Open The Bilge In The Bucket Under His Wing

Corda hardly needed the encouragement. Everything in her twenty-odd years being raised by a violent, angry, manipulative todd was screaming at her to vacate the area. "Yes," she agreed, perhaps too quickly. "I'll walk home with you, if you don't mind. This late at night in this neighborhood, I could use the company." Please, she silently begged, don't let him follow me. I don't want to be alone with him.
 
Chokra didn't seem to notice either one of their discomforts. He was much to focused on his drink, taking the locket from his pocket and staring intently at it as he downed another mug of alcohol. If they wanted to get away from him, now was as good of a chance as any.
 
"R-right you are. Absolutely ma'am." Ignoring the fact that he was quite possibly the last beast fit to walk anybeast home, the jerboa offered Chokra one more hasty salute and began backing away. "We'll see you in the morning!"

The cool air came as a welcome reprieve: Berchar, when he hopped outside of the tavern, realised his paws were sweating. This was becoming more than a mere inconvenience but a deeply troubling turn of events. Wiping his paws as subtly as possible on his shirt, he looked up to Corda and gave her a shaky nod. At the very least they were free, though his conscience panged with the need to continue this investigation, particularly for the sake of this fox.

"Well-.." He paused, trying to grasp for words which would not come. "That-...that was...-" He inhaled sharply. "I think he's a danger."
 
Corda didn't even dare breathe until they were outside, and even then, she was sneaking glances over her shoulder to make sure the elder fox wasn't following. She subtly nodded her agreement with the jerboa's point, trying to ignore the sound of her heart attempting to batter its way out of her chest. "I don't know what his intentions are," she said quietly, "but I don't think they're honorable." She paused before adding, "If you happen to talk to my brother, can you do me a favor? Can you try to explain to him that he should keep away from that fox? Sometimes he doesn't really listen to me, so hearing it from you might help."
 
Relieved as he was to hear the vixen agree that he was not being paranoid this time, the mention of her brother served as reminder that this fox was, in themselves, still a curious one. Regardless, he nodded. Any help was help right now, and they had seemed so kind. This brother figure, even, had gone some way to protecting him.

"Of course," Berchar replied, "I think we all had best steer clear and try to see if we can track down this...relative of theirs and get a picture." Scratching his whiskers anxiously the jerboa sat back on his tail and sighed. "I suppose we didn't get much joy out of that tavern between us, so where could we possibly start? We haven't even his drawing to go on, now."
 
Corda considered, worrying her lip. "Maybe," she considered, "this fox would have gone through immigration on arriving in the Imperium. There might be records of his arrival there. Which ministry is that - is that Justice? We might be able to ask to see those records and find him that way." She looked crestfallen as she realized, "But they probably wouldn't say where he is now. Hmm." She glanced at him curiously, adding, "Was what you said true? Did someone really see a beast like him go on a ship? Maybe we should check the docks, ask around a bit."
 
Though Corda seemed crestfallen by her realisation, Berchar still took solace from it: in the absence of many leads some records could still prove useful in getting a better idea of where this todd might be and what the story was behind those searching for him. Pert of him did ponder why, now they were excused for the night, he didn't simply go to ground for a week and let the messy situation blow over. He owed the strangers nothing, after all, and what use was he going to be if it became a fight?

No, he'd done that before. This vixen would be on her own, then, and how could he live with the knowledge that she could come to harm? Perhaps this was some small step towards redemption for his own cowardice.

"I think the docks is as good a plan as any," he agreed. "At least for tonight: I doubt we'll get much from Justice this late in the day. They said they'd seen a well-dressed beast board a ship, so there's even the potential this fox left. Perhaps he already knew he was being followed?"
 
"Possible," Corda allowed. "If he's gone already, so much the better - though I don't know if it's better for us to give a false destination or simply say that we couldn't find anyone who recognized the fox." A thought occurred to her, and she asked carefully, "Did Chokra ever tell you and Cordan what the name of his ship was? If we're going to be poking around the docks and his ship is there, I'd prefer to avoid it."
 
The diminutive beast shook his head. "He made mention of no ship - at least not to me," he replied. "He called himself a Captain but now you mention it, he was joking about having a crew again in no time." Berchar's nose twitched, brows lowering. "Makes you wonder what he's lost, or wasn't telling us."

Though there was something terrifying in this new experience, the jerboa couldn't deny a small rush of satisfaction to be having a thorough conversation again. The Slups was hardly awash with intelligent conversation, as far as he was concerned, and certainly not towards woodlanders after dusk. It was nice to be able to share his concerns and be believed, so he warmed to the conversation. "I think we had better find this nephew if we can and get his side of the story. If he knows Chokra well enough I wager he would be able to tell us how we should proceed. If we don't find him or he's gone, well..." He shrugged narrow shoulders, expression dropping. "I say we don't tell him at all. Plenty of beasts here tire of a job and don't show. We didn't exactly swear an oath. Perhaps we start at the docks, see what we can see, and make a decision once we hit midnight?"
 
Corda frowned as it occurred to her that making an oath seemed like exactly the sort of foolish thing that Cordan would do. She nodded absently, seeing the moonlight gleaming off the water of the harbor in the distance of the street ahead. "That sounds like a plan," she confirmed. "We don't know anything about what kind of ship though, and there's a ton of different docks, wharfs, and jetties. Did the beast you asked say anything at all about which one it was? That might help us narrow it down a bit. The navy has its own docks, as do the local boats, the merchant ships, and so on."
 
A few moments of silence passed as Berchar mentally re-visited the conversation: so much anxiety on his mind after the chaos of the day's events had made it somewhat foggy. Eventually he nodded. "I think it might have been the Navy," he said at length. "He didn't mention a specific ship but I'm near certain he said warship or something of the like, though why a well-dressed beast outside of Navy uniform would be wandering aboard is anybeast’s guess.” To Berchar the Navy was about as appealing as the Amy had ever been: why a beast with means to do otherwise should willingly join only baffled. Perhaps, though, given the circumstances it stood to reason: despite being in the firing line there would be fewer places safer from pirates.

He looked back up to Corda. “Shall we try it, then? Oh, and…thank you, by the by. Both you and your brother.”
 
Corda nodded, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smile. "Thank you for being so kind to both of us," she responded. "Most beasts who've met both of us, well, they tend to shy away from us. It means a lot that you've treated us like normal." She glanced toward the end of the street, catching sight of ship masts. "I'm not going to let my brother out for this," she noted. "He's always had fantasies of running off to the navy and finding adventure on foreign shores. Best not to give him an opportunity to indulge. If he does slip out, please do what you can to talk him out of it."
 
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