[Mkguild] MK: The Long Day (3/5)

[Hallan Mirayas]

   Drift twisted his upper body around as he waited in front of Recos'
orphanage, while several acolytes unloaded food from the wagon behind
him.  "You know, Priestess Merai," he said, fiddling with a harness
strap, =93it surprised me that you decided to come along and help out.=94
He looked up at the woman on the wagon bench. "I would've thought you'd
have more pressing duties than this.=94 =


  =

"We're shorthanded today," the feline Keeper replied, leaning forward
with her arms across her knees, looking over the Samoyed taur with the
expression of slightly bewildered fascination she'd had since she first
settled down on that seat.  "And, like you said back at the Temple, it
needs doing."  She looked around at the ruined, desecrated buildings
all around.  How the orphanage had managed to avoid their fate was
still wondered in the rumor mill even now.  "A lot of things need
doing," she continued, a hint of weariness starting to creep into her
voice.

   Drift smiled, one ear tipped to the side in amusement
as he deliberately headed off her melancholy.  "That's true, and we'll
get it done, but are you sure there isn't another reason?"  At her look
of incomprehension, his smile widened.  "Helping out today also gives
you a good seat to stare at a taurform Keeper to your heart's content,
doesn't it?"  He laughed when she dipped her ears, abashed.  "Don't
feel bad.  You've been considerably more polite than most:  at least
you have the courtesy not to point.  I'll admit it's even a little
flattering."

   "You're larger than Misha as a foxtaur," she said after a soft chuckle a=
t herself.  "And thanks."

  =

"That's because I'm taller than him on two legs, too.  And you're
welcome.  I pity Oberon if he ever figures out how to do this.  No
doorway will be safe.  Even I have trouble with them sometimes, and
stairs are absolutely a no-go."

   Merai tilted her head slightly to one side, her brow furrowing.  "Balanc=
e problems?"

  =

"No," Drift replied, shaking his head.  "Size problems.  If they -are-
built to withstand my weight like this, which is rare outside of stone,
it's rarer still that the steps themselves are broad enough for me to
get a foot on.  And don't even ask about spiral staircases or sharp
turns at landings."

   The feline lady smiled.  "That sounds like the voice of experience."

  =

Drift shook his head ruefully at the memory.  "True.  It was the first
time I ever tried this.  I daydreamed my way into taurform on the
library balcony, the one for quiet reading, after having seen Misha,
Fox Cutter, and=85"  He frowned and snapped his fingers near his head
several times as if trying to jog his memory.  "And Misha's rat friend,
whose name currently escapes me."

   "Charles Matthais."

  =

The Samoyed taur held up a finger toward Merai in triumph.  "That's the
one.  Anyway, here I am on the library balcony, my pants lying around
me in shredded tatters," he said, gesturing with both hands in a low
sweep around him, "a chair crushed underneath, and no way down except a
metal spiral staircase."  Drift waited until she finished laughing
before continuing.  "Those stairs groaned as soon as I put two paws on
them, and continued to do so with each step down.  So I'm clinging to
the railing for dear life because the steps were only about half a paw
wide, thinking that at any moment I could lose my footing and go down
it facefirst=85"  He paused, his hand gripping an imaginary rail at about
the height of his waist, his tail swishing in self-deprecating humor. =

"And that's when I realized I was stuck."

   "Stuck?" Merai echoed, almost in disbelief.

  =

"Stuck.  In full view of everybody in the library, trying not to
struggle or even breathe too hard so the staircase would stop making
noises like it was going to wrench out of its mountings at any
moment."  He put a hand to his brow, his white fur showing a blush
underneath around his nose and ears, but he smiled in spite of it.  "I
don't think I have ever been so embarrassed in my life."

   "Couldn't you change back?"

  =

"How?" Drift replied.  "I didn't even know then how I'd changed in the
first place.  Mr. Cutter had to talk me through it, and he was -not-
pleased.  My sister thought it was hilarious, though."  He smiled,
though his voice was touched with a hint of sadness.  "She always did
like humor at my expense."  He shook off the mood before Merai could
comment on it and continued, "I'm just glad I was wearing a long, loose
tunic as well as pants that day.  If it had been a tighter shirt, I
wouldn't have had -any- clothes left."

   Merai leaned back in
the bench, grinning. Her tail curled up into view and she ran it
through her fingers as she spoke.  "Well, all told I suppose I'm rather
glad that I haven't had to worry about such things. It was embarrassing
enough the first time I turned into a cat."

   Drift shrugged. =

"It has its benefits, though.  Strength, speed, and durability.  A
horse could outsprint me, but I'd outlast it without much question. =

Though that's also partly the breed of dog I am."

   "Assuming
you can find enough meat to keep you going," Merai said dryly. "I
wonder if one horse would even be enough to make a meal for you."

  =

Drift's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, to Merai's delight. =

Drift swatted his taur body's side and quipped, "Be quiet.  She wasn't
talking to you."  After that, he started to unbuckle the harness from
around him.  "I can eat other things besides meat, and if I have to eat
in taurform, I try to pick things that are high in energy for their
size.  Potatoes are good, breads and cheeses, too.  Stew is an
excellent choice."  He paused, adjusting the pack on his shoulders,
which contained an extra pair of pants.  "Of course, the more obvious
answer is just to change back first and then eat."  Tugging at an
obstinate harness buckle around his upper midriff, he asked, "Is the
brake set?  The kids are looking pretty eager for their taur-back
rides."  The slight downward slope of the road would send the cart
rolling over the people unloading it if the brake wasn't set.

  =

Merai pulled the brake lever and locked it in place. "It's set."  She
leapt down from the cart to land lightly beside him, reaching for the
jammed buckle. "Here, let me help you with that."

   "It's
alright, I've got-" the Samoyed started to reply, but Merai's smaller
hands evaded his easily and had the buckle loosened with just a
moment's effort.  "Um, thanks."  He glanced skyward when he heard a
distant rumble, and saw storm clouds in the distance, moving closer. =

"Hmmm.  The rides might have to wait for next time:  I'd like to be
back inside before the rain starts.  I'd better help with the
unloading."

   He was about to say more when a terrified whinny
came from up the street, followed by the rumble of wheels and a shout
of warning.  "Look out!  Runaway cart!"  Pulled by a bolting bay horse,
a wagon careened in their direction, full of debris from a building
being demolished up the street.  It bounced wildly from wheel to wheel
on the pavement stones, sending people scattering from its path.
 =

  =

Drift surged forward out of the harness, angling his body to shield
Merai and the other acolytes.  "Get behind me!" he yelled, bracing to
meet the runaway horse head-on.  That didn't stop Merai from ducking
under his raised arm, a shimmering half-sphere barrier rippling into
existence in front of her raised hands.  It spread to shield herself
and the taur just before the horse and wagon ricocheted off it, sending
splintered wood and broken stone in every direction despite the angled
impact.  Drift snatched just past the shield's edge, seizing the
horse's bridle.  Rearing as the horse did to keep his grip, he swiveled
to the left as the horse's momentum pulled him along.  The taur yelped
when he came down on the corner of the wagon, and another yelp followed
as his left hindleg bounced off the wagon seat when he half-jumped,
half was dragged along after.  Once free of the wagon, though, he
planted all four feet and pulled back hard, skidding, and the horse
staggered to a shaky stop after a few more leaping strides.

  =

"Ow," Drift wheezed, switching hands on the horse's bridle so his
stronger right arm could hold the still jittery horse in place while
his left checked his side.  He winced when his hand ran along his taur
chest.  "Ow," he repeated, trying to breathe only from his upper chest
while people converged, a woman running up to claim the horse amid a
fountain of apologies.

   Merai was the first to his side.  "Are
you alright?"  At his quick headshake, she put her hand near his side,
her eyes unfocussing.  "Hold still=85  this might sting a little."

  =

The Samoyed taur grunted and winced as the priestess magically
realigned and knit the cracked rib, but he heaved a sigh of relief when
it was over.  "Thanks," he said, rubbing the area as if to check the
healing for himself.  "I owe you one.  Nice move with the shield, by
the way.  Are -you- alright?" he asked when she slumped with weariness.

  =

"I'll be fine," she said, leaning back against the edge of the cart.
She closed her eyes and rubbed her hands over her arms. "The healing
takes more out of me than the shield does."

   "Good sir!  Lady
priestess!  I'm so sorry!" the horse's owner stammered, visibly
frightened that she might be hauled into court for the incident.  "I
don't know why he ran off like that:  It's not like him at all!"  Her
distress split itself fairly evenly between Merai, Drift, and her horse
and cart, and she ran a hand through her hair as she contemplated the
damages.  "Oh=85  Wait until Max hears about this=85"  Other voices joined
in the growing din, many of them angry, overlapping each other.

   "Damn horse nearly killed me!"

   "My stand's ruined!"

   "-broken window from the flying wood, priestess!"

  =

Drift backed up, not liking so many people so close, where his feet
could crush somebody else's with a single misstep, and the horse was
still too nervous for comfort.  All the people, however, seemed more
intent on appealing to Merai for judgment than acknowledging the danger
presented by either.

   "Drift!" a familiar voice called over
the hubbub, and the Samoyed spotted Wolfram's familiar curly horns
fighting to get through the crowd.

   "I tell you, something must have spooked him!  He's not normally like th=
is!"

   "I don't care if he's gentle as a newborn kitten, he wrecked my stall!"

  =

Wolfram pushed through to Drift's side as the Samoyed taur's
hindquarters backed into the wagon.  "Are you alright?" the black ram
asked.

   "Enough!"  Merai's shout cut through the chaos like
hardened steel just as an arrow shot between Drift and Merai from
behind and above, narrowly missing both, and buried itself in Wolfram's
shoulder.

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