"I take it you all heard of the murder of Pipkin and Colden?"
Ferravale tavern
Fargo the weasel. Blisa the cat and Ferdinand the ferret. Darkwatcher the fox.
Darkwatcher walks in and strides to the bar, ordering an ale and drumming his gloved paws idly on the counter as he waits for his drink.
Fargo is here...again, for brunch? Drunch? what ever it is that beasts eat between dinner and lunch. Nevermind the fact that he just ate a feast not but a few hours ago he is looking to order some food. The fox's threat against him has him worried and in need of comfort food. Not Dark watcher but the other black furred fox, the one in a holding cell and being charged with murder.
Blisa comes dashing in and flops dramatically in a booth near the bar, heaving a great sigh. Ferdinand passes by the booth, rolling his eyes at the kitten's antics, and approaches the bar, ordering some tea and scones. The barkeep nods and goes to bring the order. .
Darkwatcher receives his drink and lowers his mask, taking a swift swig of succulent sobriety-scrambling substance, sighing in relief. Much better. The alcohol buzzing pleasantly in his head as he sips a few more mouthfuls, he stretches.
Fargo raises an eyebrow at the kitten, "What seems to be the trouble with you Blisa?" he notices Darkwatcher for the first time, "And...have we met before? you look familiar..." .
Blisa sighs. "I don't like the fox that's in the jail cell. I hope somebeast dismembers him." Ferdinand facepalms and groans. The barkeep raises an eyebrow and sets the order in front of the ferret, murmuring his condolences. The guard just nods. .
"That can be arranged," Darkwatcher offers, overhearing. He's joking, but only slightly.
Fargo chuckles at the thought, if a bit unerved by the kittens growing vocabulary of pain and death. "I suggested he be made into a fur coat if it makes you feel better." The weasel then orders a horrible ammount of sweets to eat, enough pie to stuff and kill a fleet of hares.
Ferdinand glares at the fox, then picks up the tray and takes it over to his very violent charge. "Pleathe don't encourege her...." Blisa sits up in time to see what the weasel ordered, and her eyes go wide. "You shouldn't eat so much sweets...you'll get fat." Her ferret guard chokes down a smile. So, the kitten failed to notice that fact that the weasel is already fat, it seems...
Darkwatcher chuckles a bit to himself at both occurrences. He tosses a coin onto the bartop and pounds the counter with his fist, ordering a refill. He chugs this one down quickly and efficiently.
The weasel gives his wide belly a pat and grins, clearly not offended at being called fat. "I doubt a few more sweets will hurt at this point." He chuckles.
Blisa frowns, then shrugs, mumbling into her cup, "It's your funeral." Ferdinand glares ta her, then sighs and basically flops down, except he's in a sitting position. He picks up a scone and eats it ruefully. The kitten can be a pain sometimes....and this is one of those times.
Darkwatcher laughs quietly as he relishes the buzz of the ale in his head, the drink warming him right up.
Fargo laughs at the comment. His tone becomes more sober as he eats his pie, "I take it you all heard of the murder of Pipkin and Colden?"
Blisa looks down at her lap, and Ferdinand sighs, nodding. "Yeth, and not only that, but we thaw the frethly dead body of Colden."
Darkwatcher goes into moody silence.
Fargo finishes his pies, "Yeah, what a way to go. That fox threatened me as well, even behind bars." he shivers, "Maybe he doesn't like weasels?"
Blisa shrugs, still looking sad. Ferdinand stands and nods politely to the weasel. "I have the feeling he hateth everybeatht. I thould probably get Blitha home. Good day." And off they go...again. What's with all these sudden departures?
It's because I need to go! :P Thanks for reading!
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