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Post by Carrow on Nov 13, 2011 8:41:16 GMT -5
Hearing Caden's pronouncement hit Carrow like a ton of bricks. His face paled to the extent that he was almost white as a sheet. He didn't find himself capable of responding to his pine marten friend for the moment, looking like he was extremely shaken by the whole thing. It didn't sound like Molly was in a good way at all, regardless of whether or not her situation was life-threatening. The way his companion made it sound, however, told him that it probably was.
The rodent gulped audibly as it dawned on him that Molly had had a near death experience. Carrow was no stranger to these; he himself had suffered a few close calls in his life. There had been that time in Whistleminster last year when he and Caden had nearly been run over by the stray carriage, as well as last August where he'd almost fallen to his death... not forgetting the assault he had narrowly survived six years ago, or even the mercifully brief but sickeningly powerful desire he'd had to take his own life in the wake of same.
He merely nodded as Caden spoke, taking everything in, and was about to say something when he heard Tally stirring. He also noticed Caden sitting down next to him, and he patted the marten's shoulder comfortingly. He was just as worried by all this as his companion was, but they'd get through it, because they had each other for support and company. Now... about Tally. Carrow was going to have to work hard to keep his composure because he didn't want her to see him upset.
The rodent wasn't quite sure how he'd manage it, but then the sight of the drowsy mousemaid fighting with the urge to sleep brought him out of his contemplative state. Tally was here with him now, like he'd wanted for so long. He'd take this, instead of overthinking about what had happened to Molly. Usually, when the mouse thought about things too much, he got upset, and Tally didn't need to see him like that. As she opened her eyes, the field mouse scooped her into his lap, gazing fondly down at her.
At the same time he did this, he took Caden's paw in his and gently squeezed it, as he looked over to him with friendly warmth in his eyes, his gaze seeming to say, I'm as worried about this as you are, but don't forget: we're in this together and I've got your back. He returned his gaze to Tally, stroking her cheek gently and smiling at her innocent reaction to being woken by him like this, not to mention his use of her given name, which was unsual, but oddly affecting coming from her.
"OK, Tally, two things: first of all, it's definitely not 'morning'. More like, 'good afternoon,'" he playfully chided her. "And secondly: now that it's the afternoon, I think it would rather be time for having lunch, don't you think?," he asked, eyes sparkling a little. "Might you want me to get something for you? Truth be told, I haven't had lunch myself, so if you're hungry, we'll go. If not, we can just stay here for a bit. "Did you have a nice sleep?," he asked kindly, ruffling her ears.
--
"Put the stomp on," Selvis repeated with a grin, chuckling at the zorilla's turn of phrase. "Oh, yes, he does know how to do that, I can tell you that for certain! I think he's right between the two extremes: not too harsh because he doesn't want to make us all hate him, but also not too soft because, as I said, there are those amongst our crew who would seize upon that right away. He's a good judge of the situations we face I think, accommodating yet not lenient, and stern only when he needs to be.
"As for my pine marten companion - yes, you remember correctly. He's an albino, and I have to tell you once again that he and the ferret have clashed several times over it. The ferret is - well, to a lesser extent than he used to be - one of those creatures who gets a kick out of teasing others about things, you see. I must admit though, he hasn't seemed the same since one of our former crew members left a few months ago...," the longtail reflected.
"He was a stoat too, and he was a good sort. I think you would have liked him as well." The weasel fell silent now though as Scharhorst was telling him that the Rosferians might soon be invading his home country. He sighed, a knot forming in his stomach as he took in the zorilla's words. "Hmm... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't slightly disappointed by this, but to tell you the truth, Scharnhorst... well... even though Crittenden was my home for thirteen years, I'm not sure I ever properly settled there.
"It would have been hard for me to become overly attached to it. It was my home... but at the same time I never truly felt like I was 'at home' there, if you catch my meaning." He was frowning a little at this stage, though he was unable to keep from smiling a little as his fellow mustelid gave him a sympathetic look. "So I'm disappointed... but this is making me think about one thing, and one thing only: the safety of my parents.
"They're the only remaining link I have with Ferlusan at this stage, and indeed, I haven't heard back from them since early September, so they may not have been aware of this at the time. They haven't told me anything about it just yet, though. I wrote a letter to them within moments of coming ashore in early November, so with everything going well they should have received it by now. I have a spare copy of it actually... I always copy out the letters I write and keep them... as mementos," he said, a tinge of sadness entering his voice.
"If the Rosferians are only in the north now... well, it'll be a while before they even approach Crittenden, assuming they even manage to get that far," he reasoned, nodding at Heinrich. "So my parents are safe for now. Even if they know what's happened - and they surely would be at this stage since it's a few months after the event - they won't be panicking yet. They're sensible creatures, and sometimes I like to think they might have passed even a little of that on to me," he told the zorilla with a chuckle. "So I'm not worried... not too worried at least," he said, sighing again.
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Post by Ladorak on Nov 13, 2011 23:07:38 GMT -5
Caden looked down at the pawn grasping his own, and contemplated it a moment. "Well... er... I'm not entirely sure I'll be going, Carrow. Ladorak told me to stay with you for now... and I think it's a good idea. We shouldn't separate just yet... though I'm worried about him. I don't know how he'd pawdle it if... something serious happened. Oh yeah... speaking of which... he said he'd meet us back at the Pitti Palace if he didn't meet up with us here." he informed the mouse.
He then quieted down, waiting for Tally to see if she wanted to get some food. That was good. They could head back to the cafe in that case... and possibly find Ocean. He didn't speak these thoughts just yet, however, as he wanted to let Tally catch up with Carrow first.
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The zorilla nodded at the news. Bullying... he didn't have much of an opinion on it, simply because he himself had not been bullied in his youth. He felt it wrong all the same, especially in the military... and especially over something so stupid as being an albino. They were a little different, yes, but they weren't dark creatures or anything. All it did was lower morale, and that wasn't good for a unit.
He dismissed the mention of another stoat. He cared not for comrades who had no chance of being comrades in the first place. A stoat who departed didn't interest him. But what Selvis said about his home did.
"Vell to be honest, I believe ze fortress of Bellegarde fell in September... and zat vas ze last Rosferian fortress zat Ferlusan had captured. Now zat Rosferia has its border forts back, I vouldn't be surprised to see an invasion soon. Unless of course zey vait for next year." he commented, as winter was of course approaching.
"Zat's good zat you do not worry zo. Yes, Catalonia would be attacked, but you live in Crittenden... zat's Andalusia, I think. Quite far south. Zey vould have a vays to go, and zey vouldn't aim at Crittenden either, zey vould go for Madrid, ze capital. Zat's in ze middle of ze country, so your parents should be in ze clear." the striped polecat explained. "I think they'll be safe, all in all. Vhat it could do zo, is knock Ferlusan out of ze var. How vould zat sit vith you? Of course... zere's still a lot to go before zat vould happen, I think." he added thoughtfully.
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Post by spender on Nov 14, 2011 13:27:18 GMT -5
The weasel doctor watched from a safe distance. He stepped forward when Ladorak began talking, but stepped back when he realised it wasn't directed at anyone. After a few minutes he left, and came back with a few scraps of paper clipped together on a writing slate. He stood beside Ladorak and held it out, along with a pencil. "If there is something important to say," he explained. "If she wakes, but cannot hear... Is best you don't let her go without... another chance." The doctor swallowed, his voice cracking. When Ladorak had taken the paper and pencil, he moved on to his desk and took out a bottle of brandy. "Do you drink, signore?" He poured a glass. " Alle nostre donne. Le promesse che facciamo per loro e si rompono senza di loro. Guardilo da cielo, il mio caro. Guardilo affondare in inferno."
Spender was a melting candle, but something Ocean said ignited the wick deep inside the mangled crater. Ocean was good at things that involved fire, even if they were only metaphors. The ferret moved, but it was hard to tell if he was melting further or if he was straightening up. If it weren't for the fact he commonly slept with his head somewhere nestled behind a knee and his tail around his shoulders, his drippy posture would have been uncomfortable. "Don' have anythin' to say," Spender said. He never did. The letters from home were still coming, filled with his sisters' ramblings, his mother's worryings, his father's increasingly unhelpful advice, but he never sent anything back. For all his imagination, he didn't know how to write a noogie, a romp around the kitchen, a hug, a playful slug to the gut over a round of beers. The best joke didn't need words, just a bar of soap, a firm ground, and someone's rear end. Where most beasts communicated best with their tongues and pens, Spender communicated best using the tooth that trapped the tongue and the paw that clutched the pen. No, a letter would not do. He needed to touch her, to hold her, to wrestle her to the ground and throw sand in her face and then get punched in the eye and bowled upside-down and kicked in the gut in return. That was the language he understood, the language she'd used to win him over. Musk and fisticuffs; the roughest bites and the tenderest nips in all the right places. A tail tugged almost out of its socket and a nose buried in the deepest belly fluff. Spender's wick burned brighter as the memories of their nights together trudged through the mire of his mind. "You ever been... with a jill?"
Tally yawned again. "Gut afternoonink," she corrected herself. The mousemaid slipped off the pew and stood up to stretch a little. During this, her stomach rattled. A year ago she wouldn't have noticed; a year before that she would have eaten a sock to keep it quiet, for if her master heard it he was sure to punish her for her "body's greed." But that was then, and this was now; upon discovering that she was, in fact, very hungry indeed, and that Carrow was offering a service of food, she performed a little jig right there in the aisle, one she had been practicing with Molly's supervision (not that Molly guided her in not falling over when the jig was performed, but because Molly got a kick out of watching it.) It came with a chant: "Pizza, pizza, in my belly, me so hunkry, me so hunkry!" "Gut sleep," she added, hugging her pewter bottle. She looked around blearily. "Molly? Where...?"
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Post by Ladorak on Nov 15, 2011 1:09:12 GMT -5
"I do... yes." Ladorak said, nodding at the brandy. He looked down at the tablet. She wouldn't be deaf... her entire life, would she? But then again, doctors had been hopeful that he'd regain sight in his right eye... but he never did. He could only detect light and dark... nothing else. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, trying to interpret what the doctor had said.
Something about the sky and watching from up above and down below. And jills. Females. Something about them too. His Calgarian wasn't great, after all.
Oh Molly... what would he say to her? Would he have to write everything out? Would that even be wise? It took him a moment to adjust to holding the slate in his paws, as his depth perception was of course shot. Running his claw down the length of it, he looked over at her again, sadness flecking his eyes. This could very well make him sick again. His malaria always cropped up in times of stress... and today had been quite bad.
How would she be when she woke? Coherent? Troubled? Would she still want to marry him? These questions swirled throughout his brain, numbing him to the bone, and causing him to wish that he had never gone into the cathedral in the first place.
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Ocean paused here, wondering why Spender would have nothing to say. But then he asked something rather... personal, and also rather taboo to discuss in public. The Welkinites might chance it, as they were known for swearing in public and other vulgarities, but he... wasn't sure he felt comfortable discussing something like that.
He looked down at the ground, shuffling his footpaws a little, his brow deeply furrowed like plowed earth. Except it was white. He thought about how best to approach this, and looked around to make sure there weren't too many in earshot. "Uh... I... I have." He admitted. It was back before he had joined the Order. He had been... a bit of a wild card back then, and desperately in love as well. But perhaps it had been a sort of rebellion too... a rebellion against his parents, and everything they stood for. Joining the Order had partly been that. Were his wild days the same?
"We probably shouldn't talk too much about it in public though. Why... exactly... do you want to know?" he asked. Memories of days gone by flooded his brain. Wild parties, living dangerously, almost driving himself into oblivion with it all... and then the sobering... the awakening. His holy mission. He had had a lot of things happen to him over the past several years... many of them he didn't care to recall.
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Post by Carrow on Nov 15, 2011 9:48:55 GMT -5
Carrow merely listened to his friend's words at the moment, sighing a little but in a relieved sort of way. Caden wanted to stay with him, and that was all the mouse could really have asked for at this point, because he really didn't think he was strong enough to pawdle this latest development on his own. He squeezed Caden's paw again, smiling at him. "You want to stay here with me? Thanks, Caden - it means a lot to me, because I really need you here. I'm struggling to come to terms with what's happened, but I know having you here will make things better somehow."
The field mouse was the kind whose spirits were lifted in any situation by the presence of creatures close to him. This was why he liked the prospect of Ladorak meeting up with them again, as he enjoyed being around the stoat no matter what. The pine marten's words made him think, all the same. "I'm not sure how I'd react to something like that either, to tell you the truth. We'll just... have to see how it goes, I suppose. There's not really much more that we can do for now..."
His voice was soft, the sound of a creature who had a lot on his mind. The mouse wasn't about to give up and admit defeat, though; nor was he going to automatically assume the worst-case scenario had occurred. That wasn't has way - at least, it wasn't any longer. He knew he'd been prone to preparing for the worst a lot in the past, but all that was behind him now. He'd deal with whatever occurred as best he could, and be there for Ladorak and Caden as well, whatever that was worth.
His worried expression vanished and was replaced with an altogether softer countenance as he saw Tally yawning again. "You know, if you need to sleep again later on, I'll be able to help you get some rest, if you would like. I'm sure you'll be wide awake in a few moments, though,," he commented, smiling, wondering how she would react once his offer of food came through to her. He was rewarded with a sight that reminded him, once again, just how adorable she was.
Tally was dancing some sort of jig in the aisle now, and Carrow smiled from ear to ear as he watched her. When she was done, he crouched a little (as there were only a few inches between the two rodents) and patted her forehead affectionately. "I'm glad you had a good sleep, Tally. I wasn't sure whether I could wake you after seeing you like that, in fact," he said softly, scooping her up into his arms and placing her on his lap again.
"If it's pizza you want, then it's hopefully pizza you're going to get. I should be able to afford pizza for two - or even a large one for us to share," he told her, warmth evident in his voice. It was then that she asked about Molly, and, without missing a beat, Carrow responded, his voice slightly softer now, but his appaearance remaining cheerful. He had to keep a stiff upper lip, for all their sakes, else he would have broken down sobbing in front of all the other creatures currently occupying the cathedral.
"She's... she's not here, Tally," he told her gently. "She went to have a talk with Ladorak, and I'm not entirely sure when she'll be back, but don't you worry. Until she gets back here, I'll take care of you," he promised her. That last part, at least, was completely true. Little white lies didn't hurt as much, but he didn't want to upset her. He'd gently break the whole truth to her when he felt ready to do so, as he was still struggling to process it himself. He could scarcely believe this was all happening. It looked bleak, but maybe, just maybe, there was a glimmer of hope somewhere.
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Selvis listened as Heinrich filled him in on the land situation, The weasel had enugh on his plate even as it was with what was happening, or due to happen, at sea, so he appreciated the zorilla's willingness to bring him up to speed with what else was going on. He nodded here and there, though his nods were of a more thoughtful variety at this stage as he took everything in, his heart sinking a little as he heard that there were now even greater prospects for a Rosferian invasion of his homeland.
"I... I have to admit you're probably right, Scharnhorst...," he murmured, sighing again. "Maybe the Rosferian army might wait until this winter has passed, as the Ferlusanian winter is not something to be sniffed at, and I should know; evwen going by the ones we had when I lived there, I'm not entirely certain they would be able to continue making progress over the next few months; but if not now, then almost certainly next year. It sounds like it's inevitable at this stage."
News took a while to get around the continent, but as far back as late September, while he had been ashore at Genoa and continuing to recover from the injury he had sustained on Calvi, the longtail had heard rumours that the Ferlusanian army had been turned back at Roussillon. Heinrich had already confirmed this, but the Rosferians had by now made their way into the north of the country, and this was slightly upsetting for Selvis to hear.
Realising what was becoming of the Ferlusanian army's attempts to repel the Rosferians disappointed him slightly, but he knew next to nothing of their prowess so couldn't tell whether this would have been expected or not. He nodded as Heinrich seemed to discount the notion of he Rosferians ever making it as far as Crittenden. "Yes, you're right: Crittenden is in Andalusia, and even I know that it's unlikely our enemies will ever get so far south.
"As you say, from a Rosferian standpoint it would be better, not to mention entirely more expedient, if they headed towards Madrid. They'd stand a good chance of knocking my homeland out of the war if they did that. You ask me how I'd feel if such a thing were to occur. Once again, it strikes me as something that would be disappointing in any scenario, yet also strangely inevitable, especially now that the Ferlusanians have been on the back paw for the previous few months."
"All I'm concerned about for the moment is the wellbeing of my parents. I wrote to them a week ago and am now awaiting a response. I'm quite certain they must be aware of these developments at this stage. Once I know they're safe, then I can hopefully turn my mind to other things. At the same time, though, I must admit that I worry sometimes about something happening that might force me to break off contact with my parents... it's one of my biggest fears in regards to this war. It doesn't seem likely at this point.
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Post by spender on Nov 16, 2011 5:10:39 GMT -5
The doctor was glad it was a slow day. He knew he should not be drinking with a patient... or a patient's husband, but there weren't enough excuses these days to bend the laws of social etiquette. He poured Ladorak a glass and set it down on the table beside Molly's bed.
There was a knock on the door just then, and he creaked it open, revealing a secretarial vixen, who whispered to him.
"Ah," the doctor said. "Captain. Captain Fugate. A visitor..."
He moved aside to reveal another molting least weasel, this one very small, wearing huge glasses that made his eyes bug out, and holding a feathered cap in front of him like a nervous Mexican.
"Captain Fugate, sir," Willard said quietly. "I saw you take her into the carriage... I walked all the way here, er, well, I ran, sir. I tried to follow the carriage... I got lost, a little... is she...?"
"You know 'ow I feel," Spender replied. His response came quicker than anything previous that day. "Th'others... they wouldn't understan'. Prob'ly." Spender tried not to think about them. This was surprisingly easy, because he never did anyway. He was a jerk like that.
Something about this revelation broke through the ferret's dull, brittle exterior. Ocean understood. Maybe that was all he'd needed to know.
He glanced down at the coins in his paw.
"Let's go find a fight an' make bets. We'll ask at a pub. Warwick knows th'way. C'mon."
Spender began ambling in a random direction.
Tally kicked her legs. Her toe claws just brushed the floor. She popped her bottle back in her mouth and raised it up to give it a good pull, then nodded.
"Pizza," she repeated eagerly. She seemed unfazed now about Molly's absence. She was used to the stoat jill spending time with Ladorak in private, and knew there was no danger or worry to be had about it. Molly wouldn't forget about her. She'd be tucked in later that night, with a bit of story, just like always.
"But Carrow not affordink. Molly giff me money. I am buyink t'inks now. I buy dis ha-ha... ha-ha-hat, I buy dis, dis... dis," she finished, pulling out a stylized ceramic weasel figuring from a pocket. "I pick it out my-my-my by myself. Vun, dis vun, iss vhite. I get anot'er vun, t-tomorrow, vill be yellow. Goink to paint my faffourite yellow veasel. Den I my-my... I buy my faffourite brow-brow... brown mouse."
She raised a paw and touched a claw to Carrow's nose. Then she raised her bottle. "Milk?" she offered.
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Post by Ladorak on Nov 16, 2011 11:25:10 GMT -5
Ladorak gratefully accepted the glass of brandy, and took a swig. A loud noise emanated from his throat as his adam's apple bobbed up and down, allowing access to the deeper portions of his esophagus as the brandy was downed. He wasn't one to make himself drunk while worried, as he'd already had a few glasses of wine before this, but the alcohol seemed a better idea than not.
He raised his head as the announcement of a visitor was made. Caden? Had his ward come to see him? But he wasn't sure he wanted the marten seeing Molly like this.
A mix of surprise, confusion, and relief greeted the stoat as he could see it was only Willard. "Jal Waters?" he asked, blinking. "What are you doing here? I thought... you were back on the ship. You never come ashore, do you? Is anything wrong?" he asked, before remembering that he had been asked a question.
He shook his head. "I... I don't know. For once in my life... I don't know." he tapered off, having half risen out of his seat, but sinking back down after a few moments, figuring he didn't need to stand up.
He clutched the tablet and pencil rather tightly, as if afraid it would somehow be torn from his grasp. The strain was evident, as it looked as if the stoat was being held together with thin twine of some sort. He resembled a porcelain vase that had been shattered upon falling onto the floor and patched back together in a makeshift, shoddy fashion. It wasn't like him at all. He motioned to a nearby chair, if the weasel wanted to take it.
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Caden felt his paw being squeezed, his reverie temporarily broken. He blinked. He had been thinking about that time on the ship... back when Spender had broken his wrist... and Molly had told him that story about the outcast... about how he'd been an angel just like the protagonist of the story.
It had created a longing in him to see if Molly was safe. A great desire to be there by her bedside... and to also comfort what was most certainly a grieving Ladorak. What was this? Why had he thought of that time that she had rocked him to sleep in his hammock in the sick berth? Was it his desire again for parents? Or maybe... a mother this time? He was finding his aching was just as strong for Molly as it was usually for Ladorak.
Shaking his head to clear it, he offered what smile he could, and nodded. "I think it's best to stay with you, for the present. Better to stick together in the big city." he commented, though his voice was a bit distant.
"Yeah... nothing we can do about it..." Caden agreed, though that to him was the worst part. Not being to do ANYTHING was disturbing him. Never before had he felt as powerless as this. He couldn't do anything, nor could he effect anything. It was a waiting game now. A waiting game to see if Ladorak would be returning a broken stoat, or a stoat whose relief was deeper than the deepest trough in the deepest ocean.
He pivoted his head a little to watch Tally ask for pizza, and even offering to buy it. His features remained strained, the tension evident beneath the mostly blank exterior. He listened, but he found he was having a hard time processing the dialogue going on between the two mice. He simply sat there silently, watching the scene unfold, and ready to go wherever Carrow liked. It would hopefully take his mind off things, after all.
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Ocean only watched as Spender began walking off, raising a brow. He wasn't sure he wanted to get involved in the fights themselves, what with his uniform and all, but he betting on them? He could probably... give in to that for a bit. It wasn't the worst of sins, after all.
But why would Warwick know the way? And why would Spender revere a chump like him to the point that he was an imaginary friend in Spender's universe now? "I don't... see any Warwick, Spender." he pointed out, moving to catch up. "Warwick left us... for whatever reason... though if you ask me... which I know you won't... a bloke who doesn't even bother to say goodbye isn't worth venerating like that. What exactly did he do for you that was so good, again?" he asked, confused.
"I don't know where fights are in here... it's a Kostritz region after all... and the Kostritzers... don't really do that sort of thing." it wasn't like Welkin after all, which had a love of it. "But yes... they should know at least in the pubs. It seems to me that Livorno would have that type of thing, being a port and all. Seedy waterfront taverns and all that." he chuckled. "If it's a fight you want though, we'll try and find one. We could try asking at the cafe we just came from." he suggested, hooking a claw back that way.
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"Ah I see... so it vould be... another..." He scrunched his face, thinking. "Month or so before you heard back from zem, zen?" he asked doing the math in his head. Any letter they sent would have to come by sea... most likely overland to Algeciras or Cartagena, and then by boat to Livorno. And plus... his letter still had probably another two weeks to two and a half before it arrived in Crittenden. It couldn't go overland, for obvious reasons, as the overland route went through Rosferia.
"Vell... I shall be keeping abreast of ze news, all ze same. You should probably do likevise." the zorilla suggested. "Also... I'm not sure vhy you'd resign yourself just yet. From vhat I know, ze Ferlusanians have a fairly strong position in Catalonia, and zeir only drawback is zat zey're up against Jacques Dugommier, one of ze best generals ever to see service in any nation, I think." he commented, unable to think of any other way to describe it.
Dugommier was a real hammer against the Ferlusanians, and so far had an undefeated record of victories in this war. He had driven the Welkinites and Ferlusanians out of Toulon last year, in fact. After that, he took command of the Pyrenees front, and had not lost a single battle against Ferlusan. True, he had missed his chance to invade earlier in the year, as he spent most of this year besieging Bellegarde, but now that Bellegarde was back in Rosferian paws, he was on the move again.
"I vould say your only drawback is that your Count de la Union just isn't Dugommier. Zat's all. But he has a good position now. If your country vas knocked out of ze var... vell you'd still be able to correspond, as zere's no law against correspondence to neutral nations, after all." the striped polecat pointed out. "I mean... ze Hanoverians are not doing so vell either. Zey had to give up Eastern Mordenz zis year, and only can defend Vestern Mordenz now. It is tight for ze Coalition at present, as Gradvar is negotiating and Kostritz and Ferlusan have not had victories in avhile. I understand zat. It is tough all around." he stated. Rosferia was proving more resilient than initially predicted.
"I vould not fret just yet. I merely asked IF and ONLY if it occurs. I did not mean to upset you." he said a bit regretfully.
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Post by Carrow on Nov 17, 2011 7:49:05 GMT -5
Carrow wanted to be there for Caden more than anything, even more than he did for Tally - not because the was playing favourites, as he loved them both in different ways, but because he saw that his fellow mouse wasn't unduly worried about the stoat jill (mainly because the conscientious field mouse had done his utmost to avoid upsetting her), while Caden, on the other paw, was visibly worried.
While the mustelid tried valiantly to put a brave face on things and maintain a stoic expression, the mouse could tell he wasn't dealing with things too well. As Archie had told him so many times, it was all in the eyes, and as he looked into Caden's for a moment before responding to his words, he saw that the mustelid appeared to be almost frightened. Carrow didn't blame him at all, but his reply to his companion's comment was a supportive one, the best he could manage under the circumstances.
"I think it's best that we stick together anyway, mate," he said softly. "It's enough that I have you and Tally here. It's... really helping," he told his friend. "Whatever happens, we're going to get through it, alright? You know me - as long as I have somebeast, even only one creature, with me, I usually turn out alright... and I'm sure that, since you're here, I'll be fine. Let's not give up hope just yet, Caden Fugate," he said, his voice becoming slightly stronger now.
Carrow was ready to deal with the outcome of Molly's injury whenever it became known to him. He had never been as close to Molly as Caden had become, but if she ended up passing on to Dark Forest, he was sure that her death would hit him hard. Caden would be devastated, and so, by extension, would the mouse, as he cared so deeply about his friends' wellbeing that any setbacks for them affected him too.
How would Selvis react?, he thought. He's unaware of any of this. He's hardly even seen her today as it is! He tried to put these thoughts out of his mind, hoping he was doing a good enough job of comforting Caden, while at the same time wondering how Tally would react to this proposal of being treated to lunch. As it happened, she didn't want to be treated to it; she wanted to pay for it herself. Carrow didn't like arguing with anybeast at the best of times, and he didn't want to risk doing so with the love of his life over something like this, so he merely nodded, knowing he could - and promising himself he would - make it up to her another time.
"You can pay for it then, if you like. I'll try and think of something nice that I can do for you in return," he told her with a warm smile. "The white weasel stands for Willard, right? And the yellow one, hmm, that'd be Selvis, yes? Heheh, why don't you try finding a pine marten one and paint it to look like Caden, if you're going to do all of us?," he asked cheerfully, looking over at his albino friend with a smile. "What d'you think of that idea, mate?"
He was about to say more, but then his nose was touched by Tally's claw, and he simply smiled wider. He was lucky to have her, like he was lucky to have all his friends; they were the kind of creatures who only came along once in a lifetime and changed the lives of those they had met. He shook his head at Tally's offer of milk. "No thank you, Tally. Warm milk just makes me drowsy most of the time, and it's not quite time for me to sleep just yet. Now, if the both of you are ready," he offered, looking between mouse and pine marten, "how about we return to the café? Tally and I can have our lunch, and Caden, you can take a small time-out since you've already eaten," he said, his voice softer now. "It might help to take your mind off things, even."
--
Selvis nodded at Heinrich's prediction, feeling he was more or less correct in what he said. Neither mustelid could accurately predict when Selvis's letter would get home, nor could they pin down a date for his parents' response, but the longtail was confident that he wouldn't be waiting as long for it as he had last time out - there were no secret presents on the agenda after all.
There was the matter of a delayed birthday/early Christmas present, yes, as promised by Trelio in his previous letter, however, something that Selvis was now remembering after it had slipped his mind over the last few days. The idea of writing a letter to his parents brought with it memories of the last one he had received from them. "It'll be about a month, probably. The best-case scenario is that I get something before Christmas. I should mention that it'll come with a present!"
His eyes shone now as he met Heinrich's, suddenly feeling a lot brighter. "I was at sea on the Agamemnon when I had my birthday earlier this year; it was the 7th of June, and as such, it wouldn't have been terribly practical for something to be sent around then because it would have taken a few weeks to arrive, and back then I didn't really have much of an idea of where we were headed." Nor of where I was headed, he added mentally. Those had been... some rough days.
"My parents knew that as well, and since I've already told them that we're going to be spending Christmas in Florence, like last year, they're able to plan this one in advance, killing two birds with one stone, so to speak," he informed the zorilla, smiling a little. "And yes, I will certainly keep up with developments, as best I can. As for why I have such a pessimistic outlook on this, well... let's just say that I've lost quite a bit of sleep over it during the year."
He listened silently as Heinrich filled him in a little more about what as happening on terra firma, nodding as the information was imparted to him. It didn't mean all that much to him as he hadn't been keeping up - or more accurately had not found himself capable of keeping up during what had been a rather stressful year for him - and had found that focusing on developments at sea had been sufficient, but at least now he could see a little more of the bigger picture.
"You didn't upset me, Scharnhorst," he responded softly as the zorilla apologised for doing so. "I don't like to think about what might happen if that occurs, anyway. It's not exactly the easiest thing for me to discuss. I've been fretting about it for a while, you see. No harm done, honestly," he told his companion, patting him on the shoulder to assure him he hadn't done anything wrong. "It's more my fault for worrying so much. I really should just try to stop doing that," he murmured.
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Post by spender on Nov 17, 2011 9:43:33 GMT -5
"'s not wot 'e did... 's wot 'e didn't do," Spender mumbled cryptically. He glanced around, slightly confused. He could have sworn he'd seen the other stoat... yellow and blue striped neckcloth, bag of sweets in paw; who else could it have been, and where did they go? Ocean must've scared him off, same as Caden had done. "'sides, he never left... He just doesn't like anyone but me." And it was no wonder! Everyone always saying stuff about him that wasn't true...
Slightly annoyed now—but at least showing some emotion—Spender waddled back to the cafe behind Ocean. Maybe he could ditch Ocean somewhere along the way, then Warwick would want to join in.
"Oh," Willard said. He settled into the free chair, but declined the glass offered by the doctor. The older weasel moved to the other side of the bed and did doctor-y stuff, checking Molly's pulse, listening to her breathing, dampening her brow.
Willard quivered. He put his cap back on and his paws fidgeted with each-other in the absence of anything else to fidget with. He was nervous; unsure if he was allowed to be in a room with the Captain and his fiance, especially with her in such a state; especially with the Captain in such a state, but he did not see anyone else around and if he had learned anything from the friendships he'd observed, it was that you never left someone alone in times like these.
If the Captain wanted him gone, he only had to ask, or order it.
Maybe it was okay to talk a little? Ladorak had asked questions...
"I, um... I got lonely back at home," the little weasel admitted. "Some other crew were coming here, and I heard that's where you took everyone, so I came along with them... we got here this morning and they left me at the post office..." Somehow, that story had circulated among the crew. "I don't think they meant to," he added quickly, not wanting to get them in trouble, but that was just a lie for his own sake. He unfolded a bit of paper he had hidden inside his cap (apparently taking tips from Spender): "I found a map, and got to the Piazza... I was looking for a book shop. I want to find a book about building ships. I think, if she's going to be in port so often for repairs, I ought to be able to help..."
He blinked owlishly at Molly, and then tilted his head and looked up at Ladorak sitting there. It reminded Willard of himself when he was younger. He'd been seven the first time he realised something was wrong. His mother hadn't gotten out of bed that day, and he didn't know how to feed Frances or himself. He could barely reach the door latch back then.
It had only been a fever; it had passed. But it was the first of many, and of stranger episodes. He couldn't count the number of nights he stayed up, helpless, but watching, just to make sure she'd be there in the morning.
Tally nodded so much her hat's chin strap almost unraveled.
"Yes! A pie-pie-pine marten and, and a birch marten for, for El-lee-ott! And a, a shark a shark ferret for, for, for Shark and a t'ree stoat for M-Molly and, and Ladorak and, and M-M-Moll—Oh-shin!"
The mousemaid was so excited about the prospect that she couldn't quite keep track of what she was saying. Normally this was not a problem; but normally she spoke so little that she didn't say things faster than she could think of them. As far as progress went with her rehabilitation, it was at least something different; she was opening up. Cohesion could come later.
As they departed the church, she listed all the other creatures she knew, perhaps no longer even sure why she was listening them:
"And a t'ree pie-pine marten for K-K-Keinruf and Reisender and Pyne Marten, and a Miri for Jis veasel, and a sto- a sto- a stoat for Kvillium and a two stoat for Luxe and Ze-Ze-Zephyr, and a-a-a-a otter for, for otter, and a badger, and a he-hetch-a-hock, and a applejuice and a pony and vindow and a chin-chi-chi-chin-chilla and a milk and pizza..."
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Post by Ladorak on Nov 17, 2011 11:35:32 GMT -5
Was Spender trying to imply something here? The ferret was growing more delusional by the moment, or so it seemed. Ocean sighed, and rolled his eyes. "If he didn't like me why did he help me go swimming?" Ocean asked. Stupid ferret... idiot. "If he didn't like anyone but you... WHY did he help us when we got sick? He volunteered at the sick tent." he spat.
Grabbing him roughly by the shoulders, he spun him around. "Let me explain something to you Spender... in language you can probably understand." he was squeezing now, and his eyes contained a fire within them. "Warwick... ISN'T here. He went bye-bye... OK? He didn't even have the common COURTESY to tell the Captain... who RUNS the ship... and does A LOT more than all of us... yourself included... where he was going, and if he was transferring or not. For all the Captain knows, he deserted. He only heard about it second-paw... and that's not very useful... now is it? Warwick is GONE... so FORGET about him... and let it go. Wake up to reality. Warwick is gone." he reiterated.
Shaking his head, he released his brother. What was his issue? Was he trying to be clever, or something? What Warwick didn't do? Yeah... he never did anything to begin with. He was with them for a few months, and he had helped out, but that was it. "Now... are you going to keep playing pretend, or are we going to go find this fight?" he asked. He had sensed that Spender wasn't really interested in the fight though. He had just sort of wandered away back to the cafe, as if he didn't care which direction they went in.
"Ocean! Ocean!"
Turning his head, the ermine noticed Caden running up to them. "Ocean... something bad's happened. Molly's hurt... she's hurt really bad. I... saw her in the street with a lot of blood. Ladorak said I should find you, and let you know, being the oldest of us." he stated. He had excused himself from Carrow the moment he'd seen Ocean, but since they were all in front of the cafe now anyway, it made little difference.
"I see, sir... where are they now? The Captain and Molly, I mean." Ocean asked.
"A hospital near here I guess... he just said he was taking her to one."
"Alright... I... guess we can stick together then... sir." he said, looking over at Spender. He did want to help his brother out too... and wasn't sure Caden would be interested in fights.
"Actually... can you keep an eye on Carrow and Tally?" he asked. "Spender... I could use your help." Caden looked over at the ferret. "Could you please tell me when a certain cab comes back in front of that white building over there?" he pointed to the Baptistry. "The horse was brown and had bells on it." It was a relatively easy task, as no other cabs had horses wearing bells, and when the cab returned, Caden intended to ask the driver where he'd taken Ladorak and Molly.
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Ladorak smiled, but it was small. "I'm afraid building her was the very problem." Ladorak stated. "You see... Agamemnon was constructed of green timber... it was swollen with water. When it dried, the wood shrank, thereby creating gaps that have to constantly be recaulked. It's too much for the ship's Caulker to pawdle after awhile, and eventually, she needs to come in for a full refit." He explained.
"A book on construction would at least tell you to NOT build a ship with green timber next time, but unfortunately, the damage has been done." the stoat informed Willard.
He paused though, as he remembered something the weasel had said. "Who left you at the post office?" he asked. It seemed that wasn't the only story that had gotten around. The fact that Willard was the "Captain's Spy" was also circulating, and trust in him had plummeted since Personza. It was unusual though, as Ladorak wasn't known for keeping spies, nor employing any such means of keeping tabs on his crew, and thus, the rumors were confusing at best, as the Captain himself wasn't suspected of spying on his crew. Some of the stories mentioned one of the Lieutenants as a possible culprit, though rumors were just rumors in the end.
Ladorak closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. "I recall that happening in Naples... but it happened here, too?" Willard either had a very hard time getting creatures to stay around him... which wouldn't be surprising given what had happened recently, or he had been the victim of neglect by his fellow crew members... but if that were the case... why would it effect him negatively? And didn't that tie in with the first issue? Either way, it seemed he had a problem making friends.
He was a strapping young youth. They were supposed to wander about cities like this without much supervision, after all. "Do you have their names?" the Captain asked quietly, reopening his eyes and lowering his paw. If Willard wanted help... he'd try and assist him, though he wasn't entirely certain if that is indeed what the weasel wanted or not.
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"Vell a Birthday and Christmas present is good." the zorilla said, smiling a bit now. "It's alvays nice to receive such things in ze mail. I vrite my parents frequently, as vell."
He thought about what the weasel said. He certainly seemed to have... unusual self-confidence issues here. He came off as a jovial sort, but maybe there were things under the surface that Scharnhorst had initially missed? He wasn't used to such personal weakness. The Academy had certainly drilled it out of you. Did the Welkin Navy not do the same?
He shook his head, frowning a little. Then again... he was facing the prospect of a foreign invasion to his homeland... that would probably rattle anyone... himself included. "Losing sleep over it? Zat's not good... it must be very vorrying... and I'm sorry... I have not seen my home invaded, so I vouldn't know... I can only imagine, really. You best just vait and see. I don't think zat Rosferia's goal is conquest... merely to force Ferlusan to make peace. Zey vant to be left alone, from vhat I've seen... ze Rosferians zat is. Of course... killing zeir monarch is a dangerous thing... ze struggle to see who is ze rightful ruler of Rosferia is still going on, after all. We of course support ze royalists... but ze republicans are doing vell... I vonder just how it vill effect ze rest of ze continent... zis revolution zat is." the zorilla mused.
"Vhy don't you tell me about your home?" he asked now, hoping to redirect the conversation a bit. "I have not been to Ferlusan yet... are zere many varships zere?" he asked, smiling once again.
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