Open Imperial Army Barracks/Imperial Condos When Duty Calls Me I Must Go

[Rhana Redd]

Rhana said nothing at first, taking another bite out of her mushy food before the ferret’s paw upended her plate, sending its contents all over the table.

She forced herself not to react at first, eating the last mouthful in her spork before calmly setting it down by the overturned plate, letting the others argue about what she’d said and what she’d meant.

Then she got up. Looking to the marten who’d spoken up on her behalf – Aran, she thought she’d overheard his name was – she offered a polite smile, though very obviously forced, with an anxious undertone to her otherwise friendly, upbeat voice.

“Sorry luv, it just wouldn’t be the same.”

Turning to the ferret, she kept the same expression up, though there was nothing genuine left in her words, only a mockingly friendly tone.

“But – say, how about your food, Aginpole? I bet the good Colonel would want ya to offer your meal up to a fellow soldier in need, right? Bein' the good patriot he is. Oh, those kinds of beasts just love sacrifice, don’t they?”

She didn’t move towards him, didn’t get up in his face. But anyone could see her fur starting to bristle, smiling face hiding her tensing frame, ready to fight if the ferret decided to go for it.

 

[Perila Z. Mogul]

The big ferret youth seemed to consider Aran's words for a moment, his eyes going from the marten to the stoat, before he shook his head and balled his fists. "That's not what she's sayin'. She's shamin' the beasts who laid down their lives un'er their command, an' I ain't gonna let some nobody twerp from th' countryside get away with that. Git outta my way, mate."
His expression only darkened further, muzzle wrinkling and neckfur going up on end as Rhana uttered her challenge. His paw was shaking by the time he lifted it.
"Sacrifice yer face, muckraker!" he shouted.
There was a sizeable audience by now, some whooping and hollering as Aginpole swung for the stoat's face, putting his whole body into the punch.
"Aw, shucks-" Tomas said, as she, Thalia and the rat, whose name was known by some as Sulfer F. Todkin, all scrambled up out of their seats and backed away, giving the fighters room.
Tomas yanked at Aran's sleeve. "Let 'em sort it out, pal, this is 'ow we do things sometimes. They'll either hate each other th' resta th' assignment or be fast friends by tha end o' this."