We Have a Predicament

[Maxodis]

"Covered in what I can only imagine is your breakfast, you d**n wasteful brute. I didn't ask t'get thrown into a table either."

"Wasteful? Was savin' tha' jes' fer yew, th' fluids mostly, di'n't know wot y'd be able t'eat when y'woke. Y'think I was askin' fer me one 'n only vest t'be shredded?" The Brute huffed, with a false air of indignity. It had been a good vest, lasted him a few years(which is surprising considering how much abuse such articles of clothing belonging to Redinl endured), and was a color he had liked. Not that there was anything wrong with being bare-chested, the weasel was nothing if not vainglorious. There just seemed to be a sense of freedom that he associated when the rough pull of fabric was absent from his shoulders, a sensation that left him feeling buoyantly energetic. Often though, this energy manifested itself in the weasel in ways that weren't always as well-received by more peaceful creatures.

He arched an eyebrow at Sleet as her relatively tiny paw latched onto his muscular arm, offering no resistance as she began to pull him along.

"And I imagine, in your adventuring while I lay on my death bed, you know where we ought to go."

Redin's features adopted a look of hurt surprise as his eyes found hers. "Yew don't give me near 'nuff credit. I spend days trackin' yew down t'this.... place. I endure their less'n friendly welcomin's, I go through th' time'n effort t' be nice. I change yer clothes so yew c'n sleep better, I sit'n guard 'side your door fer days, 'aven't 'ad a wink o' sleep fer 'least 3 days. 'Leave yew in full confidence tha' ye'll be fine fer an 'our or two and tha's all I 'ear about." He turned away, pulling his arm from her grip and wiping away an imaginary tear. "Don't even get s'much as a thank'ee fer worryin' over ya, when noone else did. Where's tha' idjit brother o' yers eh? Not 'ere!" He turned back to her, his eyes closing for a moment as he took a deep breath, as if to regain his composure. When they opened, his amber eyes gleamed mischeviously. "I'll show ye th' way... but first yew 'ave t'tell me if'n I still gotta be nice t'these muppets."

[lorki]

Sleet let out a dramatic sigh as Redin appeared to go off on a mini-monologue. Rather than listen much to what the weasel was actually saying, her mind wandered over things like food and getting out of this place. It was strange, actually, how great her urge was to just get out. Perhaps it was the general atmosphere of unfriendliness, perhaps it was the fact that Sleet simply did not do well within solid walls or crowded spaces... most likely, however, it was the damn green tunic.

"Don't even get s'much as a thank'ee fer worryin' over ya, when noone else did. Where's tha' idjit brother o' yers eh? Not 'ere!"

She reached back and patted Redin, purposely roughly, "aye, aye. You're my best friend, brave companion, caring and empathetic and thoughtful an' whatnot." She smirked and shook her head, her eyes turned back to look at him in time to catch the growing hint of mischief on his face.

"I'll show ye th' way... but first yew 'ave t'tell me if'n I still gotta be nice t'these muppets."

"What kind'a question is that? Are you saying they don't like you so much? What a pity, Redin. What with this new acceptance thing they've got going, I wouldn't imagine any hypocrisy in a place like this." Her bitterness was more apparent towards the Abbey beasts now, what with Tiraels outburst. He had been the only one she'd ever gotten along with much at all, without his slight influence she could feel her disdain for them growing. "Either way," she continued, more seriously, "jus' keep your mouth shut. They've got plenty of things we don't 'ave and I actually don't want to be spending more time here than need be, let alone time in a cell. Don't get us in trouble, please?"

[Maxodis]

"What kind'a question is that? Are you saying they don't like you so much? What a pity, Redin. What with this new acceptance thing they've got going, I wouldn't imagine any hypocrisy in a place like this. Either way, jus' keep your mouth shut. They've got plenty of things we don't 'ave and I actually don't want to be spending more time here than need be, let alone time in a cell. Don't get us in trouble, please?"

The weasel's expression turned sour, his ears flattening back in disgust with the knowledge that he'd have to continue to remain civil. He didn't mention that the ease of restraining himself in such a way was fading on both fronts: He was feeling the need to be both abrasively rude and uncouth, as well as murderously violent. For the first time in months both his conscious mind and that subconscious Other that he was quickly becoming far more wary of were in agreement. To have such an unexpected if not brief reconciliation ground to a halt silently infuriated Redin.

With this, the normally unpredictable weasel became yet more volatile. All the buoyant energy that had fueled his previous foolishness evaporated in an instant, to be replaced by a dense aura of tension. The fur on the back of his scarred neck bristled as he glared at the smaller ferret. He knew she would be unfazed by such a sight, and that on top of his lack of understanding as to why he was becoming to agitated in the first place served only to irritate him all the more. "Fine." he spat, turning away sharply and stomping a few feet away.

His contained anger dissipated as abruptly as it came, and his shoulders visibly slackened. Internally, the sensation he experienced was something akin to pushing a wall with all of his might only to have the ground open up beneath him. Feeling suddenly decidedly worn, he reached up with his good paw and rubbed his eyes. Had his brows always been this sore from scowling all the time, or had he not noticed it? "Fine." He muttered softly, the fire completely absent in his voice. He gestured with a paw. "C'mon. Passed a room with lots o' tables tha' 'ad food on 'em on m'way back. This way."

[lorki]

Sleet raised her brow at his menacing, her look appeared more patronizing than it did concerned and she turned back to look down the hall, waiting for Redin to gather himself. After a moment she glanced back at him. "C'mon. Passed a room with lots o' tables tha' 'ad food on 'em on m'way back. This way."

"Perfect," she muttered, "I didn't mean t'be so offensive, my caring lovely friend." She huffed a small laugh and followed after Redin. She was eager to eat, more eager to get them out of that place. She felt as if the air around her was turning sour at every turn. She knew very well how Redin handled stress... and that sort of coping simply wasn't socially acceptable. But then again.... nor was, apparently, overturning a table in a friendly wrestling match.

The ferret shook her head slightly, a near death experience was enough for her to feel a bit stressed. It seemed her lovely blossoming friendships weren't doing much to aid her, however.

[Maxodis]

"Perfect. I didn't mean t'be so offensive, my caring lovely friend."

Redin gave no acknowledgement to her words, nor to her brief laugh as they walked down the corridor. Absently he listened to the broken rhythm of their pawsetps, his long slow strides never quite in line with the shorter steps she took. His mind had turned inward, grasping into that empty feeling for something to understand or make sense of. He knew he wouldn't have any success, in a few moments he would give up with a sigh of frustration and be, for all purposes, back to normal. The knowledge of that failure was only marginally less frustrating than its predictability.

His eyes rose as they passed through a shaft of sunlight, colored by an old stained-glass window set high in the wall, and he slowed for a moment to allow Sleet to catch up. Now at her side, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he rolled his shoulder under the dim irritation of the cloth sling. "They ain't gonna let us jes' up 'n leave, y'know tha' righ'? Been 'ere long 'nuff fer everyone o' dem peace-lovin' creatures t'know tha' we're 'ere." His amber eyes turned forward, scanning over the closed-in sandstone walls. They all looked the same. "Peace-lovin' or not, they're bound t'know who yew are, if not wot y'do. Pretty sure tha' big otter 'as an idea 'bout me, an' it ain't nice. They'll prob'bly try t'make us work t'pay off the debt o' 'ealin' yew an'," He gestured with distaste to the sling. "this. Y'know wot they say 'bout keepin' yer enemies close."

[lorki]

"They ain't gonna let us jes' up 'n leave, y'know tha' righ'? Been 'ere long 'nuff fer everyone o' dem peace-lovin' creatures t'know tha' we're 'ere." His amber eyes turned forward, scanning over the closed-in sandstone walls. They all looked the same. "Peace-lovin' or not, they're bound t'know who yew are, if not wot y'do. Pretty sure tha' big otter 'as an idea 'bout me, an' it ain't nice. They'll prob'bly try t'make us work t'pay off the debt o' 'ealin' yew an'," He gestured with distaste to the sling. "this. Y'know wot they say 'bout keepin' yer enemies close."

"Work, pffft." She huffed a bit of a laugh and crossed her arms over her chest, "tough on them, I don't do grunt work. They know what I do, I'd rather take a shot at the lot of 'em than... awh, what the 'ell d' they do anyhow? Damn Abbey. Damn forest. I'm going south when I get out of 'ere. Tired o' this..." Redins words had clearly put her in an even more sour mood, she had this odd urge to kick a wall, her anger was at this god forsaken place, wasn't it? If it weren't for this stinking ugly mass of brick... But, unfortunately, beating on a stone wall just looked foolish.

Without a direct response to Redin, Sleet quickened the pace down the hall. She didn't even want to entertain the idea that they might be stuck here for any greater amount of time. If nothing else, she at least wanted to eat first. The urge to kick a wall returned, "I could get on a boat or somethin'," She added halfheartedly, although even the idea of travel by ship made her stomach shift uncomfortably.

[Maxodis]

"I could get on a boat or somethin',"

The weasel shook his head, hesitating for a moment at an intersection of hallways to try and remember which path was the correct one. With a brief tilt of his head he gestured the right way to Sleet before turning down the corresponding hallway. "Doan be stupid." He murmured softly, his eyes scanning the sandstone brick for any traces of familiar markings. "Yew'd empty yer guts all o'er th' deck five minutes after y'stepped aboard." His eyes caught sight of the stairway leading directly to the dining hall. Now certain that he'd lead them to their destination he stopped just short of the first step, turning to her, his familiar scowl replaced by a look of guarded concern.

"Don't care 'ow well y'think y'feel, yew ain't in any shape t'be goin' anywhere," Redin didn't bother to tell her that she looked like hell. "Th' only other safe place that we've 'ad ain't safe no more. We ain't got nowhere t'go Sleet, don't yew git that? I don't 'ave t'bloody tell yew tha' travelin' through them woods ain't as pretty as it'd seem. Under normal conditions there'd be nothin' wrong with th' thought, but you ain't in a position t'fight an' I..." He paused for a brief moment, his eyes losing their focus, seeming to look through her. It lasted but a moment, and he blinked, appearing almost shaken. "...ne'ermind. Jes'... git somethin' t'eat first, aye? 'Tis jes' down these stairs."

[lorki]

Sleet heard Redin out, but it was not without able glaring, her arms crossed rigidly over her chest despite the aching from her wound. With every word he spoke her expression grew more livid. The two of them had a habit of being one another's worse enemy at times. When Sleet was level headed her weasel companion had the habit of being thoughtless, violent, unpredictable; just in same fashion, his current reasonable requests were met only with her animosity and unrealistic plans. Common ground was an unfortunate rarity for them, particularly when under pressure.

Still, being aware of this did nothing to lighten Sleet's displeasure over the entire situation. She didn't even care to notice his odd behavior towards the end of his little speech.

"...ne'ermind. Jes'... git somethin' t'eat first, aye? 'Tis jes' down these stairs."

"Well thats somethin'..." she growled, turned quickly down the stairway and continued into the hall. She glanced around it, caught sight of Tirael in the back and scowled a bit more. There was no food set out, but the smell of it couldn't be mistaken. She headed to the kitchen, dragging along the stares of a few of the beasts scattered about the tables.

Her appearance at the doorway to the Kitchens caused a mini fiasco all on it's own. A vole effectively launched itself into a wall of cabinets while she scanned the cluttered area. "'scuse me," she muttered while a squirrel took a slow, worried step out of her way. She was well aware that no words would help her barging in, so she simply grabbed and apple and a roll. She looked thoughtfully at a bowl of steaming... something, and after a moment of consideration popped the apple in her mouth, held it between her fangs, picked up the bowl and exited. "'tanks," she managed to mumble with her mouth full.

From there her stroll was less determined, but she made her way over to Tirael and sat across from him. After taking a violent, large bite of the apple she stared across the table at the otter, silently chewing, glowering, and waiting for him to apologize.... or maybe yell and fuss some more.

[Tirael]

Finally, Tirael thought as the duo entered Cavern Hole. He'd begun to wonder if they'd actually just walked out of the Abbey entirely, something that wouldn't have displeased him entirely. His irritation only increased as she made her way through the kitchens; while he still conceded that unfair prejudice would cause reactions like those Sleet was receiving, he knew that she had very likely done much to deserve fear. Certainly, she'd done enough to incite his anger.

He wasn't sure whether he should be surprised that Sleet was sitting across from him. He was her only real friend from the Abbey--an angry friend, but at least not prone to cowering or pulling a weapon on her. He just returned her stare, determined not to be cowed.

After a while, he asked, "Do you want something, or do you just enjoy frowning at me?"

[lorki]

"Do you want something, or do you just enjoy frowning at me?"

She took another large bite of the fruit in her paw. She weighed her options, keeping her dark eyes on Tirael's. She was astoundingly angry at the otter. Perhaps this environment just had a habit of making everyone in it into a bit of a... well, that wasn't a nice thought.

"Wanted to say thanks," she said sourly, gesturing to her arm, "for that, and I was hopin' for some sort a explanation, perhaps compiled together with an apology. 'Less you feel like tellin' me how you really feel 'bout me being in your precious abbey; but really, Tirael, you can keep the haughty, presumptuous arrogance to a minimum." She leaned forward, and lowered her voice, "because, if you really want to know why I act so damn horrible and uncivilized, an' why we live the way we do, you can take a damn good look around you're beautiful little paradise 'ere. Hell, Tirael, maybe even at yourself, because you're not making me want to anything else 'sides go an' break another table." She smirked, leaned back and took another chunk from the apple, "yur turn," she muttered through the mouthful.

[Tirael]

"Wanted to say thanks," she said sourly, gesturing to her arm, "for that, and I was hopin' for some sort a explanation, perhaps compiled together with an apology. 'Less you feel like tellin' me how you really feel 'bout me being in your precious abbey; but really, Tirael, you can keep the haughty, presumptuous arrogance to a minimum."

Tirael found Sleet's description of him as 'haughty' and 'presumptuous' laughable. If anything, she was the one with far too lofty an opinion of herself; the way she was talking now, it was as though she was some sort of saint, and he was about to tell her as much when she continued.

"Because, if you really want to know why I act so d**n horrible and uncivilized, an' why we live the way we do, you can take a d**n good look around you're beautiful little paradise 'ere. Hell, Tirael, maybe even at yourself, because you're not making me want to anything else 'sides go an' break another table."

"Yur turn."

"Oh, your sermon's done, is it?" he asked contemptuously. "Fine. You want to know how it feels to have you here? It's humiliating. I have to explain to everybeast I know why I care about you, why I respected you. A lot mock me for it. And you?" Despite himself, he laughed bitterly. "You joined them. You and your little stunts give them just what they need to keep on believing you're just vermin."

Almost making fun of Sleet's mannerisms now, he leaned forward the same way she had. "And since you've never had any restraint telling me what you think of me, let me return the favor. You pretend you're such a victim, that we're all so mean for being wary of you, but what do you think we should feel, huh? You're rude, violent, and thoughtless, and you obviously don't care much for what few friends you have. If you want to be respected, then earn it, because this 'victim of intolerance' act is just pathetic."

Not once in his life had Tirael ever said anything so intentionally hurtful; nor had he ever wanted so much to hurt anyone. He was furious, and if that hadn't been clouding his mind, he would be terrified by what it was doing to him. Instead, some part of him relished how good it felt to have said all of that; he felt more confident than he had in a long time, and it showed in a faint, contemptuous smirk.

[lorki]

"Oh, your sermon's done, is it?" Here we go, she thought bitterly. "Fine. You want to know how it feels to have you here? It's humiliating. I have to explain to everybeast I know why I care about you, why I respected you. A lot mock me for it. And you?" Despite himself, he laughed bitterly. "You joined them. You and your little stunts give them just what they need to keep on believing you're just vermin."

Oh yes, it's me and them and stuck in the middle is poor little you. She didn't move as Tirael leaned forward other than to take another bite of the apple. Her hunger had disappeared, but possibly having something to clench between her fangs would help keep the urge to lunge across the table to a minimum.

"And since you've never had any restraint telling me what you think of me, let me return the favor. You pretend you're such a victim, that we're all so mean for being wary of you, but what do you think we should feel, huh? You're rude, violent, and thoughtless, and you obviously don't care much for what few friends you have. If you want to be respected, then earn it, because this 'victim of intolerance' act is just pathetic."

For perhaps only a second Sleets ears flicked back, her expression pulled back for a moment from outrage to shock, possibly even sorrow. But the ferret had not lived years in Mossflower on sympathy or sadness. Her shield was the viciousness, the easy to conjure anger, the idea that she should mourn for nothing, want no vengeance, let the world be as it was and accept it. So just as quickly as the expression appeared it was replaced with dangerous hostility.

There was a stretch of silence during which time Sleet considered weather to respond vocally, or leap across the table and tear a hole in the otter with her own teeth. Finally she said, "perhaps you're right, all-knowing otter, maybe you have me all figured out. I'm the only beast capable of violence, of course. The only one that ever does wrong. Look at me, I'm terrible, haven't got a shred of benevolence in me. And on top of being downright evil, I'm pathetic? That's me, is it? Sleet in a nutshell. And friends? Heh... friends, like all the ones that told me I was an idiot for thinking any beast in this Abbey could be anything other than a hypocritical scumbag."

She let out a short sigh, "you know what I think? I think you and yours hate me, you're afraid of me, because I own what I do. I don't hide behind a wall of self righteous nonsense about good and evil to make my actions any less heinous than they are. Do you know how many lives with Abbey has taken? How many beasts the inhabitants have killed? How many family's have been destroyed? It doesn't matter does it? Because they are wrong and you are right. That is why I am so terrible, Tirael, because I don't pretend I am better, or more deserving, or right." Suddenly, Sleet felt foolish. She knew how these conversations went. She knew her arguments were worthless against the dogmatic views of these creatures.

She looked away from Tirael, towards a propped open door at the top of a few steps that led out onto the grounds. Sleet couldn't stand being in there any longer, she felt as if a vein in her head were about to burst out. She needed air... and no more damn brick and stone. She stood swiftly and walked, a bit unevenly, out of the dining hall.

[Maxodis]

"Well thats somethin'..."

After a brief moment's hesitation, the weasel snapped his claws in whimsical failure. Clearly Sleet had no intention of listening to him, but then again he'd known she wouldn't before he even finished, hadn't he? It was written all over her well before he got even a dozen words out. Redin was never one for persuasion: He mostly left that practice to Sleet when it was needed. There were other ways of bringing a creature to see things his way, ways which she was in no condition or mood to receive.

He descended the stairway behind her, but remained at the entrance upon seeing the general reaction to her heated arrival. Leaning his shoulder against the entryway, his eyes scanned over the room's occupants. They were disturbed enough by her appearance, his own would only worsen the situation. His appetite was nowhere to be found anyway.

His eyes joined all the others on her as she sat down resolutely across from the healer. Though their words weren't particularly loud, it had grown silent enough in the room for most of them to reach Redin. Enough to get a rough idea of what was said, at the very least. His tired expression deepened with a sigh as she rose abruptly. Things were never easy.

He finally moved as he saw her head towards the open door at the other end of the room, his footing significantly fleeter and certain, if not just as purposeful as hers as he crossed through the center of the room. His passage only brought a pawful of gasps and startled reactions: most eyes were still on the unsteady ferret as she ascended to the light. He reached her before she had gotten past the first step, silently appearing beside her and pressing a paw to the middle of her back, both for support and to gently urge her to move faster. "Tha' went jes' as well as expected."

[lorki]

The rumble of rage and rushing thoughts did not distract Sleet from the fact that the figure in the corner of her eye she knew to be Redin was moving towards her. Half of her wanted to swat him away as she reached the stairs, but the other half wanted to turn and hug him; what contrary emotions a juice soaked, fatigued, back-from-brink-of-death ferret suffered.

As she began up the stairs she angled her head slightly towards him as he stepped up beside her. Much of her anger dissipated with the light feeling of his paw pressed into her back, a friendly reminder that, perhaps, the entire world did not have it out for her. She took the hint though, gladly, and managed a speedy exit.

"Tha' went jes' as well as expected."

Sleet elbowed the door open with a sigh and stepped out onto the grounds. She seemed to wilt considerably, as if her entire being had been held up by a structure of boiling anger and she had exhausted its use. She appeared quite blank, lacking the normal sharpness and intensity in face and body. She looked down at the browned patches of grass around her, "jus' as well as expected," she repeated, nodding her head slightly in agreement. She raised her eyes to meet Redin's, "surprisingly, I still want to leave."

[Maxodis]

Redin blinked as Sleet pushed open the door before them, the bright sunlight stinging his eyes, which had become accustomed to the comparatively dim hall behind them. He lifted his slinged paw(Without hesitation nor shame) to his eyes, rubbing his eyelids in small circles. He could see bright red flashes behind them before his pads on his fingers had the chance to make contact, and he felt the familiar dull, painless throb of a migraine behind his skull. Like many other things, the weasel did not feel(Or perhaps register) pain when a migraine hit him. Rather, he was often instead overcome with anything from nausea to vertigo to partial loss of his sight for periods of time. This certainly did not seem like a time for such an ailment to make itself apparent.

His sigh was the mirror of hers, albeit deeper and touched by silent frustration rather than weariness. He followed her out, stopping for a moment to quietly close the door behind them. Such an action was not one common to to the weasel's behavior, but he felt the inexplicable impression that having the door closed was as symbolic as it was necessary.

He wasn't entirely certain what she had hoped to gain from the encounter. He wasn't entirely certain of much of anything involved, none had yet had the decency to inform him of the events that had occurred during his extended absence. And yet, Redin had been reasonably sure that the situation would have been better, pleasant even, if they had kept to themselves until they could leave. Just as he'd been aware of this, he knew that such an end result wouldn't occur with Sleet as company.

Whatever she had learned from the argument with the healer, he silently hoped she held no more illusions of making friendly with the locals. There were other things to worry about.

"Jus' as well as expected... surprisingly, I still want to leave."

A wry grin broke out over Redin's features helplessly, and he shook his head. "Ain't 'xactly paradise 'ere, tha's fer sure. Ne'er said I wanted t'stay either..." His expression withered, and he crossed his arms across his bare, scarred chest(Once more without hesitation or shame in regard to the sling), regarding her with the reluctance of one speaking a candid truth. "Still... leavin' ain't smart, considerin'. An' yew know damn well that comin' from me, tha's sayin' alot."