1st of Summer 504AV
It was early in the morning and Ripp was exhausted having traveled through the night. He had very little money with him simple because of the possibility of bandits but he meant to sell his supplies in Zeltiva, that is… if they would let him in, which was dubious at best. He had no idea about this city, and he hadn’t really had much chance to ask people back home in Lhavit. His foster family might have known a bit about Zeltiva, but he’d lost contact with them by the time he’d made up his mind to go. He wished he’d thought of stealing Denis’s boat and sailing there. The journey on foot had not been fun. He found himself talking to his cat a lot, which, really, was how he justified talking to himself. The cat named Flos was inside his bag which he’d left slightly open so he could breathe. When he wanted out he would let Ripp know, but for now he seemed content to sleep on top of all of his belongings. Ripp had set it up so that his clothes made a bit of a nest for him. What a lucky cat traveling in such luxury. But Ripp wanted to keep him alive and as spoiled as he could. He had developed a fondness for him, more over he sort of reminded Ripp of an old friend he missed dearly. He tried to think of her as he approached the guards. He tried to think of her because she reminded him that people could also be decent, and because just picturing her face calmed his nerves a little bit.
Ripp looked shabby and tired. His eyes were free of kohl since he’d been traveling, but they were ringed with dark circles anyway. His skin seemed to be far greyer than usually especially in his face. And he was skinny. He’d lost a lot of weight while traveling. He’d underestimated how much food he should bring for himself. Flos, of course, was able to catch mice and eat them. Ripp hunted as well, but he’d been rusty. He’d not done it since he was 7 years old, and even back then he’d been rubbish at it. His eyes seemed cold and dangerous and effectively communicated his usual intimidating intensity, but Ripp wasn’t angry, in fact he was actually terrified. This was his way of putting on a brave face, which was a problem, because the goal here was to seem non-threatening. He couldn’t rely on his age anymore. He was no longer a boy, so that advantage was lost to him. He remembered trying to enter Lhavit for the first time when he was 8 years old so vividly even now. As he approached this new place his mind was rushing back to that memory. And once again he felt like a defenseless little boy, facing a situation which could only end in one of two ways, Life, or death. Was this how it would be entering every new city? Would he always be drawn back into those memories? He figured it was very likely to be so.
His Tomo-daggars, which were his only weapon apart from his nails and teeth, were stowed in one of the pockets of his bag, but he’d made sure they were within reach should he need them. With a deep breath, he readied himself to approach. He tried his best to look normal, making sure at all times to keep his teeth hidden when they initially saw him approach. “H-Hail… I would like to Enter your City” He would say in the common tongue, upon approach. His accent gave him away more than anything. He still spoke the common tongue like a Zith. It was his mothers accent that had stayed with him, though if he concentrated he could sound a little like a svefra when speaking fratava. The sun hurt his eyes but he tried not to show this too much and squinted up at the city guards. He tried to be as non-threatening as he possibly could. He made himself small as he approached, his hands were always in full view. But he did not smile. Ripp rarely smiled, he didn’t know how to make the expression look right unless he did it naturally. Already, as he watched their faces, at least some of them must be noticing what he was.
The tension in the moment was bound to be pretty high, what with the Zeltivian opinion on Zith, or descendants of Zith being abysmal. So what happened next must have been a shock to all involved. At that moment Flos decided he didn’t want to sleep anymore. Annoyed meowing cut the silence in half. By the gods Flos this isn’t the time! But the cat wouldn’t back down. He wanted out. Suddenly a furry little grey head appeared through the top of the bag as he mewed and tried to get out. “Eh… I… This is… ow!” The cat’s clawed little paw had squeezed its way out of the bag and had raked the back of his neck leaving three red cuts. Ripp’s face look horrified, embarrassed and shocked. The back of his mind he did think ‘Surely a monster couldn’t carry around a furry pet cat, right?’ He though he should make a joke out a bit but words failed him so he just laughed nervously and tried to force the cat back into the bag.