The Worst of Two Stoats! (a.k.a. Otters are the Best!)
Maimed is, for the first time in quite a while, faring much better during the chilly night in Ferravale than he has in a long while. The fox sits in his typical alleyway, reoccupied after the two ferrets that Zocalo and he had dealt with the previous night had left for their own home. His cloak is drawn around him, and he's happily tucking in to a meal, which sits atop a strip of cloth that was presumably used to carry it. The meal is a beggar's feast of moldy cheese, strips of fat trimmed off of meat which still bear some small portion of the meat itself, a couple of soft and squishy vegetables, and a waterskin of dirty water he'd gotten from a gutter. All of it smells a bit rotten. Delicious! Today he's also bearing a black eye, a rip in his ear, and a gash on his left arm, though he doesn't seem bothered by the presence of these wounds.
As per his usual nightly routine, Zocalo meanders into the town center with his paws stuffed into the pockets of his trousers and his hat low over his eyes. He's trying to ignore his little shadow, a small fox kit who insists on trailing behind him and jumping over his tail. She sings a song as she jumps, something about chopping it off, and Zocalo, for his part, does his best to swing his rudder out of the way when she jumps but she always manages to avoid falling flat. Before he comes up to the alley Z looks around to determine if the ferret twins are lurking about but they aren't and he casually leans against the building, looking in at the beggar. "Evenin'...whoa! What happened to /you/?" He is referring, of course, to the gash and the rip. The little kit jumps over Z's tail, misses and lands on it.
Where there were once no stoats, there are now stoats SQUARED! Yes. There are two stoats. One of them is Christopher, but the other is unfamiliar to the beasts around. Shorter by a couple of feet, and much younger. They're chatting to each other as they walk, in that unfamiliar language, and the smaller, younger stoat doesn't seem happy in any way shape or form. Chris stops though when he spots the two beasts he recognizes. "Oh, hey guys." he smiles.
Maimed gives a nod towards Chris and Zocalo, greeting them, though he ignores both the kit, who's annoying, and Thane, who he doesn't yet have any reason to trust. At Zocalo's question, he seems a bit confused, and it's not until he reaches up and wipes some blood off of his still-bleeding ear that he realizes what the otter's talking about. He picks up his blackboard and quickly writes down an explanation. "Found something in a trash bin for once. I guess the owner wasn't happy with me taking it. We fought." He shrugs and reaches down, lifting up the slightly rotten food, offering his unexpected windfall to his guests, though he seems slightly reluctant to have to share it.
Zocalo doesn't pay too much attention to the food because when the kit lands on his tail it /hurts/. He yelps and quickly turns to look at the fox. For her part, the dibbun is laying on her back in the dirt, laughing hysterically. Offended, Zocalo wraps his tail around his footpaws and glares at the laughing kit who doesn't really seem to care. Eventually he realizes that glaring is fruitless and turns to nod to Chris and visitor. "Evenin'." The fox straightens up and leans against Z's curled tail, listening to the conversation. The otter turns back to Maimed and shakes his head at the proffered food. "I already ate. Thanks though." He doesn't appear to notice the condition of the food though the response would've been the same if he had.
The two stoats chuckle quietly at the fox before resuming how they were before. They move over towards the otter and the fox before the smaller stoat stops, eyes going wide. "Jeez, who mangled the freak?" the stoat asks before Chris turns and gives him a HARD elbow in the shoulder. "Be nice." he growls. "Sorry about him...Thane hasn't learned to be nice just yet." Chris eyes the stoat who is rubbing his shoulder, muttering something to himself.
Maimed shrugs and puts his food back down in front of him, lifting up a piece of fatty meat and slipping it underneath his facewrap. He nearly chokes as he hears Thane's comment, his eyes narrowing and tearing up all at once from the burn the question causes. For a moment he just sits there and glares at the rude stoat, then, faster than one would expect from a mangey old thing like him, Maimed lashes out with a clenched paw, intending to bring his fist down squarely on Thane's footpaw!
Zocalo isn't about to get in the middle of a fight between the fox and the little stoat. When he sees the fist come flying out he takes a quick step backwards, upsetting the kit and sending her splatting into the dirt. Outraged, she jumps up and kicks his tail with a tiny footpaw and Zocalo is soon involved with his own, much smaller altercation with a much less worthy opponent.
Thane wasn't really watching the 'abomination', so when he hit his foot, he hit it GOOD. Thane jumps up and growls out. "Angh..." he spits out rather angry sounding foreign words, making Christopher's half smile turn into one of horror at what the stoat MUST be saying. "Heh...he deserved it." Chris grumbles.
Though he lets out a wounded sounding sniffle, Maimed's eyes do seem to be smiling. Retribution truly is sweet! Though
Maimed hasn't the faintest idea what exactly Thane is saying in his weird language, he can easily guess, and that just makes his revenge that much nicer. Meanwhile, the fight between Zocalo and the kit has the fox's attention now, and he quickly scrawls down something new, showing it to Chris. "I bet you a flagon of October ale the otter loses.".
The fight doesn't last very long. The little fox only manages to get one kick in before Zocalo reaches down, pins her arms to her sides and lifts her up in his fairly large paws. Holding her at eye level he glares at her with his best adult expression and says, "Stop!" The kit goes shifty-eyes for a moment, looking left and right and then back at Zocalo. With a sudden movement she headbuts him but only manages to hit his nose. "Ow!" Very unhappy now, but unwilling to even potentially hurt a dibbun, Zocalo holds her out at arms length and looks helplessly at Chris who has been a source of good advice in the past.
But that's when the smaller stoat growls. He reaches to his belt and pulls out a dagger, going to limp towards the fox. "You've made this the worst day of your life, freak." but he stops, only to have his uncle stop in front of him. "Give it a rest..." he growls a bit. Thane stares at him for a moment before sliding his dagger away, grumbling. Chris eyes him carefully before spotting the board, laughing. "Deal!" he blinks a bit when the otter looks at him. "What do you expect ME to do? She's YOUR dibbun." he grins.
Being unarmed, Maimed doesn't quite know what to do when faced with a dagger, and so he merely presses his back to the wall and glares, a coward at heart who'll never fight outside of sucker punches. The fox's body completely fails to relax, the board and the bet completely forgotten now that the death threats have started. Never once taking his eyes off of Thane, he reaches down and digs his claws into the dust of the alleyway, getting a nice pawful. Meanwhile, his other paw snakes down into his satchel, grasping for something else.
Both fox and otter freeze when the stoat pulls the dagger and neither of them relax even when it has been put away. The little fox's eyes are as big as dinner plates and the otter's are narrowed, trying to figure out what he'd do if the stoat did attack. Finally, after a few minutes of awkward silence the kit squirms in Z's paws and he realizes he's been squeezing her to death. Since she doesn't seem to want to kick him anymore Z sets the kit down on the ground where she hides behind his tail, unwilling to leave the scene of so much excitement.
Christopher is careful to keep himself BETWEEN both the fox, and the stoat, should anything else happen. "Sorry about him...Thane is a bit of a...bad guy..." he whispers down to Maimed before glancing to Z. "Z...this is my nephew, Thane...Thane...my friend Z" he motions to the smaller stoat, whose arms are folded, watching the fox angrily, plotting in his mind. "Don't care." he replies with a growl to Chris. If only his uncle wasn't here.
At Chris' introduction of his nephew, Maimed makes a noise which sounds distinctly like spitting, and his hateful eyes narrow into slits, fixed firmly on Thane. Were he in any shape to do so, he'd happily cause the smaller stoat some pain, but as it is, his bigger concern is to keep from getting a dagger pushed between his ribs. Maimed has a nagging feeling that this won't be the last he sees of Thane, and the fox can't help but shake a bit, despite his feeble attempt to show some resolve. His back remains pressed firmly against the alley wall, as though he's trying to escape by pushing his body through it.
Now that they are no longer mortal enemies, Zocalo and the fox kit share a quick, sideways glance before the otter attempts civility and nods to the angry stoat. "You here visiting, Thane, or moving in?" He definitely hopes it's the former as Maimed doesn't seem to be taking this all that well.
The young stoat completely ignores Zocalo, leaving Chris to answer in return. "He's staying...at the..." "Only because you wont LET me leave..." "Your dad put me in charge. So you better start listening." he grumbles before glancing back to the otter. "Staying with me at the bakery." he nods.
Maimed is, frankly, thankful that the two stoats seem to be on the verge of an argument. Anything to keep the amount of metal piercing his skin to a minimum. Still, his shaking doesn't quite seem to stop, and as he leans against the wall, he keeps glancing back to Thane, regardless of his best efforts to stop the staring contest they have going on. He lets go of the dust and takes his hand out of his satchel, wrapping up his food, his appetite quite ruined. At the mention that Chris won't let his nephew leave, the fox's ears flatten to the top of his head.
Zocalo shrugs and watches as Maimed begins to pack all of his stuff up. "How's business over there? At the bakery I mean." The otter is speaking to Chris but still has his eyes on the beggar though his expression has gone vacant. "You all moved in finally?"
Thane watches them for a few moments before waving a paw at them, turning and heading for the market before vanishing out of sight. Chris watches him go before sighing. "I really am sorry about him guys...he's been...like this for a while now." he then glances back to Maimed to make sure he's okay before setting his eyes on Zocalo. "Eh. Its been good. I'm not entirely sure too many know that we're open for business." he shrugs. "I've got mostly unpacked now."
Maimed doesn't seem too okay, frankly. He's shaking after the confrontation and seems to be wringing his paws together. He keeps peeking from the alley to make sure the other stoat is gone, and he snatches up Chris' jacket, packing away the last thing that he owns. Listening to the other two beasts talk seems to be calming him a bit though, and he mostly sits against the wall and attempts to calm himself down, his ears open but his eyes wandering.
Now that the mad stoat has left, the little fox kit rediscovers her courage and emerges from behind Zocalo's tail to investigate Maimed as he appears to be another fox and therefore more important than anyone else around. She brazenly invades the alleyway and stops in front of the beggar, her paws on her hips, inspecting. Then she asks an obvious question, "Where'd yer snozz go?" Appalled, Zocalo gapes at the dibbun.
The remaining stoat glances down to Maimed before crouching. "I promise he wont bother you anymore...and if he does...well, I'll make sure he gets what he deserves for it." he smiles as best as he can before laughing at the little dibbun. "Silly beast." he mutters, stepping next to Z. "So! How have you been, otter?" he asks, tilting his head slowly.
Maimed seems somewhat reassured that there is, for once, someone looking out for his interests, and he's so shocked by this development that when the little kit asks him what should be something insulting, all he can really do is be somewhat surprised at how direct it is. Reaching for his blackboard, he erases what he'd already written with his forearm, then writes something new, "It was cut off." He turns it so the kit can read, Maimed being too tired from the confrontation to really care much for giving his typical snarky answers, instead going for the painfully obvious variety.
The kit can't read and just stares confusedly at the board. Then, being resourceful, she takes a step closer to Maimed and tries to look under his face scarf thing. Zocalo's paws are itching to grab her away but she's already proven very stubborn and would probably just run back into the alleyway. "Oh, umm," he shakes his head and looks at Chris, "you know, not bad." He scratches the back of his head, a habit he has when he's trying to spin words, "Just the usual woody-in-a-vermin-village stuff." He sighs and turns to look at Maimed and the kit again. "How 'bout you? When'd your nephew get in?"
Christopher watches the kit stare at the board. He chuckles a little bit, smiling at the dibbun. "He said it got stolen by someone! And he forgot to give it back before he left!" he smiles, reaching to her muzzle, poking her nose before pulling it back and hiding his paw. "Got YOUR nose! Now...do I want to give it back." he hmms before glancing to the otter once more. "He's been here as long as I have...mostly been over at the inn or tavern tricking beasts into thinking he's much older than he is." he shrugs.
Maimed is too slow, not having expected the kit to do something that bold, nor being quite ready to defend his face after his run-in with the stoat. The first tug pulls the facewrap away, exposing the deformity for all the world to see. Raw, twisting masses of scar tissue covers the place where his muzzle used to be, just barely covering the bone, showing off the contours of what remains. What remains of his mouth is always open, his lack of lips and front row of teeth keeping it from closing fully, his molars exposed, as is his stump of a tongue, which barely moves enough to move food around, let along speak. In place of a nose, all he has are a pair of wet, raw-looking holes, giving his face a distinctly skeletal look. With a gasp he draws back from the kit, pulling his facewrap back up and turning away so that he's facing the wall, frantically trying to rehide himself.
Sarnith approaches from the marketplace section of Ferravale with a slight swagger to his steps as he approaches swinging a clay jug in one paw. Its obvious as the hob gets closer that a good part of the swagger is not intentional as he appears to be swaying slightly as he nears and those with a sensitive nose can probably already smell the ferrets muskyness along with the woody smell of whiskey. At first it looks as though the ferret doesn't even notice the group, simply because his eyes are closed and he appears to be humming something very off tunedly to himself. Once the carpenter is almost level with the group from the middle of the street his steps slow and he tips the clay jug to his face, then opens one eye mid guzzle as he first notices the voices, then simply stares at the mixed gathering after he lowers the jug.
The kit has seen enough in her short lifetime to not be all that shocked by the beggar's appearance and she's smarter than the stoat apparently gives her credit for. Still facing Maimed, she lets her head fall sideways and gives Chris a disdainful look before turning back to the fox. She's too young to sense the embarrassment he must feel but she can still be sympathetic to his plight. With a light paw the kit carefully pats the other fox's back and says, "It's okay, we've all got somethin' wrong wid usn's."
Chris blinks a little bit at the little fox, shrugging a bit. He managed to get a glimpse of Maimed's uncovered face, but quickly looked away to save his embarrassment...and the stoat's lunch. He glances over towards Sarnith, realizing he's there. "Oh! Hey!" he calls out, waving.
Strangely enough, Maimed seems to be a little comforted by the kit's reassurance, and he turns around once the facewrap is back on and covering everything up. His eyes appear to be watering a bit, but they seem to, at least, not be angry with the kit. Perhaps he realizes that she's just a dibbun, perhaps he's just putting it in perspective compared to Thane's remark, or perhaps he's sunk so low that a dibbun's comforting actually means something. Whatever the reason, he gives her a simple nod to the affirmative, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his eyes.
Even though Sarnith has reason to be slow off the mark as he's pretty well on his way to being drunk, he still catches sight of the beggars face and almost drops his jug before he hears Christopher's query. Quickly turning and almost throwing himself off balance in the process the ferret calls back " 'Elloish. " once he faces the stoat. With a quick tip of his wrist the ferret has the jug back to his face for another pull, one that he thinks he needs after seeing the fox's remnant of a face or possibly that he is having a bad nightmare about his past induced by drinking to much, either way he takes a good long drink as the scent of a heady whiskey thickens around the hob.
Zocalo watches his boss with a bemused expression on his face. The sight of the ferret drinking his way into oblivion is nothing new to him. "Evenin', boss." The otter shifts so that his back is pressing against the wall instead of his shoulder. With one paw he pushes the brim of his hat up so that he can see a bit better. "How long've you been going at that jug there?"
Zocalo watches his boss with a bemused expression on his face. The sight of the ferret drinking his way into oblivion is nothing new to him. "Evenin', boss." The otter shifts so that his back is pressing against the wall instead of his shoulder. With one paw he pushes the brim of his hat up so that he can see a bit better. "How long've you been going at that jug there?"
Christopher watches the ferret drink and chuckles a bit. "Drunks." he shakes his head slowly before glancing to the otter next to him. "What can we do to get a laugh out of him?" he asks, tilting his head a bit. "C'mon, there's gotta be something."
Maimed the heady scent of whiskey easily catches Maimed's nose, and a drink sounds like /exactly/ what he needs to take the edge off of the night's experiences. His eyes gravitate to the jug Sarnith holds, and he wracks his brain, clearly thinking on how to get some of the sweet, alcoholic ambrosia for himself. Oct 7, 2012 at 10:05 p.m.
Sarnith lowers the jug from his maw before squinting at Zocalo as if to figure out who the otter is before he answers " 'Ello an long enough ter'sh shtill see straigh' sho no' long enough. " as the carpenter speaks drops of whiskey that had gotten soaked up by the fur around his mouth spray towards the otter. Turning the hob looks again at Christopher and scowls slightly but he has already forgotten what the stoat had said so his eyes glide off of the beast and turn instead to the beggar and the fox kit, and that's where the eyes stay as his pickling brain tries to sort out what he's seeing.
Zocalo calmly brushes the little spots of alcohol off of his jacket. "I dunno, Chris. I'm sure there is but he's my /boss/ and I do need a place to sleep tonight." Nevertheless, Zocalo's grin is huge in anticipation. He shakes his head. "No, I can't. I still remember all too clearly the first time I tried to do something while he was drunk. Unfortunately, he just /looks/ incapacitated."
Christopher nods his head before chuckling. "Fine...then I intend to have a little fun...on my own." he grins. "Even though you COULD stay with me if anything happened..." he pauses. "Erhm. Bad idea actually. I couldn't promise you wouldn't wake up dead. With Thane around and all." he replies before glancing to Sarnith. Slowly, he saunters over with a grin. Its unclear what he intends to do though.
Maimed's keen eyes catch the glances Zocalo and Chris give each other, and the grin on Chris' face as he slides up to Sarnith, and so he figures that he'd best work quickly. Emptying his tin cup of coins and stuffing them safely into his satchel, the fox crawls a bit closer to Sarnith, holding up his cup to Sarnith and giving an entreating gesture to it with his free paw. Whether it's filled with alcohol or coin makes no difference to him, he merely hopes that Sarnith is drunk to the point where he'll be overly generous with each. If not... the fox gives a glance to his satchel, and all the various herbs he stores within it.
Either by design or happenstance Sarnith starts towards the beggar just as Christopher begins to near. The hob's steps appear to be going all over the place as he makes a very zig zaged approach towards the beggar, but if nothing else its also obvious that the ferret isn't close to losing his balance during the steps, yep he has had plenty of practice doing the drunk walk. When the beggar raises the cup however the ferret looks down instead to the fox kit and pats the young vixen on the head in an absent minded sort of way, a dark cloud seems to pass over the ferrets features before he lifts up the jug of whiskey for another drink.
The little fox's ears pin back as she becomes the recipient of a head pat which she hadn't anticipated. With a sidelong glance at the drunk ferret she sidles over to Zocalo and leans against the wall in a perfect imitation of the otter's pose, arms across her chest and all. The two wall-leaners bemusedly watch the proceedings. "I betcha the ferret wins." Zocalo mutters. "Ten bob on the stoat." The dibbun responds.
Christopher waits the moment that Sarnith's guard drops. He steps behind the ferret and taps his left shoulder before ducking off to the right to keep from being seen if he looks. If he does, he goes to poke him in the other shoulder. Fairly hard, just to see if he can tip him off balance. "OH MY SEASONS WHATS THAT!?" he shouts after the poke.
Maimed perks up an eyebrow as he watches Chris maneuver around around the drunken hob, and he abandons whatever plans might have involved his satchel in favor of slipping over to the wall with Zocalo and the kit. He counts up the coins that he owns, then holds up four fingers, then points at Chris, hedging his own bet.
The prods impose no reaction from Sarnith as he still has the jug up, if nothing else all the extra jabbing does is dislodge a bit of moisture from one of the hobs eyes. The shouts hover ever cause the carpenter to take the first reaction that comes naturally to any hard core booze hound, he clutches the jug protectively to his chest with one arm then comes the unnatural part where the hob flails around with his free left arm as he turns around. Even as the left arm swings about and the hob turns what looks like a tear is tracing a weaving trail down the hobs face.
"Do you even /have/ ten bob?" Zocalo asks the kit who just shrugs in response. The otter 'hrms' and mentally calculates how much money he's going to owe to a dibbun and a beggar if Sarnith loses.
Christopher was half expecting this, but he honestly thought the ferret would fall over. When the arm flails out towards him, his eyes widen. "Aguh!" he ducks down quickly to try and avoid being hit, but fails. He's clopped right in the forehead, sending him back onto his rear, laying still for a moment before he rubs his head and stands slowly back up. He's a little disappointed he couldn't get him to fall over. But that doesn't stop him from trying. If the ferret looks away, he takes out a piece of parchment, crumpling it up. He reaches up, going to try and prop it on his head, against his ear
Maimed hasn't the faintest idea what Chris is about to try with the parchment, but he can't help but let out a raspy sounding laugh, shaking his head and thoroughly having enjoyed the sight of the stoat being knocked down by a drunk. He settles against the wall to enjoy the show, money well spent whether he wins or loses the bet.
Sarnith stops his flailing about as his paw comes into contact with something that feels rather skull like and holds still for a moment as he looks down at the stoat now on the ground. Then with a slight jerk the hob's head bobs back up as he looks around for the... what was he doing again? With a slight shake of his head the hob then turns away from the stoat and takes a short pull from the jug because if one can't remember they might as well drink more to make sure that they can't, just incase they don't want to know. As the jug comes down however the hob notices whats left of the tear, since it's not the same amber color as whiskey, sticking to one of his whiskers and stares at it transfixed and cross eyed.
Zocalo isn't finding this whole situation as amusing as he had been at first. He knows a tiny bit more about what's going on with Sarnith than anyone else in the group and to see it played out like this is almost sad. He takes a deep breath and sighs, shaking his head slightly and trying to figure out a tactful way to break it up.
The parchment stays in place as Christopher walks over to the other group. "Lets see how long it lasts." he glances over to the drunk beast before yawning. "Oh jeez, sorry...I'd probably get home. I hope Thane hasn't beaten the place up too badly." he glances towards the market before waving. "See you tomorrow guys." he says before going to trip up Sarnith as he leaves, chuckling to himself.
Maimed doesn't quite know what to make of this parchment business, especially in terms of the bet, but the hour is late and he'll argue it out with Zocalo tomorrow if needs be. Either way, seeing the two of them clout each other for a little while was amusing in its own way. He shrugs, then lays out Chris' jacket in its usual spot in the alley and lays his head down, pulling his cloak tight about himself to stave off the cold.
Zocalo pushes himself up off the wall and approaches his boss. "C'mon, Sarn. Let's get you back home." Before he can direct the hob anywhere he turns back to the fox kit and mouths the words 'ten bob' and points at her, an expectant look on his face. The little vixen holds her paws out innocently and pretends not to understand. The otter rolls his eyes and places a firm paw on his boss' shoulder in order to attempt to guide him back towards the carpenter's shop.
Sarnith Stays in place with his feet firmly planted as he stares at the tear on his whisker. The hobs brow furrows in concentration and his face goes blank with the effort of trying to think through all of the whiskey that he has consumed.
Eventually his face twitches a few times and then as the otters paw lands on his shoulder he jerks violently forward and turns to stare at Zocalo with apparently haunted eyes for a a brief second. The carpenters eyes turn to the jug and then something that no beast has probably seen before happens, the hob looks at the jug with disgust and sets it on the ground.
"C'mon, boss, let's go." Zocalo repeats and pushes the ferret forward slightly. "You need to sleep." He glances around the town center, looking for anything or anyone that might give them issues as Sarnith drunkenly makes his way home and Z follows. The little kit has vanished somewhere, presumably to wherever she sleeps at night.
Sarnith again reacts less than normally to the otters urgeings by pulling away from the beast, he stalks off towards the towns main gates with a glint of moon light reflecting down to streams that are flowing down his colored muzzle.
"Gyah! Sarn!" Zocalo glances down at the jug and then over to where Maimed may or may not be sleeping figuring that the jug will most definitely be gone by morning. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he takes off after his apparently grief-stricken boss, knowing that leaving him alone in his condition will probably not lead to anything good.
