Evening of Cleaning
Characters: Kriskia, Sarnith, Wildheart, William
Location: Ferravale: Seamstress’ Shop
During the many months in which Kriskia was stalwartly stuck in bed, the first floor of the shop became something that belonged more in a ghost town than a thriving village, but the polecat is rectifying this now. Currently she is heaving large rolls of fabric, each beautiful, or garish, depending on your tastes, in a unique way. She's not the strongest to begin with, and add on top of that her recovering from some unnamed illness, and it is taking her /forever./ Also, she's seemed to have forgotten that these things /roll./ she grunts like an angry pig as she drags them, each as long as she is tall, one by one to their final resting place. No rest for the wicked.
Most of the contracts that have come to the carpenters shop in the last few days have been small jobs or simple repair work so Sarnith was content with leaving the shops operation to the other employees. The ferret pushes open the door furtively and peers inside at how everything is going on, then feels more than a bit guilty as he sees what’s been going on here. Stepping fully inside the shop the carpenter lays eyes to the jill and calls out " Kriskia? is... er do yer's need 'and? "
And a chill fall wind blows, and with it comes the cursing and screeching of a very unhappy Wildcat. Most of the villagers ignore hre at this point, the smarter ones take temporary cover. She has been out foraging for a few nights, and though Wyldheart may be the most 'wild' critter in town, she still doesn't like sleeping in the dirt. And don't tell Zoca, she finds comfort in his water doggie snores. Spotting Sarnith heading into the sewing shop, she stomps towards the ferret. Watch out!
The current burden, a very loud shade of turquoise, drops to the floor with a loud *thwump* and a large plume of dust. "Ah, bless!" Kriskia sighs with relief, pointing immediately to the felled goods. "Just th' 'ob fer the job! Take a crack at these, will ya? I have ta get this place all in shape fer th' winter rush." She smirks, satisfied at her own little rhyme.
William was just walking by, minding his own business, when the wildcat came stomping by. The potter considers for moment what to do before following the path the cat had took, at a safe distance.
Sarnith nods and sidles over to the roll of fabric, he takes a moment to size up how best to move the thing then gives it a kick to turn the thing and starts to roll it in the direction that Kriskia had been going with thing as he thinks to ask " Whur didjer's wan' et's ter's go 'zactly? " As the ferret ask he stops to look Kriskia over with a crease of worry on his face totally oblivious to the doom that is soon to follow in on his heels.
WyldHeart opens the door much too hard, letting it slam open in it's rickety frame. Dark green eyes take a moment to acess what she see's. The ferret isn't drinking. And the polecat, she moves? Those same eyes narrow as she takes her paw away form the doorframe. Slowly, the feline swaggers in the shop, chewing on a bit of who knows what. Her dark stained sack is thrown over her shoulders, and the kit just begins to smirk. "'ello Sirs." Run! Run now.
"They go over with th' other ones, wat d'ye think ye da-..." Kriskia is in the middle of brandishing to the opposite side of the wall, where the rest have been lined up vertically, when bang! Boom! Wildcat! "Err, G'day te ye, little miss..." She twists her mouth into what she hopes is a smile but looks more like a nervous tick. Not good with kids, this one.
William peers into the shop not too long after the wildcat made her entrance. He doesn't know these beasts so any change in their behavior is lost on him. "Hello," he calls into the shop, "Need any more help?" he asks noticing Sarnith the carpenter moving rolls of fabric around. The half blind rat enters and walks over near Sarnith as the hob is the only beast he has seen before.
Sarnith resumes the rolling of the fabric as Kriskia gestures, but keeps his eyes on the jill for a while longer, until the banging at the door also grabs his attention. The carpenter stops the rolling fabric and looks up to see his erstwhile employee then rolls his eyes before he addresses the rat with a slight nod saying " I's go' dis un fine. " With that the ferret gets both paws around the fabric and wrestles it into place next to the other rolls. Once done Sarnith smacks his paws together to remove some of the dust from them and turns to face the suddenly large gathering.
The Youth stomps her way into the shop, bouncing over rolls of fabric on the floor as if they were nothing at all. For a moment she just stands there, watching Sarnith grunt. When she gets nothing more then an eye roll she prompts. "I'm back sirs, an'I did good!" She drops the sack on the floor, which begins to ooze and twitch a little.
First there's this cat and now, a rat, and both are ignoring her, in /her/ shop...really, Kriskia's temper shouldn't be tested like this. She fumes silently for a moment before kicking her desk with her heel, causing quite a loud clatter. "Oi!Shop's not open for walk-ins yet! Ya want an order ya come see me, aye? I don' need a bunch o' flatpaws comin' in an' stirrin' things up before they're ready, so ya get useful, or ya get out!" Durned rapscallions! She points authoratatively at William. "There's plenty more needs ta be arranged up there, and you!" When it comes to Wyld she falters for a moment..."You...you...get that /thing/ up off the floor, s'gettin' it wet!"
William hadn't meant to ignore Kriskia, but he doesn't think saying so will do him much good. The rat nods at the flustered shopkeeper and sets to work setting up the things she'd pointed to. He glances over at the cat and her bag when Kriskia brings it up and turns away at the sight of it. He isnt' sure what's in the sack, but he could make a few guesses and none of them are very appealing.
Sarnith looks down to the twitching sack of who knows what then back up to Wyldheart and has about enough time to form a question on his lips as Kriskia starts letting her orders fly. The ferret holds his place and tongue for the moment then gives Wyldheart a slight nod/shrug thing before he heads over to the other rolls of fabric and starts to get another one ready to roll, then thinks better of it and carefully starts to heft one up onto his shoulder saying calling " Yer's wan' all o dem moved over's der Kriskia? " He does this in an attempt to hopefully give the jill another target to vent her spleen on, one that won't bite back.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dearie dear. Wyld is torn at the moment. She wants to very much impress Sarnith, however, this scrawny excuse for a weasel is throwing out fighting words and here the Wildcat brought /gifts/. The internal struggle only takes a few moments as the kit decides what she is going to do. She crosses her arms as Sarnith walks away from her. Its going to be one of those kinda days? Well, there arn't even any /otters/ here. She turns her head up high to look at the polecat square, one little fang poking out from under her lip.
Kriskia is not experienced enough to know not to get in a battle of wills with a teenager. Her arms cross and her own fang pokes out, as it always does, but her general uneasiness around younger beasts causes her to falter, so Sarnith's words are welcome relieve. "All o' them aye. Th' floor needs ta..." She pauses, getting an idea. She turns away from Wyldheart and continues talking. "Th' floor needs ta be completely clear sa I can sweep." As she speaks, she strides over to the sack-o-something, picks it up very gingerly so none of that slimy stuff gets on her dress, and starts heading towards the door. For all intents and purposes she appears calm now. She even winks at William as she passes him.
William continues to work but keeps track of the young cat out of the corner of his eye. Maybe she's always like this he thinks as he fills shelves with spools of colorful thread and ribbon. The rat is a little relived the shopkeep seems to be a bit happier now and even more relived that the sack of twitching wet stuff is being taken care of.
Sarnith parcariously balances the roll of fabric on his shoulder, while doing so he misses the other parts of the interpay between the polecat and wildcat. The hob gives William a look that says women? before he responds to Kriskia " Alrigh' luv, we'sll get 'er shifted fer yer's. " As the ferret moves carefully across the floor with the fabric burden he says " Wha' didjer's 'ave in der's anyways? " as he comes level with Wyldheart.
It looks like Wyldheart is about to start her screeching, but as the polecat simply ignores her the mighty puff-ball known as Wyld visibly deflates. When Kris takes her bag, /her/ bag from the floor and walks it out the door- her open mouth closes. Large ears slowly fall back on her head, and narrow eyes look wide at Sarnith."Nuffin sirs." She spins on the spot, and with much less stomping heads to the door and after her sack of goodies.
Kriskia may be acting calm, but she's a vindictive little jill, right down to her verminy soul. She doesn't just plop it outside but /tosses/ it into the middle of the street, not mindful of what might be in there or how easy it will now be to get it out. But to show there's no hard feelings now that she's got her way, she stands to the side and holds the door open for the cat. "I told you, didn' I? You don' boss bigger beasts around on their premus...pre..property, ya hear?" She jabs a finger in Wyld's direction. "An' ya /respeck/ ya elders."
William nods sympthicly at Sarnith as he stocks the shelves. Hearing the jill's comments to the cat and rat glances over at Sarnith since he seems to know the cat, and she seems like she could be trouble.
Sarnith slows to a stop with his burden and follows both Wyldheart and Kriskia with his eyes as they head out the door, he can't think of anything else to add that wouldn't back fire so he shuts his eyes slowly and shakes his head instead of shrugging. Starting forward again and getting his head back on the job the hob carries the roll of fabric to where it is to be displayed with the other rolls. With a bump the carpenter has the roll down and in place, its about this time that the look that was starting to form on Wyld's face registers with him and he starts to make his way towards the door.
Black rimmed eye narrow as Wyld sees her bag of treasures thrown out the door into the middle of the road. Her claws poke out of her fingers, and her hand travels to the hilt of her sword. A dangerous growl purglates from her throat as she stares at the seamstress. She draws back her lips in a toothy smile, sucks in a deep breath and then spits all over Kriskia's face. And considering the muck the kitty ate for lunch, there is pleanty of leftover fish-guts to be had.
It is /extremely/ fortunate that Kriskia's mouth is closed at the moment of impact. She thought she'd one. Shethought she was teaching an ipudent little kit what for, and the smug smile on her face says as much. It is a smile that slides downwards into a scowl in much the same way the fish-spit-ooze slides down her face. The jill is stunned for a moment, paralyzed. And then suddenly she is a flurry of fury and fur. claws grab at close, bodyweight is hurled forward, and teeth are bared in that vile snarl that is unique to mustelids. "Ye little wretch! Ye spoiled, rotten, slimy little thing!" Far worse insults are hurled at the cat as well, but none that could be repeated in civilized company.
Sarnith wasn't moving to fast to the door, but once he hears the spiting hissing and screeching curses her breaks into a run. As the hob flies out of the door and slides to a halt near the two a look of exasperation settles on his face as he tries to think of what to do here. Finally coming to a decision he tries talking first, or rather yelling. " OY! yew's tew! off o et NOW'S! AN I'S MEAN NOW! " as the carpenter starts yelling he raises both of his paws.
As Wyldheart deftly evades capture, there is nothing to break Kriskia's momentum but, well... door frame. Right between the eyes. And if Kriskia's language was foul before, well. A sailor would blush. A string of violent and filthy insults is flung up at the cat, punctuated by the words 'coward' and 'infant' every now and then, which is ridiculous because she is not so much older herself. But this barrage of curses it brought to an abrupt end by Sarnith. Kriskia turns, her voice lost, her eyes wide. She doesn't think she heard Sarnith yell before.
William continued to stock shelves and otherwise keep busy while the females bickered. The rat was trying hard to keep himself out of the fight since it had nothing to do with him and being far too noticibly the oldest in the place he doubted he could get away with childish behavior as easily as the rest of them. The jill's colorful choice of words did give him pause enough to turn and look at the door, but by then Sarnith seemed to have taken charge of things.
Sarnith lets his paws down in time to be caught on the nose by one of Wyldheart's flying pine cones. The hob winces as it bounces off and /glares/ at the tree before turning to Kriskia and putting a paw up to cover the side of his face from further Wyld propelled objects muttering " Don' know why I's put's up wit dat ting. " then shaking his head he addresses Kriskia properly " Yew's alrigh' Kris? dat darn cat is gettin's a real word when's I's catche's 'er. " Written on the carpenters face is worry, a moderate twinge of anger, and a bit of red where the pine cone has taken a bit of skin off of his nose.
Kriskia quickly retreats indoors where no pinecones or cats can reach her and swipes a scrap of cloth from her desk. She snarls as she wipes the fish-spit from her face. "Who does that little..." grumble grumble "...think she is? Wat's she doing dragging eel guts or whatever that was round about here anyways?" A furtive eye is casts in William's direction, wary of the hit her pride has just taken. She rubs the spot between her eyes and, feeling that it's still damp, continues to scrub the expectorant away.
William sees the pinecone hit Sarnith and decides it was best he stayed behind after all. "Are you alroight?" he asks as the jill returns to her shop. Might be a stupid question, but the rat has never been known for being bright.
Sarnith slips back inside as well kicking a pine cone inside as he does so. Once inside the hob shakes his head and rubs at the skinned spot on his nose before he looks back over to Kriskia's own slimy pardiciment. Standing inert and blinking a few times the carpenter tries to decide what to do next and finds himself gravitating towards the jill as he fishes around in his vests pocket for a wad of bark cloth to offer her saying " She's supposed ter's clean I's shop, 'ardly ever see's 'er round's though's so I's tink's she's at der's river alo' finden's 'er's own keep. "
For a moment, Kriskia's words are just bits of jumbled phrases, only vaguely aimed in the direction of other beasts. A quiet 'thankye' when sarnith offers her the clean rag, and then a'pffft' at Wyldheart's mention, "No need sloshin' 'er keep round on other beasts. Really, ya got ta stop takin' strays in, Sarn, yore worse than a badgermum." Her ears perk, lately registering that William is spoken. "Fine, thanks. Aye, we're fine, righ'? Oh, an' err, grateful for ya helpin' us out, err...?" Insert name here.
"William Tazan," the rat introduces himself, "from down th road at th pottery shop." The rat isn't sure if he can excuse himself or if the jill still needs help. He's finished stocking the shelves.
Sarnith shakes his head after the rag leaves his paw saying " Et's jus' 'ow I's is I's afeard. " After one more look over of Kriskia to assure himself that she is alright the ferret looks over to William saying " Well met den William, tank's fer der's 'elp, an sorry abou' der's cat, she's more of a pain den she's worth. " After speaking the hob dutifully heads back over to the rolls of fabric and starts to heft another one.
The fabric Sarnith's got is the last bit that needs to be lined up, but Kriskia's not going to shoo William out of the shop. Maybe things will get awkward enough that he'll just start cleaning more for something to do. She drops the black cloth on the desk with the other one, wipes her paws on her dress to remove any last flecks of saliva, and strides over to the rat with an outstretched paw. "Pleasure, Will." She gives him her best simper.
Sarnith lugs the last of the fabric rolls into place then wanders over closer to the the other two beasts. Digging into his other vest pocket the hob extracts his corn cob pipe and holds it up to check and see if there's anything left in there before he heads over to one of the laps in the place to light the thing. Stopping at the light source he thinks to call over " Et alrigh' if'ns I's 'as a smoke in 'ere Kris? "
William lets go of Kris' paw and tries to extract himself from the shop. "It was a pleasure meeting you two," he says in parting.
"Course it is, Sarn." Kriskia brushes her hob's shoulder softly, eyeing the pipe. You. Foul temptation. I don't know if I should trust you. "Kris is right. Kriskia, actually. And aye, I say she is. Wasn' dirty so much as neglectful aye?" But the William is out the door. Well. She turns back to Sarnith. "Aye?"
Sarnith Lights the pipe from the wick of a lamp and gets it going with a few vigorous puffs on the stem. Nodding his head the carpenter looks back to Kriskia as the smoke from the pipe starts to form a little cloud. Finally getting the thing going to the point that it should stay lit the hob takes a lungfull of the smoke and blows the stuff upwards saying " Well, wasn' such a bad gran' reopenin was et? " with a slight jokeing grin.
Kriskia feigns a look of horror. Well, at least she's got her sense of humor back now. "/That/ was a grand reopenin'? Pfft. Thankfully not. No, there's still dustin' ta do...An' I want ta dress that figger over there." She jerks her thumb over her shoulder at the display window. "If /that/ happened on the reopenin' tho..." She shudders to think.
Sarnith lets a full grin show as he holds the pipe clenched between his teeth. After another draw on the pie the ferret says " Well after's yer's were ou' der shoutin like dat's fer all o der town ter's 'ear I's dunno's abou' yer's openin day..." The grin on his face grows a bit lopsided as he grabs the pipe from his face and holds it out towards the jill.
The look of horror is real now. "Oh. /Oh./ I didn'a even think abou' tha'." She admits, casting a worried glance over towards the door. When she turns back, the pipe is in her face and, well, hey, why not? She sticks the stem between her lips, her ears turning to the sides, and takes an experimental draw on it. She's still inexperienced with this whole smoking thing. "Wash it tha' ba', eh?" She asks through clenched teeth.
Sarnith leans back slightly and turns the upper half of his body away from the jill in the manner that fits the mustelid's flexibility as a slight hint of a blush dusts his face " Well, even I's can' say dat's I's 'ad 'ead some o dem's words, an I's been ter's a few tavern's in I's time, like... " He goes on say a few of the more choice things, at a well reduced volume of course. When the carpenter finally does finish speaking he keeps himself turned away with a bemused look on his face.
"Oh." Kriskia giggles, and now it's her turn to blush. "Well, a tavern's one thing, but I er...well, ya don' go ta th' places I been without pickin' some things up." She seems slightly abashed, but mostly amused at Sarnith's repition of those words. She reaches forward, planting her palms on his cheeks and turning his head back to her. "I can teach ya what some o' them mean."
Sarnith stiffens slightly at the mention of the places Kriskia has been, then out right reddens as mentions her possible instructions. The hob does however gain a serious cast to his still red face as his eyes center on Kriskia's " Don' er, shouden' we?... um. " he stops here to take a deep breath and looks to be about to say something else but just keeps his mouth shut for now as his face already begins to lose its blush and adds a shrug as an after though.
A sphinx-like smile had been growing on Kriskia's face, but Sarnith's rather awkward answer quashes it. "Oh? Shouldn' we? She pulls in more pipe smoke before removing it and, pretending not to be careful, blowing it Sarnith's way. "What else should we do? Got a pressin' manner at this time o' night?"
Sarnith takes almost no notice of the smoke that fills his nostrils as he carefully tries to chose his words while casting his eyes downwards " I's mean, after... well shouden' we no'? I's don' wan' ter's 'ave ter's... 'ave dat 'appen again or ter's 'ave ter's make yew's go thru et's again. " as the ferret speaks his eyes start to bead up and his arms reach out awakwardly to embrace the jill.
Kriskia waves the paws away, but does get all stormy as she might have with Sarnith in the past. She just sighs and turns to her desk, busying her paws by organizing the papers there. The two now rather stiff cloths are brushed to the newly cleared floor. "Aye, I suppose ye always be the senrible one, righ'?"
A hurt look crosses the hobs face as his arms are brushed away. Sarnith stands there with his brow furrowed for some small while whilst Kriskia works at he desk, eventuality he raises his paws and goes to set the on her shoulders from behind as he intones " Now 'ho wen' an accused I's o dat eh? I's jus' don' wan's ter's 'urt you is all, I's jus'... don' know 'ow ter get's wha' I's really mean in's ter's word's righ'. "
Kriskia shrinks underneath Sarnith's paws, but she doesn't slink away. It would be pointless if he was so adamant about being there and.../comforting./ But she does not turn to look at him. She merely segregates her papers into stacks, picks through the stacks and segrates them into newer stacks. "Never said t'was a bad thin', bein' sensible. I s'pose if we were really sensible 'bout it, T'would be a boon, aye? Ya got enough with that /cat/ skulkin' roun' yer shop, an' who knows how many other beasts workin' fer favors."
Sarnith frowns at the shrinking motion but slides his paws down Kriskia's upper arms and back up to her shoulders as he says " Der's only one udder dat I's 'as worken der's, an even if 'e's a woody 'e's still no' a bad un, works fer almos' nuttin an 'e don' try's ter's get inter's my booze either. " " Les' jus' be a bit more's carefull 'bout tings if'ins we's can ya? " as the hob goes on he tries to start rubbing his paws in circles around Kriskia's back.
