The Right ReasonsFinnick’s tail swished against the deck as she put her front paws up on the side. Reaching for the edge of her line, she pulled it back up in her teeth, using a paw to guide it. The deck she threw her fish-filled net onto was bathed in sunlight. Squinting, she gazed up at the sails of the Razor Wind. Different ship; same job. Finnick was a white otter with black and grey markings, and, just a few short months ago, she was employed by the Slimy Oyster, a grimy fishing ship with a beaten down crew. They worked long hours and made very little. Finn had been sorting through the day’s catch when they arrived. There was a deafening boom, and the ship devolved to chaos. There were coworkers running to and fro, and pirates herding them into corners with swords and shouts. Finnick was knocked to the ground by one of her crew mates and looked up just in time to see one collapse as though he’d died instantly. In a desperate bid to get away from the fighting, Finnick had darted across the gang plank and into the only quiet place around - the empty other ship. There, she hid amongst their crates and sat frozen in fear for hours, When the boxes were eventually moved aside and she was discovered, they were nowhere near her original ship anymore. Just like that, whether she wanted it or not, the Razor Wind was her new home. The crew kept her in the brig for a short while before they eventually let her do odd jobs here and there. Swabbing the deck, cleaning the bunks. But, once they’d discovered she could fish, it became her full time job. Turned out, the Razor Wind had been raiding a fishing ship for a reason - none of her crew knew how to fish, at least not well enough to feed themselves. Finnick wouldn’t have said she <i>loved</i> her new job. It, so far, had mostly been fishing, which she was <i>good</i> at, but wasn’t precisely <i>fulfilled</i> by. She could tell her new crew mates didn’t think she was cut out for pirate life. And, to their credit, Finn didn’t exactly think she was cut out for it either. She wasn’t cut throat enough for plundering. She wasn’t confident enough for swindling. She was clumsy and panicked in the face of danger. Yet, something seemed to be keeping her on the Razor Wind all the same… There was a tap on Finnick’s shoulder and she turned to find Talisminn, their fearless captain, standing behind her. Finnick felt her fur stand on end. <i>“C-Captain!”</i> Aliss hadn’t been what Finnick had been expecting for captain of a cutthroat pirate ship. She was a little shark-wolf — with a velvety pink coat, gorgeous blue eyes, and thick, dark lashes. She had large, pointy ears that sat forward on her head, hooding her expressions, and a messy waterfall of bangs. She had a rough blue shark tail that swished behind her as she walked. “I want you to accompany Shen and Shrimpi in town today,” Aliss began, cooly, “if you’re going to be a part of my crew, then you need to learn how to offload our plunder.” <i>“Aye!-”</i> Finnick inhaled so quickly, she choked on her own spit. She shakily saluted as she lowered her head to cough. <i>“Aye-aye, Captain-”</i> She choked out. Aliss gestured with her nose towards the back of the ship. “They’re in the storage room gathering supplies. Why don’t you join them? Shrimpi will tell you the rest.” Finnick nodded weakly and padded off in the direction of the ship’s storage, her head hung low in embarrassment. By the time the Razor Wind had docked, the market was bustling. Children ran underfoot, vendors shouted - competing for the crowd’s attention - and carts hustled back and forth. “We like to come when the market is busiest!” Shrimpi continued to explain, looking back over her shoulder at Finn. She was a little pink shrimp cat with a long whiskers and a chitin tail. “It’s easiest to slip in and out unnoticed.” Finnick nodded nervously. “What are the Captain and her first mate up to…?” “Oh! Those two are usually off doing more important stuff. But, that’s okay! <i>We’re</i> doing the fun job!” Shrimpi said. Finnick glanced at Shen, Shrimpi’s fiancé. He was the ship’s navigator and very quiet. At least… he didn’t speak much to Finnick. His fur was blonde, yet he had bright blue jellyfish-like skin on his chest, ears, and fish tail. She caught his eye and he looked back at her with what Finnick could only interpret as polite disdain. Shrimpi stopped near the edge of the market and Shen threw down a crate, which both held their wares and they’d also use as a table. “For the next two hours, you, my friend, are Finnick - saleswoman extraordinaire!” Turned out, the “Saleswoman extraordinaire” was extraordinarily <i>bad</i> at offloading the plunder. Finnick didn’t know what to say or how to get people’s attention. “E-excuse me, sir?” The man kept walking. If he heard her, he gave no indication. “Ma’am, can I interest you in some of our wares…?” Finnick asked another passerby, holding up a metal contraption. The woman frowned. “What on Earth is that?” Finnick looked down at the metal in her paws. She actually had no idea. “Uhm! I!- Well?” Shrimpi bounded between them. <i>“This</i> little baby is one our high ticket items! You have a good eye, my friend!” She took the contraption from Finnick’s paws. “It’s a great multipurpose item from far foreign lands. It can help with gardening, cooking, cleaning - you name it!” Finn backed away from her mess, stumbling right back into Shen. He gave her a look. “…What??” Finnick asked. “I didn’t know what it was.” Shen flicked his ears back in annoyance. “Neither does she.” He hissed, his voice low. “You’re selling them a performance, Finnick - not a product.” Finnick watched Shrimpi regale a gathering crowd with all the amazing things that strange hunk of metal could do, her whole body seeming to tell the story. Shen shook his head. “Just get some more supplies from the crate, would you?” Padding over, she found a strange man inspecting the crate. Finn cleared her throat. “Can I interest you in some of our wares, sir?” “Perhaps…” He said. “A lot of these items aren’t from here. Do you and your friends travel much?” Finnick nodded. “Yessir. We just docked today. We won’t be in town long.” “I see…” Aliss and Flapjack had already returned by the time Finnick climbed back onto the boat. She was exhausted and felt hapless. Then, Aliss smiled at her and she stood up straighter. “How was her first day?” Aliss asked once they’d set sail. “Oh!” Shrimpi began, “it was!- Well…” Flapjack, the ship’s first mate, leaned around Aliss to look at the crate Shen dragged in. “Doesn’t look like you sold much.” “We were too busy saving Finnick’s sales to make much of our own.” Shen explained curtly. Finnick opened her mouth, looking for the words to defend herself. Then, the Razor Wind shook, knocking them all to the ground. “Pirates!” A familiar voice called, “You are under arrest by royal decree! Prepare to be boarded! Do not try to resist!” Finnick looked over the edge of the Razor Wind to find another ship fast approaching, and the strange man from the market on its bow. Their gangplank landed on the deck and members of the royal armada flooded onto the ship. Finnick turned to run, and saw Shrimpi bounding between attackers, causing them to hit each other as they tried to capture her. Shen slapped fighters with his tail, and the little stingers in his skin caused them to collapse. Flapjack fought off several attackers with a sword, with even his seagull, Mimi, pulling at the raiders fur and pecking their heads. A large man with a sword rushed towards Finnick and she bolted, weaving around barrels and fighters and crates. Then, her ankle tangled in her net, causing her to thump to the ground so hard she thought she may have cracked teeth. Finnick braced herself for the slash of steel, closing her eyes tight. And then… nothing. There was the sound of blades clashing and Finnick tentatively looked up. Aliss stood over her, holding a sword handle in her teeth and valiantly fighting off Finnick’s assailant. She stood close enough that Finnick could smell the salt in her fur and feel her heavy breathing. There was a steely determination in her eyes. Before Finnick knew it, the other crew was retreating back to their ship, the pirates herding them back in that direction. After they were gone, Flapjack, Shen, and Shrimpi celebrated with congratulations and shouts. Finn stood shakily. “We did it..!” She shouted half-heartedly. The three stopped cheering, giving Finnick a cold look. After a moment, they all turned away from her. Shrimpi gave a very weak smile and opened her mouth, clearly trying to say something - anything, really. But, after a moment she closed it again, shaking her head and walking off. Finnick pinned her ears back. She couldn’t take it. She clearly wasn’t meant to be a pirate anymore than she was meant for any of her other meaningless jobs and she was tired of feeling like a moron. They could take her back to shore or execute her or whatever it was they did with former crew mates. She was done. Finnick turned to go find the Captain, only to thump right into a velvety-furred chest. She stumbled back and Captain Aliss watched her quietly. “…Are you alright?" “C-captain!?-” “You snagged your leg pretty bad on that rope. Let me see it.” Taking Finn’s hind leg carefully in her paws, Aliss inspected her sore ankle. Finnick wondered if the Captain could feel the heat radiating off her fur. “It might be sore tomorrow.” They made eye contact; Finnick’s heart skipped several beats. “Are you okay?” “I-I’m fine.” It didn’t hurt anymore. …Had it ever? Finnick wasn’t entirely sure. “I’m sorry, Captain! For all the plunder I didn’t sell a-and you having to save me!” She looked away shamefully. “All of it…” Aliss shook her head. “We haven’t taught you any self-defense, or what to do in a raid, so this is really on us.” She gave Finn a slightly teasing look. “Especially considering how you ended up on the Razor Wind in the first place. We knew how you reacted to conflict.” Finn flicked her ears back and looked away in embarrassment. Aliss’ teasing smile faded. “Are you sure you want to be here? This isn’t for everyone.” Finnick watched Aliss quietly, trying to find the words. How did one tell a pirate you quit? How did one look into those blue eyes and <i>ever</i> tell her no? Eventually, Finn just nodded. “It’s not for everyone, but it is for me, Captain.” That something keeping her on the Razor Wind nodded. “Very well…” Finnick’s tail swished against the deck as she put her front paws up on the side. Reaching for the edge of her line, she pulled it back up in her teeth, using a paw to guide it. The deck she threw her fish-filled net onto was bathed in moonlight. Sighing, she gazed up at the moon. Fulfilling or not, it seemed fishing was the only thing Finnick was truly good at. Flapjack drifted up beside her just as she cast out again. “Lovely night,” he said. He put his front paws on the side of the ship, looking out over the dark waves. “Uhm… Yeah, I guess so.” Finnick mumbled. She couldn’t look at him. Whatever he had to say about the mess she’d made today, she just hoped it’d be quick. “You know, Finnick? I’ve known Aliss a long, <i>long</i> time. We grew up together, actually. Being a pirate was her first love. In some ways, I think it’s her <i>only</i> love.” Flapjack gave her a look and then sighed. “Have you ever done something you loved so much, you thought it was your calling?” Finnick had had countless jobs. She had hated all of them. “…I don’t really think I have a calling, sir.” Flapjack shook his head. “Ah, everyone is meant for <i>something.</i> Being a pirate requires dedication. We give up a lot to ride these waves and seek our adventures. It’s… not for everyone.” Flapjack put all four paws back on the deck, turning to look at her fully. “It’s a great sacrifice and you should make sure you’re making it for the right reasons.” He looked in the direction of the captain’s quarters before turning his attention back to Finnick. “Do you understand me?” Mimi swooped down, landing on his back. Finnick nodded. Flapjack turned away from her. “Think about it, okay?” He walked off, leaving Finn to her fishing, the only light on the deck coming from the window on the Captain’s Quarters’ door.trophyThe Chromozerda in the CrystalThe morning of the Spring Ceremony was always filled with energy and excitement. Chromozerdas scurried back and forth with flowers, fungi, feathers, and beautiful stones. The agile, fox-like creatures had fur of all colors - brilliant reds, purples, and every color in-between. Their pointed ears were rabbit-like; yet their feet ended in small hooves. The creatures used the items they carried to make a ring of color around the outside of the grove at the center of their covert. In a nearby den, others used their hooves to crush berries, and flowers, and soft rocks into powders and dyes. It was a vibrant feast of color. Though unknown to most of the world, chromozerdas were responsible for all of the colors in it. The strange animals had almond-shaped skulls that ended in a heart-shaped nose. They had no need for jawlines, as they sustained themselves on the color wavelengths of the objects around them, which they absorbed through their fur. Primary and secondary colors were absorbed and released as tertiary; tertiary colors were broken down and released as primary and secondary. Alpenglow returned to the covert with orange blossoms grasped in her prehensile tail. The dark brown, nutrient rich soil was still clinging to the roots from where she’d ripped them from the ground. She was small, with a dull, dusty lavender coat. The vibrance of a chromozerda’s coat showed their strength and health. Their coats turned dull when they were sick or malnourished. But, Alpen’s had always been dull. All her life, she had been told that was why she was so much smaller than her siblings. She was simply born wrong. Alpenglow placed her flowers in the ring; then shouldered past the vines shielding the entrance of a den. The divining prism sat in the center of the room - a clear, highly reflective crystal that the elders received signs from. Alpen examined her dull, desaturated coat in the crystal’s surface. Long ago, the gods of Rain, Light, and Change banded together to create the chromozerdas - to bless the mortal realm with the gift of color. But, Change - being as flighty and unpredictable as he was - betrayed his sisters and tried to destroy the very species they’d created. They said that Change, having only a coat of grey, black, and white, had grown jealous of his vibrant children. Thankfully, his sisters banished him, saving the spectrums all over the world. Though, it was believed Change was always lurking, ready to poison the spectrums from within, and that he’d mark his subjects with desaturated colors. Alpen’s ears flicked back as her eyes scanned her pale coat, the white splotches on her face, and the dark stripe on her tail. The colors in her coat - the desaturated lights and darks - they were the marks of Change’s influence. She hid her tail behind her legs so she wouldn’t have to see it anymore. Having dull, desaturated colors not only was the mark of a frail chromozerda, but an unholy one. She was simply born corrupt. She could see two chromozerdas walking past the den in the crystal’s reflection. They had used chalk to further saturate their fur and wore complimentary colored flowers and feathers. It was a tradition to accentuate one’s best features for ceremonies. Alpen had no “best features,” she would simply have to settle for covering her worst ones. She turned to the purple chalk and began to scoop it with her tail, trying to make herself look presentable. <i>“Alpenglow?”</i> Ruby’s voice rang in her head. As chromozerdas had no mouths, they used telepathy to communicate instead. <i>“Ramalina’s spectrum has arrived.”</i> <i>“Can you help me cover the stripe on my tail?”</i> Alpenglow grimaced. <i>“You know it’s my worst feature…”</i> When she finally looked up at her former mentor, Alpen saw a face she knew all too well. The older chromozerda’s ears were pinned back, with her eyes squinting, and her brows furrowed. It was a look of pity. <i>“Alpenglow… You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.”</i> Alpenglow felt her skin turn to ice, her fur standing on end. <i>“Something I’m not? I’m just as pious as everyone else here. I’m just as <b>worthy</b> as everyone else.”</i> <i>“I didn’t mean it like that, Alpen… I just think you shouldn’t have to-”</i> <i><b>“Really?</b> Because it sounds like you don’t want me to <b>look</b> as faithful as I <b>feel.”</b></i> Alpen stood up, determined to stand her ground. <i>“Maybe… maybe my coat is a test from the gods! To shun Change’s mark. Did you ever think of <b>that?!”</b></i> She raised her tail, letting her fur harden into spikes - a chromozerda’s main weapon. <i>“Alpen…”</i> <i>“No! You didn’t! If you just came here to accuse me of blasphemy, then you can leave.”</i> Ruby straightened - her shoulders tall; her tail swept up. She looked as though she was about to give Alpen the lecture of her life. Alpenglow braced herself. Then, the fight seemed to leave Ruby just as it had come. Her shoulders sagged, her tail dropped, and she huffed softly through her nose. She padded out of the den without a word. Alpen dropped her own tail, relaxing her fur. Ruby was dark red, but she was a brilliant, saturated red. And, so long as you were saturated, it didn’t really matter how dark (or light) your coat got. Ruby would never understand what it was like; her experience simply wasn’t the same. She felt horribly sorry, though. Ruby had always been there for her. Maybe she’d overreacted. She made a move to go after her when a new voice rang in her head. “If it isn’t my little raincloud!” Alpen sank down into her coat, feeling grayer than ever. She tried to cover herself with her chalk-coated tail. But, she forced herself to perk her ears - it wouldn’t be right for him to see her sulk. <i>“Lichen!”</i> Lichen bounded towards her. He had a dark teal coat with a brilliant, seafoam green chest. He was gorgeous and confident. He was the son of Ramalina, leader of their neighboring spectrum. And Alpen was his to-be. They were to be bound next spring as mates, uniting their two spectrums. It was a political agreement, of course. But, of all the chromozerdas in Alpen’s spectrum, he had chosen <i>her</i> to be his mate. Nobody seemed to understand why. <i>“Need help putting your chalk on?”</i> Lichen asked, looking her over. <i>“Yes, please,”</i> Alpen sighed, relieved to have some help. Lichen helped her cover the dark stripe under her tail and dusted chalk onto the white splotches on her face, saturating her coat and covering her least desirable features. Once he’d finished, he turned her back towards the prism. <i>“Look at that clear sky! Not a grey cloud in slight!”</i> He wrapped his tail around her back. <i>“Aren’t you beautiful?”</i> Alpenglow examined the saturated purple stranger, who stared back at her with her blue eyes. She wanted so badly to believe that lie. Lichen placed a yellow flower behind her ear. <i>“And look! The sun has come out.”</i> He beckoned her with his tail, tugging her forward. <i>“Come on, darling. The ceremony is starting soon, and you know I have to walk out there with my to-be.”</i> There were nearly a hundred chromozerdas in the grove by the time Alpen and Lichen walked in. She pressed close to his coat - the spectrum was kinder to her when he was around. She saw Ruby in the crowd, but she either didn’t notice Alpen or was ignoring her. Ray and Ramalina, the leaders of their two spectrums, stood on a stump and raised their tails until a silence fell over the crowd. <i>“Thank you all for being here,”</i> Ray began, <i>“the union of our spectrums makes us stronger. Another harsh winter has ended, and, as the plants have provided for us throughout the cold, we must now provide for them.”</i> <i>“Take the energy from the items you’ve gathered and use them to provide energy anew,”</i> Ramalina ordered. As one, the crowd began to pull color from the ring around the grove. The items turned grey as their coats seemed to glow with color. For a moment, the crowd held the energy. Then, together, they released it to the trees and bushes in their covert, which exploded with dark leaves and colorful blossoms. Petals drifted down to the crowd as the trees shook. Alpen stared up at the yellow pollen raining onto her snout. She turned to Lichen, but he’d moved away to speak with others. She caught a glimpse of her tail as she turned. Even under all that chalk, she could still see her dull stripe. She would never be the chromozerda in the crystal… Seasons later, Alpenglow, no, <i>Penelope</i> stood on a dry, overgrown lawn. She had shed her name when her spectrum had cast her out. Lichen hadn’t been enough to raise her social status - in fact, he hadn’t even fought for her. No amount of chalk could change what she was. In some ways she found what had happened to be inevitable. She placed flowers and rocks around a single, scraggly bush behind a house that could desperately use a power wash and a new coat of paint. August, a blonde teen with the worst cowlick anyone had ever seen, sat on his knees beside her, placing colorful marbles in the grass. As a seer, August was one of the few humans in existence that could see chromozerdas as they really were. He’d found her and took her in after her spectrum had cast her out. Most days she tried to forget the spectrum, but the Spring Ceremony had always been special to her. She could never do the whole backyard by herself, but she could certainly do one bush. Having emptied the bag of marbles, August frowned at the ratty-looking shrub. “Won’t it bloom on its own?” Pen bumped August’s thigh with her shoulder. <i>“Of course it will. But, this is more fun. You’ll see.”</i> Penelope trotted over to the sidewalk chalk August has bought from the dollar store earlier that morning, crushing the purple stick beneath her hooves. “Penelope?” Pen turned her head to look at Domanic, who put the flowers he was holding into the pile without breaking eye contact. “What are you doing?” Domanic was a poppet-demon. He had pale yellow fur - nearly white - with black markings, rabbit-like ears, and twin tails. If her spectrum had seen him, he would have been a sign of the apocalypse. Penelope was quiet for a moment. <i>“…Just coloring my fur.”</i> She dabbed up some of the dust with her tail, watching the way the dust was displaced very intently. She could feel Domanic’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t look up. A part of her worried once she explained that Domanic would suddenly realize how dull she was - that he’d care. <i>“It’s a tradition during ceremonies to accentuate your best features.”</i> “Oh. Why didn’t you say so?” With a zipping pop and a flash of light, Domanic teleported out of the yard. Penelope felt her ears slowly lower. She realized she has secretly been hoping for more. For him to say something in protest. Something about him leaving made it worse - it was familiar and the wounds felt so fresh. She turned back to the chalk just as there was a new zipping pop, Domanic appearing right in her face. She tried to stumbled back, but Domanic was tying something around her neck. She craned to look once he let go and found a powder-blue ribbon around her neck. “Your eyes are, by far, your most beautiful feature,” Domanic explained. “…If we’re strictly speaking physically, of course.” Pen didn’t know what to say. She stared at him for a moment; his purple eyes were also bright against his dull coat. She rubbed some of the chalk on her tail down the bridge of his nose. <i>“…Your eyes are your most beautiful feature too.”</i> Domanic shrank back in shock before he closed his eyes, turning his nose to the sky. “Demons don’t have beautiful features. We’re fearsome.” “Well, I don’t know about fearsome, but you’re definitely not beautiful,” August said from across the yard. <i>“Silence Seer!”</i> Domanic snapped, glaring over his shoulder at August. After a moment, his fur flattened and he turned back towards Pen, blowing the chalk dust off her tail. “You don’t need that.” She almost protested. But… then she quietly wiped her tail off in the grass. Scooping the chalk bucket up with her tail, Pen carried it over to the bush. <i>“Okay. Are we ready?”</i> Domanic leaped up onto August’s head to watch as August grumbled in annoyance. Huffing in amusement, Pen turned to the bush. She readied herself into a stance so familiar and stole all the color from the objects piled in front of the bush before shooting it back into the plant. Leaves burst from the branches as red-orange blossoms bloomed all over. It wasn’t a spectacular shower of pollen and petals, but it was a beautiful burst of color in the rundown yard. The boys applauded, causing Pen to turn towards them. She caught her tail out of the corner of her eye as she turned. Somehow, it looked more vibrant than ever - just as it was.trophyA New RumorThe door to the antique shop whined on its hinges as Talisminn opened the door. The dusty shop was filled with the sound of whispers. Talisminn’s pointed ears flicked, her pink coat bristled, and her rough blue tail swished as she padded across the floor - she loved a good mystery. She found them at the back of the shop, right near the counter and huddled in together. Casually inspecting the wares of the shelf, she slowly drifted closer to the group. Her ear twitched. “But, didn’t you hear about the Wive’s Tail?!” One of them hissed urgently. “They say it sank off the coast of Allspyne.” “I heard the Razor Wind sank it!” Another replied. “Allspyne?! That’s not far from here!” The third replied in horror. “What if the Razor Wind comes here?! We’re so close to shore!” “What’s the Razor Wind??” A new voice asked. “You haven’t heard?! It’s a pirate ship!” The second voice explained. “Almost no one who encounters it lives to tell the tale. No one even knows the Captain’s name!” Talisminn could hear the floorboards creak as the owner of the voice leaned in. “They just call him the ‘King of Terror.’” The final member of group scoffed. “The King of Terror isn’t real. He <i>and</i> the Razor Wind are just a scary story for pups and kits. You don’t really <i>believe</i> that?” “Oh no! He’s real!” The third voice insisted. “My father’s cousin knows a guy who worked with a guy who had a run-in with the King of Terror himself! Lost a paw! Barely survived!” “I heard he was 6 foot tall at the shoulder, 9 foot from nose to tail-tip, and <i>all</i> muscle.” “Please, <i>no one’s</i> that big.” <i>“I</i> was told he has three rows of teeth! <i>All canines.”</i> <i>“Well, I</i> heard a rolling fog follows his ship <i>everywhere.”</i> Talisminn flicked her ears back. Her long shark tail swished on the dusty floor behind her as she lifted onto two legs to delicately inspect one of the books on a high shelf, a paw resting on one the shelves below to support her weight. “I heard the Captain of the Razor Wind drinks blood.” Talisminn said. She shot a glance back over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes so her sharp lashes stuck out like knives. The gaggle of townsfolk had all frozen to look at her. <i>“Surely not!”</i> The first one shouted. “No, no! I heard that from someone else too!” The second one insisted. Returning all paws to the floor, Talisminn pulled the book from its display. It was a guide to runes, and she found the contents intriguing. She carefully placed the leather backed book on the counter. “Just this, please.” The woman behind the counter flipped through it. “Ah, runes.” She was the owner of the final voice. “Lots of religious travelers believe these things hold cosmic power. Are you a vagabond?” Talisminn smiled cooly. “You could say that.” “Two silver.” Talisminn reached into the bag draped just behind her dorsal fin and dropped the coins on the counter. She made eye contact with the store owner. “I’m sure you’re right - the rumors of the Razor Wind are probably heavily overblown. But… they must come from <i>somewhere.”</i> Her eyes narrowed as she smiled. “Stay safe out there.” Several minutes later, Talisminn was weaving her way through the overgrown woods. She growled each time her fins snagged on a branch. Bodies like hers weren’t meant to tromp through undergrowth. She shook her pink coat out upon reaching the shore. The sun was glistening off the polished planks of the Razor Wind. She was home. Her crew saluted as she reached the top of the gang plank. “Hello men. I assume you had a good day in town.” “Shen and I offloaded a lot from our last plunder!” Shrimpi cried, her whiskers twitching excitedly. “Good.” Reaching into her bags, she tossed a sack of food at Shen. “I trust you bought a new sextant with some of your earnings.” “Yes, Captain.” Shen nodded. “Excellent. The town is talking - apparently they heard about our little ‘run-in’ with the Wive’s Tail.” Her first mate, Flapjack, sighed behind her. “She was a beautiful ship. Shame, really.” Talisminn ignored him. “Pull up anchor and get us moving. I don’t want anyone nervously watching the shore to find us.” Shen saluted silently. She tossed another sack of food at Shrimpi. “Go check on our little ‘stow-away,’ would you darling?” “Aye-aye, Aliss!” Shrimpi saluted as well before pivoting on her heel and bounding across the ship, her shrimp tail dragging behind her tiny body. Aliss turned, thumping Flapjack with her shoulder as she walked past. “Come to my quarters, would you?” Flapjack obediently turned to follow, his dolphin tail swishing against the deck. “Anything for you, Captain.” “There was a lot of whispers amongst the townsfolk today about ‘the King of Terror.’” “Oh, really?” The dolphin-dog asked, his blue tail subtly wagging. “What’d they say?” “They added yet <i>another</i> foot to my height,” Aliss began, walking into her low-ceilinged Captain’s quarters with ease. “I now have <i>three</i> rows of teeth - all canines, of course. Annnnd I helpfully informed them that the captain drinks blood.” Flapjack shot her a look. “What?” Aliss asked. “You can never be too careful. Who knows when I could strike?” Her smile faded. “They still think I’m a man.” “I understand it bothers you, but perhaps you should take it as complimentary - all those stories depicting you as a powerful beast of a man.” Flapjack shrugged offhandedly. “Yeah? Wellll, I <i>don’t.”</i> Aliss rolled her eyes. “It’s insulting everyone hears stories of a terrifying captain and never consider I could be anything other than a <i>man.”</i> “Well, who would they hear it from? The survivors you leave won’t have the confidence to say they were bested by a pink, petite <i>woman.</i> They’d never live it down.” “…You’re absolutely right. <i>They</i> would never say it.” Talisminn straightened her shoulders. “Jackie, darling, you and I are going to spread a <i>new</i> rumor.” Talisminn watched from the corner of her eye as Flapjack tugged a piece of parchment toward himself, quill in his other paw. Aliss smiled, beginning to pace slowly as she spoke. “I will no longer be known as this ‘King of Terror’ as the riffraff has judged me, but rather as the ‘Tyrant <i>Princess</i> of the Southern Seas.’” Her volume dropped, but her voice sharpened. “Let them know <i>exactly</i> what sank those ships - a <i>woman.”</i>trophyA Week Ago<i>Shhrckk shhrckk</i> The pestle ground softly against the mortar as Nanala worked, moving her mouth with great precision as she ground herbs for a poultice. Ordinarily, an herbalist would use their front paws to get the job done, but Nanala wasn’t an ordinary herbalist - she was born without front legs. It grew late. Candlelight licked the walls. The bunny-cat mix glanced over her shoulder at the hulk of a man taking up most of her floor. No change. Satisfied with her work, Nanala wrapped the poultice in a cloth and gathered the ends carefully in her mouth, bouncing over to the strange man. He was a dog, huge - maybe four feet tall, Nanala guessed, but she’d have to see him standing - with creamy fur and brown markings. He was covered in terrible wounds, not fresh, but certainly not healed, that had been poorly dressed to begin with; those dressings now wet and muddy. She didn’t recognize him. Nobody was a stranger in Alden. The little port town was on a peninsula, two mountains and a dangerous pass in and out closing them off from the rest of the continent. Nobody came in that way. Instead, they sailed in through the docks and never stayed for long. Yet, here he was - a stranger, half-dead in their little town. Yes, he was going to have a long road to recovery. But, recover he shall - Nanala’d make sure of that. Adjusting the bag resting on her chest with her nubs, Nanala pulled out a stick, the end tipped with cotton. She dabbed her poultice with it and set to work, starting with the large, x-shaped cut deep in the man’s shoulder. <i>A week ago, Goliath lunged forward, thrusting himself between The King and his would-be assassin. The attacker’s sword lodged deep into Goliath’s shoulder, the faithful knight’s staff the only thing preventing the blade from digging any deeper. The castle was under siege, revolutionaries looking for someone to blame out for blood. But, Goliath swore they would spill every drop of his before anyone touched the royal family. Finding an opening, Goliath shoved the attacker back. Sword now free, they slashed wildly, creating a second cut on Goliath’s shoulder.</i> The first wound cleaned and dressed, Nanala hopped around the stranger, inspecting the wound deep in his side. It didn’t look good. This was the one she was worried about most. <i>A week ago, Goliath hurried across the marble tile. There was no time to lose. He had to escort The King and Queen to safety. He heard The King tumble to the ground; the thump was audible. Pivoting on his heel, Goliath dove in front of The King, an attacker stabbing deep into the knight’s side.</i> Next, there was a long cut across the stranger’s rump. Nanala had to sit up on her haunches to reach it. <i>A week ago, Goliath thumped The King and Queen’s heels with his snout as he ran, roughly shoving them forward. He heard the blade pierce the air before he felt it slash his pelt, the knife only stopping when it lodged in the stone wall ahead of them. Nosing the royal family roughly up the stairs, Goliath yanked the knife from the stone, chucking it at the rope holding up the portcullis. There was a crash as the gate closed behind them.</i> Most strikingly, there was a large cut across the stranger’s snout, ending in a jagged line down his cheek. <i>A week ago, The Queen lunged at a man who’d grabbed her husband, Goliath yanking her out of harm’s way just in time for a gryphon claw to tear across his muzzle. Goliath jerked his head back as his blood splattered against the marble floor. His attacker, a trusted knight and someone Goliath had only just this morning considered a friend, pulled a sword from his belt. He hit Goliath’s staff hard enough to nearly snap it in two. There was a dull thump as an arrow lodged itself into Goliath’s bandolier. Snatching the arrow, Goliath tore it from the leather and lodged it deep into his enemy’s eye.</i> Nanala adjusted the tool in her mouth. “…Where did you come from?” She turned to the baby she’d found with him - long eared, blue and brown, with oversized wings and downy feathers - now comfortably asleep on one of her pillows, “and why doesn’t your ‘friend’ look anything like you?” <i>A week ago, the stone walls spit dust each time the door ground against them. “Go! I’ll hold them off! Get the prince to safety!” Goliath braced himself for the worst - they had minutes before that door broke, if they were lucky. He would buy them every extra second he could. “No…” Goliath rose to full height and slowly looked back over his shoulder. He found a conviction in The King’s eyes, a terrible finality as he stared straight ahead at his personal guard, most trusted knight, and oldest friend. In all their years, Goliath had never seen him like that. “Even if we snuck out, we wouldn’t get more than five feet from the castle.” “Sir-” <b>“We’re</b> what they want, Goliath. Take our son and get out of here. …You’re the only chance he has.” Goliath looked to The Queen. “…Please talk some sense into him.” But, The Queen stared out the window, her gaze fixed on nothing. Her snout wrinkled as she grimaced. “No sense in all of us dying…”</i> Her mystery patient taken care of, Nanala put her lathelwirt away with careful precision, adjusting her bag with her leg-stumps. Hours ago, she was picking it in the rain - rain was the best time to pick lathelwirt; anyone with sense knew that - and the leaves were still wet. But, she hadn’t managed to collect that many before… <i>Hours ago, Nanala’s ears perked at the sound of crying echoing through the forest. A baby. It was unmistakable. Shouldering aside bushes, she found a hulking body collapsed into the mud; curled protectively around something. Nanala could only be stunned over what, she could only assume, was a dead body for moments. The baby’s cries were louder and more distinct than ever. Hurrying to the other side of the body, she found the baby - rain-soaked, shivering, and sobbing. There was a blue, wing-shaped crest in the middle of his forehead. Her ears flicked back sympathetically. “I’m sure you’re miserable.” She pulled the baby into her cloak, shielding him from the rain, and the body beside them shifted. Whoever he was, he was, somehow, alive.</i> Hours later, Nanala eyed the strangers carefully as her kettle boiled. She decided she’d stay awake through the night to keep an eye on them. And a long, sleepless night like this one called for tea.trophytrophy