Wildflower Inn

[The Grey Coincidence]

"Not a child," Harlapple muttered, sniffing suspiciously at the honey bread. He turned towards the wildcat called Nyika and after a moment of observation demanded (politely). "How old are you?"

[Mara the Wolf]

"Sixteen," the cat responded.

[The Grey Coincidence]

"And yet none call you a child." Harl pointed out, frowning. He turned towards the otter. "How old do you think I am?"

[Mara the Wolf]

Masika shrugged. "Six or eight. Ten, at oldest."

Harlapple should've been able to see that Nyika was a normal size for a teenage queen, hence why no one mistook her for a child.

(A female cat is called a queen.)

[The Grey Coincidence]

"I am sixteen," said Harlapple with an irritated twitch of his ear.

[Mara the Wolf]

Nyika raised a brow. "Yer pretendin' t' be Cluny. Only kids play dress-up... And you're the shortest 'sixteen-season-old' I've ever seen, ceptin' shrews."

[Crafter Man]

Roughtail stumbled through the forest, constantly grabbing hold of and falling against the trees to keep himself upright.  He pushed himself, stumbling from tree to tree as he made his way inland ignoring the branches that tore at his already worn and faded red coat.  It had been at least half a day since his broken form had washed up on the wet sand.  He had just about given up at that point, saluted Vulpuz, and reflected over his life.  He was glad to have gotten a half dozen kills, not nearly as many as most sea rats his age, but he was content with it.  That's when he had seen land.  He'd thought he must've been hallucinating and in fact he had assumed so, until he was able to sink his paws into the wet sand beneath him.  He'd been so happy then, the moment he realized that he wasn't dead.  Now all he could think of was water, fresh cold water. 

   His throat was dry.  His lips were even drier and crusted with sea salt.  His eyes were still red and sore from the seawater which had irritably washed over his snout continuously when he was floating out in the ocean.  It'd been days since he'd had a drink, and he would probably kill just about any beast for a drop.  His fur was soaked in seawater which was beginning to take its toll as the chilly winter winds began to blow over his form.  Shivering, with vision blurry and mouth dry, it suddenly struck the rat that he had no idea where he was going or why.  Slowing to a halt, Roughtail collapsed to the base of a tree with a raspy sigh where he proceeded to peer out into the distant, quiet forest through half lidded eyes.  He'd survived the open seas, only to die in a forest, shivering pathetically like a child.  At least on the open ocean, he'd have met a true sea-vermin's death, being carried away by the waves.  Here he would rot as the crows picked apart his flesh...

   Sitting there, a sudden determination spilled over the rat.  If he was going to die then so be it, but he was not going to give up until every last ounce of energy had been spent.  Forcing himself to his feet paws, Roughtail reshouldered the crossbow which had slid off and began trekking through the overgrowth once again.  He knew he was on his last strides, but he kept going, if only out of principal.  He was determined to die fighting till the end, it's what his mates woulda expected and it's what he said he would do; of course it's easy to say something, harder to actually do it.  He was so exhausted, so tired that the prospect of lying down and falling asleep seemed so appealing even with the knowledge that he'd likely never wake up again.  He had stumbled through the thick forest for what felt like an eternity, and if he had his wits about him he'd have realized that directly in front of him was a tavern.  Roughtail only caught sight of the building when he was all but on top of it.  If his mind was straight, he'd have scoped the place out, peeked through the windows to see who was inside before barging in, but his throat and the unquenchable thirst it possessed was now in control of his mind.  Making his way to the front door, he barged inside without a second thought. 

His already sore eyes squinted as the fire light from the tavern assaulted them, He raised his paw in defense and growled lightly.  He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, but between the sudden warmth, bright light and a pounding in his head which seemed to have sprung up, the rat's mind began to spin.  Through his squinted and sore eyes, he could make out what looked like a fox and a stoat in the corner of the tavern.  Was that a... Mouse?  It couldn't be a mouse, there were vermin right near it.  Probably a rat... a very small rat.  A couple beasts stood behind the counter, a strange looking fox and an... otter.  They all seemed to be looking at him and the sudden attention made the rat uncomfortable, the situation as a whole was confusing.  What does it matter, I'll take what I need and leave. Drawing the scimitar from the scabbard strapped to his belt, Roughtail began swinging it around wildly and in wide arcs as he stumbled further into the tavern.  "Gimme a drink or I'll gut the lot of yew..."  He had meant it to come out in a menacing snarl, but it sounded more like a weak rasp, a plea almost.  Losing his footing, the rat stumbled to his side and grabbed hold of the counter before collapsing to the floor with a thud.  His world seemed to be spinning and before he knew it, everything was dark. 

[Jarky Thistlebrush]

Isaac, who had noticed the injured rat stumbling towards him and flattened himself against the wall in order to remain unnoticed, pushed the door to the tavern open and stepped neatly over the fallen rat's body with a twirl of his staff. "Greetings to you all. My name is Isaac Farran Tigereye Leaf Dappling Terring Larkington the Fourth, though you may call me Isaac Larkington the Fourth." The small fox bowed and doffed his hat.

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Nitsyok trudged wearily through the thick forest, pushing aside a branch, holding it for his companions to file past and then letting it drop back to it's former position, repeat process three steps later, duck under a slightly higher limb, step over a low bush, carry on. It all seemed to look the same. Where was that stupid inn?
  "There."
  The two younger otters, though one was only younger by a few hours, glanced in the direction Faumyan pointed, pleased to see the twinkling flicker of flame through led-light windows. Romyan grinned and took over the lead position of the group, dodging around tree trunks, pushing a branch out of his way and letting it drop back to shower his companions in water.
  "Hey! Try to keep the noise and discomfort down, Rom. We would like to arrive at the inn not completely soaked from ears to tail."
  Rom sent another cascade of water on them in reply, chuckle at the whispered indignation, then giving in and carrying on quietly.
  The windows were conveniently free of obstructions, so the three otters peered inside before entering. There was a rat on the ground, likely passed out from too much alcohol. He appeared soaked, so maybe someone had tried to revive him with a bucket of water. Nobeast else in the place looked hugely drunk.
  A young mouse at one table wore a scowl that looked to be permanent, but was possibly depended at that moment. An otter, a cat and something absolutely huge apparently ran the place and a fox and stoat sat at another table, with the last beast in the room being another fox who looked to have just arrived.
  The only beast that looked ready to cause problems was the rat, and he was passed out on the floor, so entrance would likely be safe.
  "Watch out for the scimitar the rat's 'oldin'."
  The twins nodded and Faumyan opened the door, his bulk entirely blocking it until he'd stepped through, with the other two otters hurrying in behind him and closing the door.
  Romyan gave the unconscious beast a brief glance, then bent down and scooped him up, balancing his limp form in a chair and passing the scimitar to his brother.
  "Evenin', mates. Mayhap we could grab some water for this 'un. Another good bucketful should bring 'im round."
  Nitsyok shook his head and pushed his friend aside so he could study the rat himself.
  "That's not alcohol, mate, that's sea water. He looks half starved too. Give him some water, then a bowl of soup or something, then a good rest."

[Jarky Thistlebrush]

Isaac turned to address the newcomers, annoyed. "Why, you've simply ruined my entrance! At least warn a beast first before you traipse in and steal the spotlight with all your heroics!" He tried to waltz away in a huff, but slipped in the puddle of seawater around the passed-out rat on the floor and ended up snout-first next to him. The fox rolled over, groaning. "Oh, do get me some soup. And I'm afraid my jacket's ruined!"

[Mara the Wolf]

Well, it's definitely busy now, Masika thought to herself. Things had gone by so quickly, there was barely time to react before somebeast else came in. She quickly shook her head. "Mara, the soup. Nyika, go fetch some water fer tha' rat, then see if'n ye can't wake 'im."

Mara quickly headed into the kitchen as Nyika quickly headed outside towards the rain barrels. Maut helped his fellow fox off the floor. "Clothes are the last thing ye have t' worry about 'ere, mate. Lessee if'n ya hurt anythin' with that fall."

Nyika came back in with a pint of water and headed over to Roughtail and shook him. "Wake up, mate. I've got yer water. C'mon, up!"

Mara came out of the kitchen with two trays of fish stew & honey bread and headed fer Roughtail. "Thank ye mates, but I think we can handle et from here," she said to the otters. "Ya ain't doin' him any good by crowdin' him."

[Jarky Thistlebrush]

Isaac nodded at Maut, dusting off his prized hat. "Clothes are the most important thing in the world, friend. And nothing is hurt except for this wonderful jacket. That filthy rat shall have to fix it up for me once he's recovered."

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Nitsyok moved his hands through the air in a frustrated gesture, shaking his head.
  "You can't just shake him up! He's been however long without nourishment, you need to be gentle! Wet his lips first, make sure his body reacts to the water, then let some more trickle in. But yes, Faumyan, Romyan, why don't you two find a seat and sort out our accommodation? I'll join you in a second."
  Turning back to the huge owner of the inn, Nitsyok produced a small jar of salve from a pocket and gestured to the still unconscious rat.
  "Lots of scratches and such. We should probably check him over for proper wounds, too. This stuff is good for bruising, cuts and scrapes of caring degrees. Need any help with anything?"
  The two otter brothers set about making themselves comfortable at a nearby table, watching their friend with amused expressions. Apparently he had forgotten his tiredness, now that he had somebeast to help.

[Mara the Wolf]

"Nyika, take the other tray over to the new fox, the dandy wit' the ridiculously long name," Mara said. She turned to Nitsyok. "If'n ya think ye c'n help go ahead. Neither Masika or me can handle bad injuries, an' Maut," she gestured to the silver fox helping Isaac up, "an' Nyika never learned, so, we're a bit outta our depth here." The wolf then proceeded to try to gently coax water into Roughtail.

Nyika came over to Isaac with the tray of fish stew and honey bread. "Yer jacket ain't ruined, ya dandy. Jus' leave et outside overnight, beat et a bit t' get the remainin' water out, then use a willow reed t' get any wrinkles out once it's dry."

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Nitsyok rubbed his paws together, nodding eagerly. He wasn't the most experienced beast in the world at healing, but he enjoyed it and, as a consequence, had studied it well.
  "Alright, I'll take care of it. First job is to get some liquid into him, though. Here, just put some drops of water on his lips for a start. He should automatically lick them off, then you can put some more on. Don't let it go too fast or it'll be too much of a shock to his body. I'll check him from the bottom up."
  Nitsyok watched the rat's subconscious search for water, then knelt down and began at the beast's footpaws, checking for wounds, applying salve wherever a scratch or cut needed it, all the time moving closer up the vermin's body, being as gentle as he could, though there would no doubt be a bit of pain involved.