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Post by spender on Aug 5, 2010 9:54:38 GMT -5
"Shall we move on up then? I think we're sitting in the box of honor."
"Bugger that," Steep said, in Common. She finished lighting her cigar (making no effort to offer Saumarez the leftovers of her match) and began uncorking the bottle. In Ferlusanian, she added, "My father would flip to see me drinking. He thinks I've got the runs; he'll probably be sending somebeast to check up. I'd rather stay down here until then."
She took a long, guzzling pull from the bottle. It was actually pretty amazing how she managed to juggle cigar and bottle lid without loosing grip of the cigar, nor dripping any liquid down her chin. She took a moment to breathe in deep, then went in for another quaff. The bottle was being drained in record time, and still her soldier's stance didn't wobble.
"Look at that... beautiful, isn't it?" She gestured at the gored rat in the arena, difficult though he was to glimpse over the crowd bouncing in front of the railing. "Two beasts locked in combat to the death. Putting everything on the line for that one moment of victory. So quickly does it vanish again. One victory isn't enough. Yet, two victories, they call you a monster. Do you ever take two grasshoppers... and make them fight?"
The weasel was very drunk by now; the previous bottles had taken their toll on her mannerisms, and though she still held herself with grace, her tongue was loosened and her thoughts jumbled out.
Putting the bottle down, she took out two grasshoppers and made their heads face each-other. With a grunt of satisfaction, she bashed them together. One grasshopper caved, the peanuts spilling out. The other's head was crushed, but still serviceable.
"One victory for Grasshopper on the Left," she declared. "But watch."
Taking a third one, she again faced them together and rammed them. The third one's head barely crunched at all, while the second one, victor of the first clash, practically exploded in her paw.
"This is how fighting happens. You win twice, it isn't natural."
A fourth grasshopper was brought into play. By sheer chance, it, too, caved in. The third grasshopper had survived two fights; but wear and tear was showing plainly. When Steep took the fifth to it, it shattered. Peanuts lay in a mess around the hem of her dress.
"And so the monster dies. The bull to kill twice is brought down. The gladiator who kills more than his share is scorned as a senseless slaughterer."
She sighed, slumping against Saumarez.
"I want to win again..."
Spender, for his part, was nearly wetting himself with glee. This was the best day of his life, bar none.
When he grew up, he promised himself, he would become a bull fighter! It took all his restraint not to rush into the arena right now...
Molly was having a difficult time of it. She paid little attention to Ocean or Ladorak—save for clutching the latter's trouser leg in her paw. It was as if, were she to let go, she might be sucked into the sky. Her heart was beating fast, her eyes wide, glued on the bull and fighter in the arena. Only the clenching of her jaw kept her tongue from lolling out, dripping drool everywhere.
This was too much for her. Too much blood, too much violence. She couldn't contain herself, and began zhzhzhzhzhping aloud. Most of it was lost in the jeer and cheer of the crowd, but those closeby heard, and gave her funny looks. She cared not. Her claws dug into Ladorak's flesh, piercing his trousers. If Spender was having the best day of his life, Molly had died and gone to heaven.
She closed her eyes at last, and shuddered as the images flashed across her eyelids. She let go of Ladorak and instead began fiddling with the ribbon of her dress. Calm, calm, breathe out...
With a happy sigh, she peeped her eyes open again. Just a little more restraint for the next fight... Or there would be no helping her. She would snog him right then and there. Or grab something big and hefty and start wailing into the crowd. Either sounded good to her.
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Post by Ladorak on Aug 5, 2010 11:40:16 GMT -5
Saumarez watched her little display. As bizarre and disturbing as it was, the weasel had to admit that she seemed to have a point. Yes...a veteran could get worn out just as easily...but these conditions were controlled...the matadors had to fight over and over again in contests...it differed from battle. But she was right too...win too many victories...and you were either lauded as the greatest hero of your time...or just another butcher.
Where was the balance? Where did it all end? Where did you need to stop before being considered an employee of the chophouse? "You're right." he said in her native language, speaking about the slaughterer. He was morose thinking about these types of things...
Yes...better to stay down here for now...avoid her dad...just do what she wanted for now. They were apparently breaking the household rules by smoking and drinking...or at least drinking so much. Was the rest of his life really going to be like this? He looked forward to putting to sea again and getting away from this...this nonsense.
But then she collapsed onto him, he struggled for a moment, letting his strength kick in to keep her on her paws. "Erm..." he tentatively wrapped his arm about her, hugging her in close. It was a slow process, labored almost, but soon he had her, and held her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "I know..." He spoke in her tongue, as best he could. "I know...it must be awful..." his snout moved over to her head, getting closer to her ear so she could hear him. "But um...best you can do...is to...grit your teeth...don't back down."
His mind was growing hazy, slipping into the uncertain mists of being attracted to her...rare as it was. "I'm sure you'll get your chance." his paw massaged her shoulder, and trembling, his snout moved very close to that scythe shaped splotch of fur running underneath her jawline. He pressed his nose against her cheek, nervously, cautious as sin.
But then he slowly ran down that line, nuzzling her a bit, wondering just what it was he was doing. He hated her, sympathized with her, was attracted to her, and cared about her all in one very confusing, contorted bundle of emotions lodged somewhere within him. Wasn't his heart...wasn't his stomach...it was somewhere in between maybe.
"Perhaps we both will..." He was still using her native tongue, moving up to to her ear again. "Perhaps we'll both lift ourselves out of the pits we've been in...and stage our comebacks." He nuzzled her again, unsure of what really had come over him. He had come here intending to say "OK it's been fun...bye!" and just leave her and set sail on the Crescent back to Welkin...but now...it was like he couldn't bring himself from her side...at least not yet. Poor thing...he could feel her heart beating as she lay against him. Yes...she was a living...creature...a creature who had suffered worse than most. Just what he could do about that he wasn't sure...and also prepared to jerk away in case she decided she wasn't too keen on his nuzzling.
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Ladorak was getting distracted by Molly's claws puncturing his uniform. Oh perfect! He COULD feel her claws on his flesh! Now what was he supposed to do!? Buy a whole set of pants!? "I...could make you a Volunteer Class I...if that's what you so wished. You'd be expected to be under guidance quite a lot however...such a promotion does not come lightly after all." Drat it all Molly...lay off!
He didn't turn to face her just yet, noticing that the dead rat was being picked up and brought out of the arena. Horrid sport...
Ocean paused...considering this. Yes...he wanted to go that high...so why not? He could always decide whether Lieutenant or Master was better suited for him anyway. But maybe he should wait...just wait and see how Spender was doing. He could still work as a Steward alongside him after all...so he paused. "I'll let you know after a few months at sea, if that's alright sir. I have to start off as at least Seajack if not Able Seajack anyway, right?"
"Aye that you do." Ladorak said, nodding. He took the ermine's offered paw, and shook it firmly. "Welcome aboard then Mr. Sleet...we'll see how you do."
Ocean nodded, gave a quick salute, and headed back down, rushing to join the group. Ladorak shot Molly a look as the next fight started, a fox and the bull from before. "What's gotten into you?" he queried. "You just punched some holes in my pants! I can't imagine what's..." he was interrupted by more cheering and roaring as two horses were disemboweled out in the arena for...sacrificial purposes? Some polecats had done the bloody deed, lifting their crimson covered daggers up for the crowd to hoot and cheer at.
((Just can't help but to tempt Molly along XD))
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"Indeed, he does seem rather confident...though I guess that happens the older you get. He's either 16 or 17...couldn't say for certain. But at least three years older than me." Caden commented. They moved down to the arena, Ocean catching up with them shortly afterward.
"Oh hey chums! I'm in! Shipping out with you guys when we leave!" he exclaimed. "I'm gonna go off and let my brother know...see you around...from now on!" he said, jogging off as he waved over his shoulder.
He trotted up to Spender, who seemed to be going wild with glee. "Uh...hey Spender...'m back." the ermine said, shoving his paws into his pockets.
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Post by spender on Aug 11, 2010 6:46:30 GMT -5
"I'm sorry," Molly said. She was quivering again. "I can't help it. There's... so much... blood!" She swallowed, but a bit of drool escaped and dripped down the side of her mouth. She wiped it away. "You know... how I get..."
She flipped her tail up between her legs and grasped it firmly, claws threading through the fishnet. The ribbon on her dress was in shreds already. The fishnet began to tear.
Molly didn't understand the meaning behind the horses being disemboweled. The bullfighting she knew. But not the horses. It seemed... gratuitous.
She liked gratuitous.
A smile twitched at her face, and with a sudden snap, she twisted in her seat, grabbed Ladorak's face with both paws, and planted the biggest kiss on it. It wasn't aimed in any way; her nose knocked his glasses over one ear. It took her a second or two to find his mouth and lock on, and by then she'd licked half his whiskers sopping wet.
Steep yawned. It wasn't a big one, but it was still impressive; she didn't lose her cigar.
She found herself pressing into the nuzzle. Reciprocating, almost, yet without giving any back herself. Her eyes fluttered lazily.
"This is so nice..."
Suddenly, she pulled away. This was simply to drain the last of her bottle before slumping back against Saumarez.
"Think it's time to go back now... my father will be worried... But this has been nice."
Dropping the bottle, she wrapped her arm around behind him, giving him a little squeeze, her eyes shut tight. She wheezed in through her nose, filling her lungs with his scent and her own cigar smoke.
"...love you... Pylly..."
Spender's reaction to the horses was about as opposite as it was possible to get to Molly's. In fact, he was doing his very best impression of Caden and Ocean. His striped face turned nearly entirely white.
Fighting was grand. Fighting was fun and exciting and neat to watch.
And then there was slaughter. Slaughter was messy and gross and he remembered the smell of the pigs back home, back in the year his father had decided to try to raise livestock for a lark, and suddenly he was throwing up again—although not a lot, as he hadn't eaten much since getting the last of the un-digested chocolate out of his system.
"Uh...hey Spender...'m back."
The ferret wiped his mouth with his sleeve and wobbled away from the mess he'd made. He waved at Ocean and just managed to swallow another wave.
"Ergghhh... don't y'hate it when it tastes like eggs? 's disgustin'... Why'd they do that? Wot's wrong with just fightin'? Pooey."
He groped his way past Ocean and sat down in the nearest empty seat on the bottom row of the stands, clutching his stomach.
"Uhhhrr. H'come you're here?" he asked, glancing up at Ocean. "Are you on a ship, too?" He frowned. "No fair, they don't give you rotten itchy trousers..."
Spender had never had much opinion about the comfort value of trousers, but the ones Ocean was wearing looked, well, cozy. It really wasn't any fair. He wished he could be on whatever ship Ocean was on, if that was their uniform.
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Post by bookity101 on Aug 11, 2010 20:58:54 GMT -5
Ellie was sitting with her head down in her paws. Rubbing her temples, she shook her head to clear it. All of this shouting was not helping clear the throbbing that had appeared after she had smacked her head on the gangplank. Maybe heading back to the ship and taking a nap would help the headache that was throbbing deep in her skull. Maybe if she just sat on the bench. She looked up at Ocean and nodded her congratulations to him, then looked down again... willing to wait for this day to be over with so she could take a nap. ((Just doing this to keep Ellie around in the thread ))
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Post by Ladorak on Aug 11, 2010 21:10:48 GMT -5
"Molly for pity's sake!" Ladorak exclaimed, noticing she was grasping her tail and starting to tear that lovely fishnet up. Her dress seemed to have suffered from her claws as well. "What has gotten into...mmmrrrrph!" he was cut off and his words were smothered by her mouth assaulting his snout, pushing his glasses up, way past his forehead and somehow ending up dangling on his right ear.
She finally managed to locate his lips, after wetting nearly half his snout. His eyes widened, everything beyond her head turning blurry due to lack of glasses. She was fiercely kissing him, a type of kiss he had not felt in a long, long time. He tried to push her off, but found her positively latched to him, like a leech. After a moment, he found himself simply letting go and sinking into the kiss. Why not?
His arms went up, wrapped around her and pulled her into him, returning her kiss, perhaps not as vigorously but sure as heck it was a kiss! The stoat Captain had no idea why this was happening, and had his guesses, but didn't bother voicing them. Who cared right? Enjoy this you lucky stoater! Was what he told himself at least as he closed his eyes and simply dissolved into the moment.
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Saumarez closed his eyes, rather liking how she hadn't pulled back and was just going with it. Wow...only five days and they were already folding themselves into each other? That was...a peculiar record.
"Tis..." he heard himself muttering back to her nice comment. "Tis..."
He was breathing more slowly, almost as if he were falling asleep on his paws, He sort of was...in a way, and it was with great reluctance that he knew they had to start heading back up into the stands at her words.
He was in the process of leading her forward as her bottle shattered on the stone floor somewhere behind them...it seemed so distant and unimportant...when suddenly he heard her mutter that she loved him...which seemed too soon...and that he was Pylly?
He snapped his head up, no longer resting against her. "Who?" he mumbled, unsure if he had heard right or not. He tried looking down at her, wondering if she was lucid or simply so drunk she had just spouted some random name. He wanted to press this but...maybe it was nothing.
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Ocean sat down next to Spender, noticing he seemed sickened by the slaughter of the horses. He felt sobered by this, knowing it seemed like senseless violence, even to Spender.
"I was thinking of joining your ship Spender...in fact I just did. Asked the Captain about it and everything. He said yes, so I should be joining you when you sail out...later tonight. I'll be with you Spender...with you from now on. I was working on merchant ships...pretty boring too, and the pay wasn't that good. So yeah...joining up. I have my reasons...most of which I want to keep to myself for now. But I'll be there..." he trailed off, watching the arena with a blank stare.
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Post by spender on Aug 15, 2010 6:21:47 GMT -5
"Who?"
Steep blinked. Saumarez's sudden movement startled her out of her fantasy, and she too straightened up, stepping away from him. Suddenly her eyes went wide, and she nearly swallowed her cigar. The panic was gone in a second; she had herself under control once more.
"Who, what?" she said, now in common. Her comfort zone had vanished entirely. Though alcohol flooded her veins, she was once again tense and distant, guarded. She raised an eyewhisker. "I said, I should return to my father's side now."
With that, she adjusted the brim of her hat and stalked off, out of the tunnel, not looking back to see if Saumarez followed, nor offering him her arm—or taking his if it had been offered. She climbed the stands to the lean-to where Roland and the others sat. Steep narrowed her eyes at the two stoats going at it. Disgusting display, it was. Nobeast had come here to watch that.
"Hello, dear, are you doing alright?" Roland said. Steep sat beside him. Roland only had to sniff once before his nose crinkled in dismay.
"I'll be fine," she said.
"Of course..." Her liver, however, was another matter.
As much as Molly was presently enjoying herself, her eyes kept flickering back to the arena...
At last she broke off from Ladorak, her entire being pointed towards the spectacle; she didn't just look with her eyes, but her nose and ears. She leaned forward in her seat, tail flicking about happily. Another bull was out, another fighter was readying himself.
She offered no explanation for her behavior to the poor stoat Captain beside her.
Despite the smile spread wide across her muzzle, all was not quite right with Molly Serra. The bloodlust was in her. She needed to dance—to war dance, to zhzhzhzhp at the heavens, to bite and tear flesh with her teeth, to sink her claws into prey...
She focused on the fighter and the bull. Don't look away... don't look at the mice in the stands. Don't look at the family of voles. They're not... not for me.
"Ladorak," she murmured, "if I stand up... tackle me. Promise me. Now."
Spender was quiet for a while. He appeared to be thinking—although such a thing was uncommon enough that nobeast really knew for sure what he looked like if it might occur.
"Idiot," the ferret declared at last. "Stupid! Y'daft wobbler. Ugh. Lean over 'ere so's I can smack you! Wot're you thinkin'?" He growled now, stamping his footpaws in frustration. "Th'ship I'm on stinks! 's got those booger-faces on it..." He waved a paw at Caden and Carrow (and Elliot by association, although his opinion of the beech marten was much higher.) "An' they make you do all these stupid things an' they hit you if you go slow an' they cut my 'ammock down once an' said if it happens again I gotta buy th'next one! It's 'orrible. Y'shoulda told me you were on a ship so's I could join yours! Stupid! Idiot. Ugh."
Spender buried his face in his arms, too distraught by the news that his only (perceived) way out of Welkin's navy had thrown his own lot in with them to care that there was another proper fight going on.
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Post by Ladorak on Aug 15, 2010 19:03:02 GMT -5
Saumarez watched her depart, not following after her. It hurt too much to think of the rest of his life with her. He couldn't...he just couldn't see himself spending every waking moment with her...it was just...he wasn't sure why. She could be attractive...but other times she could just be downright weird or boorish. One thing he could say with certainty...they had seemingly saddled him with the most interesting jill in Ferlusan.
It was going to be a fight, a real uphill battle this one. He would struggle to find things to love about her...if he even could. He leaned against the wall before reluctantly chasing after her.
Approaching the awning they were sitting under, Saumarez nodded cordially at Roland. It seemed as if the weasel father had faith in his ability to...sort his daughter out. Saumarez doubted his abilities on this end...how was he qualified at all? He once again felt like leaving...taking the Crescent and sailing away.
He decided it was now or never. He sat down heavily next to Steep, leaning over to speak to her in lower but still audible tones. "Priscilla...I think the time has come for me to depart. I'll...contact you with details for the wedding. I hope you have an easier time the next few days...thank you for your hospitality." He said, referring to the day she'd brought him over to her manor. He wasn't sure if she would even respond to him...he was getting ready to leave regardless.
A sudden, impulsive thought occurred to him, but he knew it wouldn't work the minute the words left his mouth. "Would you...no...never mind. You have your job after all...your upcoming duty to your country. Sorry." he said apologetically, though it wasn't clear what he had been going to ask her.
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"Tackle you...?" Ladorak asked incredulously. "I...suppose so." He said, unaware of what had come over her. Ladorak Fugate had grown up in an odd set of circumstances...not like your typical stoat. Thus he wasn't prone to blood lust as much as Molly was...though being engaged in personal combat was another matter. The stoat was as fierce as they came, if not fiercer. He was a regular whirlwind with his blade, unstoppable and swift.
He swat quietly, grimacing at the shrieking females around him. It was so atypical of that type of sex to go wild over such...events. Keeping his bile in his throat, the jack watched the next fight getting off to its start. Here we go again...
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"You wouldn't be able to...it's illegal to desert the Navy Spender. Now look...I'm sure it's not as bad as you say...I remember Ladorak Fugate. One of the best records for Captain in the Imperium in my day...sure he had a bit of a controversial end...but who doesn't have those moments every now and then? If he keeps it up, well...his current record will hopefully do him justice."
The ermine watched the fight blankly. He wasn't paying attention. He wasn't registering the near misses and stabs the fighter was making. He glanced briefly at Caden and Carrow. So...Spender had something against them did he? Was it a real vendetta or simply some immature rivalry? Caden had seemed...sensible enough. Compared to Spender anybody was sensible, so perhaps it wasn't a good reference point. "I'm joining regardless of what you say. I'm looking for something see...and I think joining up is my best chance to find it. The merchant marine is limited...and well...isn't on combat footing." he muttered, not being very specific at the moment.
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Post by spender on Aug 22, 2010 14:13:32 GMT -5
Spender growled. Silly Ocean; why did he want to talk right now? There was a fight going on! With a bull! It wasn't any good as a chicken, sure, and it was maybe a little more boring than boxing, but... a fight! And here this stoat just wanted to ramble.
Stupid navy.
"You're not gonna find anythin'," he said. "It's just water. Lots an' lots of water. If you're lookin' for somethin'..."
Here Spender turned and gazed out at the audience, his eyes narrowing.
"Tell me if you see a weasel that looks like a skunk except prettier."
Molly settled back into her seat. She could do this. She could. Just a while longer.
She stared at the blood-stained dirt in the arena below, and realised she could not, no. She was losing herself... had to get away.
Steep and Saumarez's arrival was a welcome relief--in particular the male weasel's indication that he was ready to leave. Molly practically leapt from her seat.
"We must be going as well, don't we, Captain?" she said, grabbing Ladorak's paw and hauling him up as well. "So kind of you to invite us, thankyouverymuch, pleaselet'sgodear."
Her footclaws tapped impatiently on the stone staircase, drumming out a little beat. If she could make it as far as the tunnel beneath the stands, then it would be a miracle.
Steep chewed her grasshoppers, staring blankly at the bullfight. She ignored the stoats, and only half an ear was fixed towards Saumarez.
She shrugged. "Bye."
Roland gave her a disapproving glare, then stood up to shake Saumarez's paw properly.
"Shame to leave before the end. You're missing a real treat, Captain. Duties before pleasure and all that, though, eh? You keep yourself well..."
Following Ladorak and Molly's lead, Roland bustled past Saumarez and gestured the younger weasel to follow. Out of range of Steep's hearing, he stopped and lowered his voice.
"What was that you were going to ask her just now? If there is anything I can do to help arrange something for the two of you..."
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Post by Ladorak on Aug 23, 2010 22:33:27 GMT -5
Ocean felt his paws become sweaty and his heart start to race at the mention of lots and lots of water. Lots...and lots...of water. Yes of course...but Spender didn't have to point it out like that.
"Right..." he murmured, shaking his head to try and clear it. "Doesn't matter. I need to find this thing. And I need to..." terminate it he didn't quite say. Spender was distracted anyway...meaning Ocean could slip safely away. "A weasel that looks like a skunk? Sorry...can't say I can help you on that." He got up, stretching a bit in a lazy fashion.
"See you on board." he said, and soon vanished into the crowd.
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"Erph! Well...alright!" Ladorak was practically yanked to his footpaws by Molly. He was flustered by all of this, but glad they were deciding to call it a day. He couldn't stand the sight of this anymore, so he was glad they were excusing themselves.
"Sorry to run." he mumbled to no one in particular. They hadn't been sitting next to anyone of note, so Ladorak figured it was OK if they could silently slip away. He followed Molly, letting her lead. Back to the ship he supposed...
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Saumarez was not surprised to see Steep's dismissal of him. Of course...a match not made in heaven, that was for sure. Glumly regarding her, he said nothing more, simply studying Roland as the weasel tried to heartily send him off...and then he too was being yanked to some private place, following Captain Fugate's lead it seemed.
He looked about him when they were off out of Priscilla's hearing. "What was I going to ask her? Is there anything you can do?" Saumarez shook his head. "I highly doubt it. I was merely going to ask if she perhaps wanted to come with me back to Welkin, but she's got her duties here, and the upcoming offensive. I guess...I just wanted to get to know her better...I mean look at it this way. I barely know her at all! So...now I'm expected to marry a jill I know next to nothing about. Call my planning ahead a bit too straight forward, but I suppose I was just trying to familiarize myself a bit with my future bride. Sorry...was a foolish gesture. I suppose I'll just have to give it up for now." the weasel said, frowning in a defeated manner.
"Thanks for the offer, but we both have our duties for the moment...business before pleasure as you said."
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Post by spender on Aug 27, 2010 6:45:20 GMT -5
Spender propped his chin on his paws and stared longingly at the bullfighter.
"If only they'd fight a chicken next," he sighed. "That'd be a real show. A chicken big as one of 'em bulls..."
He glanced to his side. Ocean was gone.
This didn't really bother the ferret all that much. He was half sure he'd just been imagining Ocean there in the first place. C'mon... Ocean Sleet? Appearing at a bull fight in a foreign country? It was just his wild imagination running off without him again. Like the time The Last Number was a real fox who had let Spender blow bubbles so big he could float to the moon. That had been a very fine day to explore the forest.
Too bad he'd never found those kind of mushrooms again.
"Kill 'em!" he hollered, turning his attention back to what was really important in life.
Not quite back to the ship...
Molly stopped in the tunnel, her breath ragged. She whirled around, wrapping her arms around Ladorak with such ferocity that they both nearly fell to the ground. She buried her snout in his shoulder and wept. Or was she laughing?
"Let's never... never... hahaha, never do this again, please... please..."
She closed her eyes and breathed in deep, trying to calm herself more.
"I was almost going to dive right in myself... Or bite the head off that vole sitting below us... It's a bad influence on me, Mr. Fugate. I loved every second of it. Oooh..."
She waved a ferret over. He was carrying a tray of freshly roasted grasshopper bags.
"I'll take two to go!"
"Thanks for the offer, but we both have our duties for the moment...business before pleasure as you said."
"Your pleasure is my business," Roland sighed. "You have a good heart. I'm afraid I can't pull enough strings to get her out of her duty to join you... nor can I convince her to accept if you had asked. There is little I can convince my daughter to do. Her whims are fierce, Captain. My advice... my advice would be to send her a letter." The old weasel frowned. "She is curiously obsessive about mail. She will be sure to get your letter, and to reply as soon as possible. It is the one thing I need not goad her into doing!"
Roland was about to say farewell to Saumarez properly when a random glance back at their seating revealed Steep had vanished.
The weasel jill was practically running, in fact--far out of sight by now, she slid between rows of spectators, diving down the stairs back to ground level. She reached one of the tunnels in record time, and raced through it. Her hat flew off.
Bursting outside, she nosedived and rolled to a temporary stop. Burying her face in a patch of grass, she screamed, the sound muffled, and then lifted her head and brought it down again, and again, and again, until her forehead was bloodied and bruised. After a minute or two of this she rolled over and stared at the sky.
Sometimes, to make the pain stop, you had to make it real enough there could be no doubt. Real pain stopped eventually. Invisible pain did not. More effective than the cigars, more than the alcohol, was the trick of harming herself just enough that when it healed, she could notice a difference.
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