bushy tail. "We-- we really should get going, quite quickly."
 
Pomodu watched the escalation in confusion, shocked at how readily the Vulpinsulans broke out into violence for a mere hundred gilders. It didn't even occur to Pomodu that what she considered 'pocket change' was more than a month's wages to most of these beasts. "You righ't," she allowed Berchar, quietly reaching past the bar and dropping the golden coin behind the bar to be found later. "We go," she suggested to Whisper. "No i'su ouh figh't."
 
Whisper barely had managed to force themselves into acting, slowly trying to leave with the two as the situation in the bar itself started getting more and more tense. Albeit the vixen was definitely fearlessly managing it, Whisper was feeling like this whole disaster was caused by their existence alone. At least Whisper allowed themselves to be led out, gently pushed and tugged by Pomodu and Berchar alike.

But even outside, Whisper looked horrific. Trebmling, sobbing, fur wet with tears, barely walking and just staring into the ground. Worst of it all, Whisper hated themselves. Hated the fact they are so easy to bully, so helpless and bringing problems to others around who pity them. Such was their life ever since Whisper was born and it stung horribly to still deal with it.
 
“N-no, don’t-” Pomodu had acted before he could finish, adding her money to his. Oh he could have cried; he’d tried so hard to tell her to keep it and now he’d lost his own too. Resisting the urge to tug at his whiskers and perform a little hopskip of frustration, the jerboa was all too happy to be done with this place and find a new venue.

Jostling and hastening their exit as best he could, the cooler air came as welcome reprieve from the warmth of anxiety which had been blossoming inside the tavern. Inhaling briefly to calm himself, he looked gratefully to the large red beast and considered asking her a few questions when the sight of the fox caused his expression to drop. They looked…well, they looked like he remembered himself for so long. A far cry, perhaps, from that one incident on the battlefield but all the days after, the journey to get to this city…his heart went out to the poor beast. This was a dangerous place for a sensitive soul.

“Oh, dear- it’s alright,” he reassured the fox, “you’re alright. It’s done now, take a few deep breaths. I’m sure we can find somewhere much quieter – and my are you talented!” He looked back up to Pomodu. “Why, we were really enjoying your performance you know, weren’t we?”
 
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