60th Day of Fall
Year 514
15th Bell
Year 514
15th Bell
"If you're going to sleep, you can pay for a room."
Nanami opened one bright eye and lifted her whiskered snout towards the offending noise. Her back was warm against the low stone break of the fire pit in the middle of the Wolf Cave tavern, and her belly was dry against the swept stone floor. There was no reason for her to move anywhere.
Micah stands over top of the prone Zypherian, hands on her hips and her usually bright face creased into a disapproving frown. "You pay, and you sleep. If not, order something."
Nanami's ears pin back, and she opened her other eye to unleash the full impact of canine eye contact. She pointed with her muzzle to the table right next to the pair of them. On top was an empty plate with a large, well-picked bone that was quickly attracting flies in the unseasonal heat. A simple dress was folded over one of the stools. Evidently, she had bought something, and that entitled her to do as she god damned pleased.
Micah was not impressed.
"You're here every day. You've been here every day for weeks. What the void are you doing. Get a room, or get a table."
A kind of silent battle of wills takes place between the two woman as they stare, unblinking, into the others eyes. The tension as either tries to dominate the other bellows and breaths like a physical thing. But the other woman must see the answer hidden in the dogs eyes. Or at least part of it. She smiles.
"'Hope he's worth it."
Cowed, Nanami suddenly broke the stare by looking down; and just like that the order of things was established. The dog clambered laboriously to her feet. The wolf Kelvic sniffed importantly and pranced away, looking much too pleased with herself.
Nanami shifted and dressed silently, her pale eyes like chips of ice as she tightened the laces with much more force than was called for. Micah was right, she was waiting. Every day. But not for some sort of rendezvous with a flighty lover. She was waiting for a Nuit who promised his help.
A human male was playing a lute in the far corner of the room, and the dulcet tones washed pleasantly over the patrons. But there were quite few patrons this time of day. It was too late for the mid-day meal crowd, and too early for the nightly rush. A Zith with large, leathery wings sat closest nursing a foul smelling dark drink. Several Kelvic's were grouped around another table, talking low and fast; their darting eyes gave away their rodent or small mammal origins. Several of the taverns wolf pack loitered near the door.
Of course, the worst case scenario was that the Nuit was dead, Nanami mused. Her and Kuvarakh had already discovered that shared a common enemy; a foul creature called Victor. The man responsible for poisoning her son, and one of Kirby's slave-trading partners. But there were more criminals besides him looking to collect on a debt held by the Nuit's current body, apparently.
Kuvarakh had suggested the two of them part company for a while before they collaborate to hunt down, or bait, Victor. A dubious proposition, the Kelvic thought. But she didn't argue. And now the man who promised to help her has hung her out to dry.
The worst case scenario, she amended, was that he's dead. Skewered on the end of somebody's blade because he saw no need to arm himself with two hundred pounds of angry dog. Best case scenario is that he's alive, and late. In which case she will kill him with two-hundred pounds of angry dog. Her anxiety cant take much more of this. If he doesn't show up today she'll leave for good, she promises herself. She'll hunt down Victor herself, and look for the Nuit to see if he is ok, or if his enemies left enough of him to bury.
Nanami opened one bright eye and lifted her whiskered snout towards the offending noise. Her back was warm against the low stone break of the fire pit in the middle of the Wolf Cave tavern, and her belly was dry against the swept stone floor. There was no reason for her to move anywhere.
Micah stands over top of the prone Zypherian, hands on her hips and her usually bright face creased into a disapproving frown. "You pay, and you sleep. If not, order something."
Nanami's ears pin back, and she opened her other eye to unleash the full impact of canine eye contact. She pointed with her muzzle to the table right next to the pair of them. On top was an empty plate with a large, well-picked bone that was quickly attracting flies in the unseasonal heat. A simple dress was folded over one of the stools. Evidently, she had bought something, and that entitled her to do as she god damned pleased.
Micah was not impressed.
"You're here every day. You've been here every day for weeks. What the void are you doing. Get a room, or get a table."
A kind of silent battle of wills takes place between the two woman as they stare, unblinking, into the others eyes. The tension as either tries to dominate the other bellows and breaths like a physical thing. But the other woman must see the answer hidden in the dogs eyes. Or at least part of it. She smiles.
"'Hope he's worth it."
Cowed, Nanami suddenly broke the stare by looking down; and just like that the order of things was established. The dog clambered laboriously to her feet. The wolf Kelvic sniffed importantly and pranced away, looking much too pleased with herself.
Nanami shifted and dressed silently, her pale eyes like chips of ice as she tightened the laces with much more force than was called for. Micah was right, she was waiting. Every day. But not for some sort of rendezvous with a flighty lover. She was waiting for a Nuit who promised his help.
A human male was playing a lute in the far corner of the room, and the dulcet tones washed pleasantly over the patrons. But there were quite few patrons this time of day. It was too late for the mid-day meal crowd, and too early for the nightly rush. A Zith with large, leathery wings sat closest nursing a foul smelling dark drink. Several Kelvic's were grouped around another table, talking low and fast; their darting eyes gave away their rodent or small mammal origins. Several of the taverns wolf pack loitered near the door.
Of course, the worst case scenario was that the Nuit was dead, Nanami mused. Her and Kuvarakh had already discovered that shared a common enemy; a foul creature called Victor. The man responsible for poisoning her son, and one of Kirby's slave-trading partners. But there were more criminals besides him looking to collect on a debt held by the Nuit's current body, apparently.
Kuvarakh had suggested the two of them part company for a while before they collaborate to hunt down, or bait, Victor. A dubious proposition, the Kelvic thought. But she didn't argue. And now the man who promised to help her has hung her out to dry.
The worst case scenario, she amended, was that he's dead. Skewered on the end of somebody's blade because he saw no need to arm himself with two hundred pounds of angry dog. Best case scenario is that he's alive, and late. In which case she will kill him with two-hundred pounds of angry dog. Her anxiety cant take much more of this. If he doesn't show up today she'll leave for good, she promises herself. She'll hunt down Victor herself, and look for the Nuit to see if he is ok, or if his enemies left enough of him to bury.
