<HTML> Rickkter nodded as he looked over the crowd. The sight of a particular someone caused him to stop his scanning and grin with a most malicious intent. He turned back to the Long and clasped Kershaw on the shoulder. "Well, my friend, I must be off now. I just saw someone I must say hello to. Wish your lovely companion well for me, and thanks again for the ale." "Don't mention it." The two clasped paws, nodding and smiling to each other before heading off into the crowd. "Arag Shuawen!" Charles cringed at the voice that called his name out across the large hall. The greeting was followed up with a traditional southern blessing of holiday well being. He turned to see Rickkter swaggering over towards him, noting that the Kankoran already had a half-finished drink in hand. "Arag Shuawen, sir Charles" reiterated Rickkter as he reached the rat. "Ah, Rick. I suppose 'tis no real surprise to see you here." "Nor I you. You are a Long after all, so it's to be expected. But enough idle banter," said Rickkter as he clasped his mazer, his bushy, striped tail wagging behind him. "I have something to offer you. A gift." "And what would that be?" said Charles. The rat was glaring up at the raccoon, his feelings of hate for Rickkter as strong as ever. "A simple pledge, nothing more. I simply promise that I won't kill you for the duration of this party. It would put an awful damper on the festivities." Charles just glared up at the raccoon, his own contempt clearly written on his features. "Gee. I'm so... flattered by your generosity." The raccoon's cackling laughter caused the rat's ears to go flat. "Glad you are. And if you're looking to return the favor, I have just the thing." He held up his paws, still maintaining a hold on his drink, positioning them so the index fingers were about six inches apart. "It's a metal tube yea long, and when you press the correct spot, it expands to about six feet. I think you know what I'm talking about. You don't even have to decorate it, I'll take it as is. Yes? No?" Charles had his arms crossed before his chest and was giving Rick a look that could almost kill a man. "No? Okay, have it your way. I tried to be amiable, don't forget. Enjoy the holidays then." With a quick, casual salute of greeting, Rickkter melted back into the crowd, but kept close enough to observe the rat's behavior. He had the pleasure of seeing Charles stand there for a few moments fuming, almost shaking in anger, before turning and stalking off. It was most likely to find his betrothed, which was all well and good; she would probably be able to calm him. But to the raccoon, the whole incident was just another small, yet immeasurably pleasurable event in a day that had been going perfect almost from the moment he arrived back. With a satisfied "ah," he went off to meet more of the other guests attending. Watching Rickkter from across the hall, Kayla smiled and sipped at a diminutive crystal glass of some fine liquor, the sweet, almost syrupy drink had a distinctive bite that warmed her throat and belly without the burn of more highly distilled liquors. She never realized until that point how much she missed the luxuries she had been accustomed to when she was moneyed. The fine drink, for example, was a treat she had not indulged upon in almost six years. Lost in her ruminations she did not sense the quiet form standing at her side, likewise watching the crowd. Slightly shorter and more animalistic in his appearance, the young mage Murikeer said nothing for several minutes as he stood nearby, his hands clasped at the small of his back, thick tail swaying lazily behind him. A smile pulled at one corner of his angular muzzle, long white whiskers twitching as he nodded to a passer by. The equine's return nod caught her attention as it was directed close by and she turned her head to see whom had captured the reveler's attention. "Muri!." She gasped in sudden recognition, mildly startled at his proximity. That her own swaying tail had not touched him was only due to his avoiding it. He chuckled softly and smiled to her, inclining his head slightly in greeting. "I'm jealous." He commented as he bowed deeply, flourishing his well groomed tail and one hand before her. "Jealous, Murikeer?" She asked, her voice light as she offered a curtsy in return. "That's not something I would have expected you to say. Of whom?" Muri stood, a smile revealing the white of his teeth as he raised an arm and pointed, "Of him." He said, his finger picking out Rickkter across the hall as he shared a few comments with Charles. "You look absolutely radiant." Kayla beamed brightly, her ears backing as her whiskers flattened against her muzzle with the sudden heat that raced across her face. She felt her tail fluff as it pressed against the back of her dress and she consciously forced it to relax as she looked away for a moment, her eyes settling on Rickkter almost by instinct. She noted that the rat, she knew that they did not get along but not why to any great degree, seemed positively livid. Thinking of angry people she blinked and looked around hastily. "Where's Llyn?" she asked quietly, then quaffed the last of her liqure in one swift swallow, gagging momentarily at the sharp, sweet burn that surged down her throat. Muri's arm swung lazily around to wave an open hand toward a small cluster of Keepers at the beverage table. She spotted the mink, in rather simple appearing attire, speaking with a tall, Amazonian redhead. "I feel as if I came underdressed." He chuckled, "She told me that Misha's parties sometimes got, well, boisterous." Kayla tilted her head as she looked back at him, eyebrows arching at his wardrobe. Far from underdressed, his clothing appeared to have cost nearly as much as Misha's by cut alone, despite being entirely black. He bowed slightly and smiled, the expensive silk shimmering as he held his arms out to either side slightly, "I fear you see an illusion, beautiful. Hidden is far more mundane garb." The skunk explained as he stood from his bow. As if to illustrate his artifice the black suddenly faded into white, swirling away like a single drop of ink in a bucket of whitewash. Kayla blinked at the sudden change as a cloak fluttered from his shoulders and pooled around his bare feet. "Very nice, but what if someone touches it?" "They'll feel simple cotton, unfortunately. I've been working on the touch, but that's not important here, now." He smiled, tail waving lazily, causing the illusory cloak to shift and sway as it split over the root of his tail. "I would like to see you later this evening, after the meal. Llyn and I are going to be attending Father Hough's ceremonies, so she will be changing into her gown once the actual party here has begun." His gaze wandered over to the small group of scouts conversing with Llyn. She was not dressed out of keeping with the festivities, wearing a long burgundy dress that complimented her soft mahogany fur, but she informed him it was a dress several years old, worn for the first time in almost as much time. It was striking, he had to admit, though appeared rather plain compared to the vibrant wardrobe sported by a gray feline in their midst. The cat was definitely a noble, to be sure, as was the red raccoon that stood at her side. "Where?" Kayla asked, interrupting his momentarily wandering thoughts. "In the library. Fox Cutter is hosting a somewhat more subdued celebration for the children, so the library will be open." Kayla tittered and nodded, "The library, of course. Would you be anywhere else, hmmm?" Muri grinned, "Well, there, or in Rickkter's lab, and I think he might not understand why I've hidden things on his shelves." Kayla's eyebrows climbed upon her brow as she cocked her head, "Oh?" "Most certainly, which is why I'd like to see you there." He looked up suddenly and smiled, his eyes drawn once again toward Llyn, who was looking about the hall. He stepped back and swirled away rather abruptly, the white of his cloak fanning out behind him and becoming suddenly a rich, shimmering blue, like a fanciful waterfall from one of the tapestries hanging about the walls. He cast a bright smile over his shoulder as he melted into a nearby knot of dancers with a flick of his lushly groomed tail tip. Kayla shook her head slowly as she saw him emerge from the other side of the dancers and smoothly intercepted Llyn as she stopped to converse with a slender, thickly furred canine of some sort. "Okay," She mouthed as she turned her attention back toward Rick, only to find Caroline moving toward her with a group of other Keepers, intending to make introductions. ** Excerpted from the journal entries of Jacob T Fox January 27th, 708CR. It was cold, glorious winter. All around was a thick covering of snow and ice, the wind howled like a dire wolf in the noon time, and above the storm clouds were gathering for an another blasting. I was in bliss. Most would consider me insane and I most likely am, but my thick fur and my spirit of adventure were called for days like these. A mist of heavy white rushed out from every breath, but I felt as if I was born for this storm, as if a hidden destiny was waiting for me. When I changed to my present form no one knew what I was. My muzzle was shaped like a fox's, but the coloration of my fur was unlike anything seen. I was neither red nor gray. Most at first glance would see me as black, but upon closer inspection, my fur is a deep royal blue. It would lighten in the summer, unfortunately not enough to make the summers bearable, but I am a bit of an unknown. Not even the great wisdom of the Keep, at least their books, knew what I had become. Sad, but most don't notice. Most are too busy surviving in our little town. I hadn't been this happy in a while, but I see the misery of those who aren't built for the cold. They bundle into a coat of fur and hide in their homes, hoping for a quick snow with a very warm spring. Last winter was a warm adventure for me in which I nearly drowned in a pool of mud that seeped into my father's home. I doubt that will happen again. Around the base of my home now is a lining of stones stacked tightly so nothing can get in. That was far from my mind, for this is a time of celebration. It's wintertime. Walking down from my home and around the bakery, which was closed, and an inn, which was shut tighter than the purse of the local noble, was The Tavern's Hearth. I saw a light and knew someone had to be emptying the shelves of Myra Tavernsmith's pub. Quickly, my hand reached for the door and to my surprise only Myra was in. It was not even time to eat dinner and the room was empty. Looking up from her counter, Myra was shocked to see me. "Jacob, only a fool would be out in this weather." She said with no offer of an apology. I placed my satchel of badger hide down next to the closest table and raised my hands to the air. "I am a fool, I do not doubt that but where is everyone? I would expect at least Terrance Waters here, that swine's life blood is ale." "It is the Yule time, Jacob. Everyone is either in the Keep with Father Hough, the Lightbringers, or home with their family." I nodded, understanding that this was a time for both faiths to be celebrating, but my heart lost faith a long time ago, and those who I would celebrate with are gone to those gods I no longer believe in. Dropping down my snow covered hood, I sat at the counter and looked straight at the woman who once was a womanizer who spend more time looking after his many loves than on his family bar. "Why aren't you with the others in the Keep?" "I could ask the same of you." I said, with a raised eyebrow. "My family is in the back room, enjoying a turkey dinner I personally hunted with my son." I smiled at the sight of Myra, a seductive brown haired woman who once was a man, hunting with her equine son. "How is Alan today?" She placed her hands on her hips and Myra's slight smirk turned into a frown. "Don't avoid my question, Jacob. Why are you here?" "What family do I have? I was a son, Now I am nothing. My father lays in a mass grave for the martyrs of the Three Gates War, my mother is dead along side him. The religion I humbly served from back stabbed my mother and I, leaving us for dead. I am alone. My friends are my family now, but they celebrate with those I hold a great deal of discontent." Myra turned her eyes to a far distant place in the air. "You could join my familyâ€¦" "No. I was just going to play outside, but now my memories are calling for me." "Then let me give you a gift." She gingerly pushed off the counter and grasped at an old jug. Myra's small hands removed the cork and she took a whiff of the concoction. "Jacob, this is an old wine. I am somewhat afraid what it may taste like, but it is very special, and it should ease any pain your heart may have." I laughed and the permeating scent that came from her bottle was that of lilacs and myrrh. If the smell was any hint of the taste, then I was in for a treat. "Thank you Myra." I smiled but I knew it was a snarl and looked down to hide it. "You may have given me what I needed this holiday." I wiped the decades of dust off the brim, and I still could almost feel the scent that's how strong it was. In the background was the chatter of Myra's family. Alan talked about tracking the trails, looking for a meal this night, being lucky to find the large tom in a cruel winter. Myra's wife, Troy, laughing with him in his goose like laugh. I watched the joy from the crack opening of the back room door. I didn't know if I had sighed or not, but Myra saw me watching. "Please Jacob, join us." Without looking, I nodded and walked around the counter and entered, shutting the door behind me. At least I wasn't alone today. End part 6a </XMP> </HTML>