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Post by Carrow on Oct 18, 2010 4:22:25 GMT -5
Carrow couldn't help but smile as he saw his beech marten companion return with coffee in paw. The mouse was like him in that he'd recently developed a taste for it, though without any unwanted side-effects like hyperactivity. The constant state of tiredness that the wood mouse had become accustomed to never fully lifted, so he may have been perked up slightly by the beverage depending on how he felt, but never anything more than that.
"A place where I won't mind doing that," he wondered when the mustelid addressed him, smiling sheepishly. "Finding one of those is much easier said than done on a ship, but I reckon I've found the right place for it. And sure, how's about we meet up with Caden and Selvis after we have this taken care of?," he suggested, his smile widening. He was looking forward to having a proper chat with Caden, to say the least of it.
"Alright then," he said gently, "follow me." Without another word, the stripling set off. The rodent was known as a creature more self-conscious than most, but he had his moments where caring about his immediate surroundings was beyond him, and he didn't mind all that much about revealing his injury to Elliot again - though a thought had crossed his mind for a moment as he'd been walking: the beech marten had declined to comment on the scar back in Naples.
This of course meant that there was a good chance he would do so when he saw it again. Carrow's only worry was that he might be asked how he ended up with it, and being asked such a question was a little more than he felt he could pawdle at this particular moment. He tried to steer clear of thinking about it himself, but he figured that he'd just deal with it as best he could if Elliot enquired about the scar. No harm if he did ask, after all.
The mouse had headed back the way he'd come, and was now backing away towards the stern, and hoping that the application of the compress to his injury could be done in relative privacy. He turned around and smiled at his beech marten friend, clearly grateful to him for wanting to help. He quite liked having him around, especially at this particular time, as he was very reliable. Steadfast, too, just like his other two friends. The four of us make a great team, he thought, smiling to himself now.
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Post by spender on Oct 18, 2010 6:47:56 GMT -5
Coooofffeeeeeeee...
Biting the straps of his bag of toys and letting his shoulder do the work of carrying it across his back, Spender stumbled forward, paws outstretched, eyes glazed. Drool seeped from his half-open mouth—half at the idea of the drink, and half because biting the bag was sending his saliva-manufacturing glands into overdrive.
"Cooofffeeeee..."
Spender dropped his bag off along the wall and went to investigate the possibility of caffeine. By the time he'd arrived, there was a bit of a crowd. He smelled eggs, and grimaced; eggs made him make weird smells. This meant, of course, he would have to ask for some. With luck, he could get a great belch out of it. If he could hold it in 'til battle began, and then let it out right as a cannonball struck the other ship, he could say it was his burp that had caused the destruction. Guaranteed hiyucks!
The ferret found himself in a particular situation upon getting his breakfast. In the end, he simply shrugged, and began slurping the eggs off his plate with the blunt end of his muzzle. (It never once occurred to him to put the cup down on the plate, of course.) He devoured the eggs in record time, passed the plate on to Willard, who was flitting about being helpful to anyone who needed a dish cleaned (the weasel looked ready to explode with joy if someone asked him to take their plate and cup), and went back to his bag of toys.
It didn't take long to spot Caden and Selvis. Spender huffed over to them, slurping his coffee loudly as he arrived.
"I got some things t'play with," he said slowly. His eyes flicked between weasel and marten. He could recall, as if it were yesterday, the embarrassment he'd suffered in the castle-building contest. Resentment flared up in him, and he frowned just a bit. He didn't want to play with Selvis; Selvis who had scolded him and left him to clean up the blocks all by himself, even though it was the weasel's crummy design that had caused his castle to fall over in the first place. Nor did he want to play with Caden; Caden who had kicked him out of the sick berth after he'd apologized, who everyone fawned over and adored, who was so perfect and and and...
But at the same time, he did. Desperately. He didn't care if he hadn't managed to get Molly's attention to get another dose of whatever it was she gave him that made him not care about any of this—he needed to play with someone, to have some from of contact... not work, not boring mealtime babble with Willard chiding everyone every other word. Just... attention. To be noticed. It was enough; he didn't even have to be liked. Not really. It was too hard, anyway.
"Y'can pick from there," he said, swallowing the knot in his throat. "Or we could... play make-believe... like pirates an' merchants... umm... d'you have that book...? 's really funny..."
Molly cackled. It was a proper cackle, though. Very refined. Not at all like the evil, malicious witch that was lurking inside her, that would no doubt burst forth later in the morning in a foul cloud of black and yellow flame, bellowing over the waters...
"Things are a bit different at sea, Miri. No one's going to give you trouble for taking out a few Rosferians, I'm sure. Here, we should ask Lad." She nodded at the Captain across the deck, and sighed a little. He was so handsome from this angle. Always the predator, that was her Fugate. "Maybe we could make a bet, see who gets the most when it comes paw-to-paw. I'll swap this for a sword, and you show me how it's done with your beat-'em stick, eh?"
Glancing back at it, the stoat suddenly held her paw out, pointing at it. "May I?"
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Post by Carrow on Oct 18, 2010 15:37:31 GMT -5
Selvis flashed a small smile at Spender when he saw the ferret reach him and Caden. The weasel was quite keen to show him that he harboured no bad feelings over what he had come to refer as the Building Blocks Incident. Granted, it had been entirely Spender's fault that the Ferlusan weasel's first meeting with him had ended in disastrous fashion, but he had long since dismissed thoughts of what had occurred.
The mustelid hadn't borne a grudge in his life, and he wasn't about to start. One of his best traits was that he always tried his hardest to see other creatures in the best light; that is to say, even though he knew Spender was a power-hungry sadist who seemed to think the universe revolved around him, he hadn't completely written him off yet - but then again he hadn't been given adequate reason to do so.
He knew Carrow would have immediately clammed up had he spotted Spender. The mouse was reluctant to admit it to any creature, but he was genuinely afraid of the antagonistic creature. Thinking of this led Selvis to wonder about where his rodent companion had gotten to. Then he remembered that the wood mouse had been feeling uncomfortable earlier, and surmised that his back must be acting up again. He was a little worried, but knew that he was in good paws.
"Hello, Spender," he said gently, in between sips of his coffee. The energetic longtail didn't need much in the way of extra stimulation, but he knew he'd be thanking himself when he was still going in a few hours, doing... whatever it was he would be doing at that stage. He still wasn't entirely certain how the night would turn out, after all - but would have been fine with basically any possible outcome. Battle or not, he'd be ready nonetheless.
"You did?" Here, his eyes lit up. He was pleased to see Spender, but still inwardly cautious. "What sort of things did you bring?," he asked, exaggerating his enthusiasm more than just a little. Here was a fifteen-year-old who still played with toys - and he had an infantile mind as well, so the weasel was careful not to say anything that might rile him. Particularly careful, as he knew that just one remark, taken the wrong way, would probably do it.
"Though I think playing make-believe sounds just as fun," he murmured, not really in the spirit of things, but striving to keep Spender happy. "Whatever you might prefer, really. I'm a tad busy right now with breakfast, but I won't be too long," he told Spender, giving him a reassuring smile. Selvis found interacting with him slightly difficult, but he was going to make his best effort with him regardless.
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Post by bookity101 on Oct 18, 2010 20:22:49 GMT -5
Elle followed after the mouse, carefully balancing her coffee. She was glad that he had allowed her to help, well allowed "Elliot" to help. Her nose wrinkled a little. After her time with Janey in Naples, she had managed to properly a line everything within her own mind, and she didn't have the same problems that she had in the past about confusing herself... though that wasn't really a plus when it came to certain albino friends of hers...
Stopping short of Carrow, she glanced around, nobeast was paying attention to two small striplings in corner of the boat.
"Alright then Carrow, turn around and I'll get this on you, and yes, I think catching up with the others is a good idea too." She too remembered the scar on his back, but decided that she would not ask him about it just yet. If he volunteered the information... well she was one of the best listeners in her age group on the ship....
`/~/`/~/`~/`/~/`/~/`~/`/~/`/~/`~/`/~/`/~/`~/`/~/`/~/`~/`/~/`/~/`~/`/~/`/~/`~/`/~/`/~/`~/`/~/`/~/`~/`/~/`~/`/~/`/~/`~/`~/`/~/`/~/`
Miri shook her head a little, a smile once again playing about her lips.
"I think we could make a small bet on who gets more, though I'd like to be allowed to use these as well." She removed the brass knuckles from her pouch. She removed the the knives from their typical spots on the handles. Instead she placed to weighted knobs on the equipment. "More fun to follow up a good hit with a solid punch."
She glanced down where Molly was pointing, then grabbed the baton. Spun it, then pawed it over to the stoat jill, smirking a little because she knew that Molly wouldn't be expecting the weight. The ten inch hardwood staff had a half inch diameter and two large bulbs on both ends. It had also been hollowed out through and through so the lead created two small rounded ends that were capped with a shiny metal to make it even harder. The handle was covered with leather strips that were worn smooth from her constant use. The final piece was the thick leather strap that kept it attached to her wrist.
"Well, do you think it will get the job done?"
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Post by Carrow on Oct 19, 2010 5:14:48 GMT -5
Carrow turned around as per her request, feeling tears beginning to glisten in his eyes. There was little, if any, point in keeping the origins of that scar under wraps any longer. The mouse had often been told that a problem shared was a problem halved, but he'd never really believed it. Carrow had always had problems opening up. Even Archie had had to coax him into talking about certain things back home, and she had been the creature he'd trusted the most back then.
He tugged on the front of his shirt, before slowly removing it. In doing so, he managed to knock his flat cap off his head. The item of clothing fell to the deck timbers, but Carrow didn't make a move. He simply stood there, his brown eyes welling up with tears ashe stared straight ahead of him at the approaching ships. He didn't have to keep this hidden any longer. If anything, he needed somebeast - anybeast at all - to talk to about this, and there was a good listener standing right behind him.
Once again, his paw stroked the scar, and he sighed deeply. There was pretty much nothing for it. He couldn't walk around and carry this secret any longer. Even though he had just recently begun to accept what had happened, he knew, painful as it no doubt would be, that he had to tell Elliot about what had happened all those years ago. He had to open up about that incident that had stripped him of confidence, that had wrested away any shred of self-worth. The vicious assault that had broken his spirit.
"E-Elliot...," he murmured, stammering slightly. "I can't help but wonder - you saw that scar back in Naples, right? Well, did you ever think about how I might have gotten it?" Even as he said the words, the breath caught in the wood mouse's chest, and he felt himself tense up in a highly visible manner. He was practically frozen to the spot. All he could manage was to turn his head and gradually bring himself to meet the beech marten's gaze. "Maybe I should tell you. I haven't spoken to anyone about this before... but I can't keep silent anymore."
He stopped speaking, wondering what his mustelid companion would have to say in response to this. The wound was still throbbing, and whilst the pain he now felt was far from overhwelming, it was something entirely different that set him to crying. The tears began rolling slowly down his cheeks as he thought of the laceration and all that came with it. He needed to speak, even though he knew doing so would cause him a great deal of anguish. He was desperate to get this off his chest, and talk about it freely, something he'd never quite been able to do before - and he was about as ready as he could ever be.
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Post by Ladorak on Oct 19, 2010 12:25:01 GMT -5
Caden watched Spender walk up to them, doing his best to finish off his meal as quickly as possible it seemed. He did a fairly good job of polishing off the eggs, whilst Caden was taking his time. Spender was on his coffee by the time he reached them.
Caden smiled, mostly in an off paw way that was still friendly. He was eager to play...yet suddenly realized he was at a severe disadvantage compared to Spender. His body started to go rigid as Spender asked Caden to choose. Uh oh...he had to choose? But...what to pick?! The few times Caden had played with toys was when he had beaten up the kits who lived in his back alley and stolen all of their stuff, only to have Helandria make him give them back, saying he was a thug, but he warn't no thief.
It was only now that he knew she was trying to keep his identity and location secret from the authorities at Bully. After his mother had died, he was a hunted prize, a valuable hostage to some of the Ministries, but Helandria had kept him hidden from the world until Ladorak had showed up...and Helandria had died.
Ladorak bought him some toys, but he was already eleven by the time the stoat had taken him, and Caden really never lusted after toy shops like younger kits did. Being deprived of a kithood left him numb to the whole idea of playing with toys and games. He would play make-believe in Ladorak's back yard, pretending to be a Welkinite naval captain fighting the Rosferian navy in some of the more famous engagements, like the Saintes, and had even crafted a wooden sword for himself, but he had never played with others. The very idea was foreign to him. He had beaten up others, and was taught to rely only on himself. He had never asked Ladorak to play with him, as he just saw it as weird at the time. The concept of having a foster father hadn't really set in until he'd gotten to sea.
"Um...well..." he was freezing up, his bottom lip trembling as he thought about Spender's suggestions. "S...Spender...I...I never really..." he stammered, flattening his large ears against the top of his head. "I never got a chance to play with others when I was growing up see...because..." and here came the self-deprecation, "what you said 'bout me before...was true." he said, his voice quiet and almost ashamed. "I didn't have a chance to play because I was always on the run or in hiding and well...I...probably wouldn't be very good at picking out something to play with." on top of that, he'd probably pick something that Spender hated, and make the ferret cross with him, ruining this whole idea.
"So...you should probably pick. I just didn't...ever get the chance to play a lot when I was kit..." he said glumly, looking down at the deck and then back up at the ferret. He had chosen to make himself vulnerable, and if Spender decided to attack him over it, so be it. Caden could very well enjoy his off time by himself.
He remembered the last thing Spender had asked him though ,and perked up a tad. "The...book? Yes...I still have that...with my belongings though, so it's way in the stern." he pointed vaguely off towards the back of the vessel, still feeling rather intense shame at what he'd just admitted to.
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Post by bookity101 on Oct 19, 2010 23:23:14 GMT -5
Elle gently activated the herbs in the compress, then knelt to apply it to the bruised part of her mouse friends back. Working quickly, she soon had the compress pressed against his back, and had reached around him to tighten the compress against the mouse's torso when his first tentative query reached her ears.
"Yeah... yes I saw the scar." She made her way slowly around to his front to tighten the binding straps. After she finished, she lead the mouse towards one of the walls, gently pushing him down so they were eye to eye, speaking gently she looked him straight in the eye;
"Talk away mousey, I'm all ears."
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Post by Carrow on Oct 20, 2010 4:29:35 GMT -5
Carrow winced visibly as Elliot applied the compress. It wasn't that he was going about it in a way that caused him pain - far from it in fact - but for some reason his bruised area had begun to feel rather tender and sensitive all of a sudden. He couldn't explain it. Perhaps it was the cold acting on the exposed injury; that was what the mouse put it down to, at the very least.
Now he felt the beech marten take his paw and lead him over to the side of the ship. He followed along obediently. He didn't feel like he wanted to pull away. He couldn't be sure he'd be able to pawdle this all that well, but Elliot's presence soothed him a great deal. He shifted slightly as he was led along, giving the compress the opportunity to settle on his back. The mustelid was going about this the right way, he knew that for certain.
Elliot's voice had sounded strangely distant when he'd addressed the rodent... almost as though Carrow was having difficulty hearing. He'd felt slightly dizzy for a moment just after he'd spoken, and he was struggling to hold himself together. Thinking of this always made him feel weak. As though he were going to faint at any moment. The blood had rushed to his head and he'd seemed to drift from full consciousness for a moment, before coming back to himself.
He felt himself being pulled down to meet Elliot's gaze, and then Carrow did something he never thought he'd ever do to any other creature except Archie. He felt vulnerable, and there was a creature offering him comfort and companionship, standing right before him. So he acted on instinct. Staring into his eyes a moment, the wood mouse put his paws around his friend and hugged him.
Having remembered what had happened in Naples, he was perfectly happy with doing this. His arms remained around his companion for a moment, his whole body shaking like a leaf, before he released him. The tears were flowing freely now, sliding unchecked down his cheeks, the urge to burst out crying in front of his friend being suppressed. He didn't want to start blubbering again - because he was worried he'd exhaust himself and black out, such was the exertion he feared such an act would require.
There was an untapped well of emotion deep inside him, and he tried desperately not to give in to his urges and start blubbering. His tear-filled eyes met the marten's again, and he spoke. "Th-thank you... well... how d-do I explain this. I... I-I... I was... I was basically beaten up and left for dead by a group of bullies, four years ago. They left me bruised black and blue, but those bruises h-healed..."
He gasped for breath as the memories closed in on him like a vice. All of a sudden he found himself fighting for air, but he battled valiantly, clinging on to consciousness for dear life. Things were overwhelming him, there was no doubt about that. "Th-they wanted me gone... they s-said I was no good... that I was b-b-better off dead... and I p-p-probably would have been if they'd known what they were doing...
"They threw me against the wall, but I fell awkwardly and ripped my back open against the rough surface. The last thing I remember is being overwhelmed by pain... and then I woke up at home two days later..." He couldn't see the paw in front of his face, so thick and fast were the tears flowing. "Th-this is why I don't have any confidence... this is why I'm s-shy and w-w-withdrawn... this is why I c... I... I c-can't sleep at night..." He finished speaking in a voice choked with tears, scarcely aware of his surroundings. Lost in the despair that had swept over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him.
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Post by bookity101 on Oct 20, 2010 22:54:56 GMT -5
Elle maintained eye contact with the mouse as he began to tear up. Then was momentarily shocked when she felt Carrow's arms wrap 'round her. Though her shock did not keep her from hugging him back. Her arms went around his shoulder blades, so she wouldn't squeeze the bruises on his back. Then he pulled away, but she was unwilling to lose the small amount of support she could offer.
She felt her heart grow cold as the mouses story unfolded. She had been subjected to physical abuse, every thing that had happened to her had been a type of emotional abuse, though the one time a paw had been raised in anger, she had fallen down the stone steps and had ended up with a scar. Thankfully it was a very thin one that looked almost like she had been clawed.
She removed her pocket hankie and gently blotted the tears rolling down her friends face. There was nothing she could do but be there for him as he cried. When he was finally done speaking, she did the only thing she could, wrapped him in another hug and just held him, waiting for his tears to die down. When they did, she pulled away and held him by the shoulders making sure she kept eye contact with him as she spoke, though she had to clear her throat a couple times to get past the lump that was caused by his story;
"You listen to me Carrow Apodemus, and you listen well." She smiled a little to him, deciding then and their that she would open up to him... well a little. He didn't need to know her biggest secret... that would just be to much on his little shoulders for what was going on that day. "I'm sorry about what happened to you back then. I've been there, it hurts, and the words... they cut deep."
Words... they were something she was all to familiar with. Not that she had ever been the recipient of direct, like he had been. Everything had been indirectly affected.
"I lost my parents when I was only six. I've lived with my aunt and uncle who hated me..." A rueful smile appeared on her lips for just a moment. "...Probably still do come to think of it." She turned around, hiking her own shirt up to showcase her scar. Actually scars. Three thin squiggly scars traced up three inches on her lower back. "Got this when I was.. seven I think." She turned around and tucked her shirt in. "I really don't know what happened, I think I fell down the steps at the back of the house." She shook her head as she put her paw back on his shoulder.
"Let it go Carrow. Those guy's... they can't hurt you anymore. That's all in the past. Look." She pointed to Caden and Selvis. "If either off those guy's hear about this, I'm half certain that they would try to find the beasts who did this and half kill them... The other half of me is certain that they would be the first to say that past is past. And they care about you to much, see." She hooked a claw around the pendants that hung around his neck. They swung lightly in front of the mouse, the magpie and the blue-ish one.
"They care enough to get these for you, they want you to sleep well, so they got these for you. And Elle and I, got you this." She pulled out a book from her waistband. She had bought it in Naples, just before they left the port and she hadn't been able to find the time to give it to him. It was written in Welkin, so he wouldn't have any trouble reading it. It's title was "A Beginners Guide to Hypnosis." It was a really interesting book. At least for someone who never had any exposure to hypnosis. Maybe it wouldn't be helpful to him, maybe it would, but at least it should help him know that they all really did care about him.
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Post by Carrow on Oct 21, 2010 5:13:26 GMT -5
Carrow should have broken down in tears right there and then when he felt his affectionate gesture being returned by his close companion, but he didn't. Quite the opposite, in fact. He tried hard to smile at this contact, and soon his lips curled into a small smile as he felt his hug being returned. It was a gentle embrace that Elliot held him in, but it was enough.
For almost five years, he had carried this burden around with him. Moreso than anything else, it was the root of his depression. When he was at his worst, he could't help from thinking about it, and then it made him wish he were dead. If he had no reason to live, he might well have acted on these thoughts and done himself in. He knew this, and it frightened him when realised he was capable of such a thing.
But then he remembered, as he was held by his beech marten friend, how everything had changed since Whistleminster. He had others there to keep him going. Creatures his own age that he could speak to anything about and not feel ashamed because of his past - because that was how he felt sometimes too. Ashamed... as though it were somehow his fault that his life had ended up this way. He always blamed himself.
Now the weight, the weight of the world, was starting to lift, if only slightly; that was what he'd carried with him every day since the incident, but he was getting sick of letting it drag him down so much. Caden wouldn't have wanted to see him like this; Selvis, too, would have reproached him in his trademark gentle way. As for Elliot, the mouse was unsure what the marten would say.
Neither of them spoke for a moment as the mustelid gently wiped the rodent's tears away. The soft caresses of the pawkerchief had quite a calming effect on the wood mouse. They reminded him of Archie's aaffectionate contact back home. She would stroke his face just like that, and tell him that things would get better someday. He'd never fully believed her, but that was then, and this was now.
Elliot placed her paws on his shoulders, looking deep into his eyes. Carrow couldn't have looked away even if he'd tried. A torrent of emotion had quite literally poured out from him, and now he was left as weak as a newborn pup. Unable to take his gaze from the beech marten's gentle gaze, he listened to his words. "Thank you... i... it means a lot to me to know that some other creature cares...," he murmured.
The field mouse sighed a little as Elliot told him his story. He had been hated too... but by his own relatives. That must have been excruciating. The mustelid lowered her paws and turned around, raising his shirt a little, and Carrow couldn't help but gasp softly as he saw, for the first time, Elliot McNamee's scars. He said nothing in response, merely nodding at what he was told. His next advice resonated clearly with him, however, and he was compelled to reply.
"Oh, I know I should try and move on, Elliot, but..." He gulped visibly. "I'm not sure I'd be able to. I've been waiting almost five years to speak about this, but you must understand that while it is quite liberating to finally have this off my chest, there's nothing I can do to forget it. Sometimes I have nightmares about it. Elliot...," he said gently, clasping his paw, "this is as much a part of me as anything else - but I'll try.
"Caden and Selvis, as you said, they wanted to help me out, and I know they'd want to see me try and get past what occured, if I told them, which I plan to." Caden had been a bully himself, this the rodent knew, but he was also certain that the pine marten had changed. He'd changed, so why couldn't Carrow? "This is a secret I've only kept 'til now because I could never find the words to talk about it. Past is past... you're right. I'll try, for all of you. I know you all care about me, so I'll do my best. I'd do anything for any of you," he told Elliot. Suddenly his heart felt lighter, and he could see his friends as becaons of light in the darkness, lighting him up and making him feel good again. He'd always feel incomplete, that he knew, but now the pieces were being put back together by the glue of close friendship.
The mouse followed the pendant as it swayed before his eyes. He smiled, focusing on the sparkling magpie figure affixed to the chain. That's right, he thought... Archie would want me to do this. I'm sure she had every bit of confidence in me. I just wish I could have taken a leaf out of her book and started believing in myself. Maybe it's not too late. Maybe I can be different. Maybe I can just be... better.
Elliot was holding something out to him now. He took the volume, having listened to him speak, and couldn't help but smile, His eyes were red-rimmed, but they twinkled softly as he met her gaze again. "'The Beginner's Guide to Hypnosis,' eh? He put the book down and hugged the beech amrten briefly again. "Thanks very much for this. I'm going to need it, see; been working on my techniques recently. Archie passed a little of her skill on to me at home, and well, maybe I could go further with it... might get to put you under one these days, eh?," he added mischievously.
"Thanks for everything, Elliot - I owe you one. Talking to you has really helped me, and, much as I never thought I'd say this, things seem a lot clearer now. I'll always be grateful to you for that," he told the mustelid in a soft voice. "Now, how about we catch up with Caden and Selvis? I haven't seen Spender anywhere, but then again he usually likes to keep to himself," he commented, heading back twoards his companions. It wasn't that he minded the ferret's company in particular - not anymore - it was more that he found him difficult to deal with. Oh well, he thought, in for a penny, in for a pound.
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