Rainblade-Ryalors Open Vulpinsula & Surroundings Westisle Cultural Appreciation Day

[Aramaeus Lemon]

As the party entered the tavern restaurant, scowls were exchanged all around, the atmosphere of tension breaking out into clear resentment between the golden-furred invitee and the rest of the younger entourage. As Orina greeted her fellow vice minister, however, Aramaeus's eyes widened, and he hurriedly straightened and dusted off his coat. "Vice Minister Bluemoon!" he greeted their host with an elaborate bow. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir!"

Mileya, in the meantime, hovered near the back with her brother, his beau, and their adoptive daughter. "Wait for us to be introduced," she murmured from the corner of her mouth. "Addressing a lord or minister without an introduction just makes a rat's tail of you - case in point," she subtly nodded to the golden fox unknowingly humiliating himself before one of the most powerful beasts in the Imperium.

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

What happened to poor Mr. Larsen happened so fast that he barely had time to register it. First, there was a commotion from inside the building -- and then he was swarmed with street kits. Even Finn, who was trying his best to keep the baker from looking inside the warehouse, couldn't help but wheel around at the sound of a rack falling over to gawk.

As the young dibbuns clammored guiltily before him, the baker threw his paws in the air, and pushed between Cricket and Finn. "Aww gates, there goes th' cooling rack..." he grumped, waddling towards the bakery. "Notch Ear, I told y'not to hang off th'cooling racks!" he chided, pulling his apron off to fan away the cloud of flour. "Now y've wasted all th'flour and I've gotta send y'out to get another bag! Th'Ministry of Niceties isn't made of gilders, don'cha know!"

Finn, however, didn't need a second reminder that it was time to leave. Mariel had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and Cricket was tugging him away. "BYEMRLARSENitwasgoodtoseeyouagainsorryaboutthecupcakesgottago!" he blurted out, dashing away into the alley with his cohort.

"Cupcakes? What'n the name of Vulpuz are y'talking about Fin--aww not again..." FOOM.

Suddenly, a ball of fire blew the bakerfox off his feet, knocking him flat on his back in the alley. His footpaws went up into the air with a cry, and seconds later he tipped over like a doll onto his seat. He patted his fur down exasperatedly, and teetered his way painfully back onto his feet. "NOTCH EAR! Ya left the rotten oven open again! What'd I tell you about open flames around large baking operations!? Awh gates lookatcher fur... ...that's gonna take a while to grow back."

Cool guys, as they say, don't look at explosions -- they just walk away. But it was hard to be a cool guy while stuffing pink frosted cupcakes in your kimono.