Open The Bilge In The Bucket Under His Wing

"Why don't we ask these Fogey folks? They're like peacekeepers, or lawbeasts or whatnot, right? Seems like they'd know somethin." Chokra suggested. "Oh, an' maybe let's keep the whole 'pirate' issue between us. Wouldn't want ter cause a panic, now would we?" He winked at the two younger beasts.
 
Corda nodded at the instruction to keep mum about the pirate angle to this conundrum, though she did let some hesitation show on her face. "From what I've heard," she stated carefully, "the Fogeys can display a wide range of responses to requests for assistance, ranging from the helpful to the hostile, and the difference between the extremes is sufficient to bridge a canyon. Perhaps we could try a more reliable source - local musicians, perhaps? Your nephew is a musician, I believe you said, so perhaps those in the community would be aware of him."
 
A nod served as answer to the recommendation they keep piracy out of any conversations: he was jumpy enough without inviting more panic or questions, and even being reminded of his involvement in such matters made him distinctly uneasy. Oh, what had he gotten himself into?

Tapping one footpaw on the boards as he pondered, Berchar spoke again: it was a struggle to keep the anxious resignation from his tones, loath as he was to lose the security the foxes' presence afforded him. "All three seem reasonable beasts to ask: why don't we cover more ground and each try asking about to see what we can gather? We could cast a wider net all that - if that's the right nautical term." He managed a wan smile. "Haven't been on a ship in seasons, myself."
 
"Right, yew kids split up an' ask around. As fer me... the bartender and I have yet ter be acquainted." Chokra stretched. "Oooh, me bleedin' back. I'm too old fer this shite."

He plopped himself down on a stool and he waved the bartender over, ordering a drink almost immediately. For a beast who was so terribly concerned about finding his nephew, he seemed to be very relaxed at the moment.
 
Corda had to puzzle for a bit at Chokra's seeming nonchalance - but then, older beasts could be very temperamental at times, and their energy levels could fluctuate wildly. Maybe he just needed a breather and refresher before rejoining the hunt. She shook her head and went off toward the stage, hoping to catch the musicians between songs.
 
Chokra's lackadaisical approach caught Berchar's notice - and his concern - also, but the jerboa did not voice it. There was something prickling at his conscience, the beginnings of doubt, but what use would there be in arguing? The todd would very easily wipe the floor with him if he was to become aggrieved, and brief though his tenure had been in the army he knew better than to question an order, even if those giving them seemed...unusual in their approach.

His resignation settled for a moment, Berchar spent some time bobbing between tables, alternately being shooed away or stealing brief conversations in his attempt to wheedle some clues from anyone who might have seen something at the docks. As the minutes passed his mind continued to return to that uneasy feeling, each glance to the fox at the bar serving only to increase his curiosity.

Eventually the jerboa worked his way around closer to the stage area, catching Corda's eye in passing. He nodded to Chokra's back, voice kept low and casual. "Bit strange, wouldn't you say? Thought he was keen to be hasty."
 
Corda started at the jerboa's voice, briefly feeling guilty for her treasonous thoughts. She leaned in a little closer, trying to keep her voice down. "Older beasts can be strange sometimes," she remarked, trying to smother the feeling of unease at the pirate's sudden nonchalance and disinterest in their mission. "They can suddenly get tired and not want to do anything. It's... different."
 
Taking the opportunity to untie a rag from his long tail and wipe his paws (a habit both from his education and the sticky tables of the taverns), Berchar continued looking busy whilst he chatted. Red-brown eyes flicked on occasion to the todd's back, guaging the distance and volume of the room to ensure he wasn't being heard. He was in far too deep now.

"I don't think he's that old," he mumbled to the vixen. "You saw how he dealt with the last place, and he was hardly out of breath on the walk here. I don't know...he seems like such a nice fellow, but this is unusual. I don't know if I even have nieces or nephews, but I wager if I did I wouldn't be at the bar if I thought they were in danger. Would you?"
 
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