First day in a new place (Liar)

[Kit]

Kit eagerly complied with the command to get naked. His clothes were scratchy and uncomfortable, and he only wore them because his mother told him that humans wanted him to. But this human was obviously different, he thought, grinning. He looked apprehensively at the tub full of water, but at a bit of gentle prodding from the quiet girl, he obeyed that command as well. He yelped and complained at the pain of being scratched up with the brush, and were he in his other form he certainly would have defended himself. But as it was, despite being painful it did not feel life-threatening, and the one scratching at him was clearly not a predator.

Upon being asked about his skills, he had to think for a moment. He replied eagerly, wanting to impress this woman, "Well, I'm pretty good at finding food." He thought of the things his mother taught him, and pridefully boasted, "And I can wear clothes, and buy things with money." Too late, he remembered that the rules were different here, and that buying things was bad. He winced, hoping that his mistake would not get him killed. He thought quickly, trying to come up with another skill which would impress the woman enough to distract her from his blunder. "I can run pretty fast too!"

[Liar]

Her eyes settled like boredom on the boy, as his skin pinked beneath his fellow slave’s scouring brush. There was an unyielding air of superiority in her upturned nose, her folded arms. Unfortunately for Kit, she seemed incapable of finding endearment in his ignorance. He could have been the most eloquent scholar in the world, and she would have treated him no different. “Running. Finding. These are the talents of a messenger.” She leaned forward and said slowly, “Do you know what a messenger is?” She woman waited for an answer, but seemed to forget to listen to whatever he chose to say. Her attention was drawn instead to the table behind her, where half a loaf of bread and a bowl of mostly eaten olives sat. She considered the stale bread with the tip of her finger, then chose an olive instead. She chewed it slowly, though seemed not to savor it. “Sore Knees, fetch Hungry his clothes,” she ordered. The girl dropped the brush and fled the room. The woman plucked up another olive and turned it idly before her. “It’s only food that cannot be bought here. We are not savages, who withhold basic needs from the poor. You, on the other hand...” She set it down again. “You’ll be finding men, not food. If I told you where to turn to find one, could you remember enough to deliver him a message as well?”

[Kit]

Kit tilted his head to the side as the woman spoke. He was distracted from answering immediately by the food-things behind her. He stared longingly at it for a moment, salivating. All he'd had to eat recently was whatever bits that man has given him in the alley, and that was not nearly enough! He was so focused on the food that he was barely paying attention to the woman's words.

Enough of the words filtered through that he felt compelled to mumble, "Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm very clever..." trailing off before finishing his favorite thing to say. He licked his lips and then couldn't wait anymore. He jumped out of the tub, splashing water everywhere, and then made a mad grab for the bit of bread he'd been eying. A hopelessly tangled mass of long black hair fell unheeded over his face; at this moment, food was the only thing that mattered.

[Liar]

She saw his longing and smiled at it, wide and red and pleased. She did not move from where she stood between him and his desire. “Good,” she said, stepping forward. In the next tick, Sore Knees reentered with remarkable silence, considering how quickly her feet moved. She set a stack of neatly folded clothes on a dry chair and retrieved a towel, then wordlessly took Kit’s arm and urged him out of the tub. As she dried him and began to help him into his clothes, the woman went on. “I need you to go to a place called The Post and find a man named Card Hadra. Do you understand? It’s not far from here. Turn left out the door, run down two blocks and take the third right. Then turn right at the fork and left at the next turn. At the end of Flaxen Street, there will be a big post with paper on it. Hadra will be in the building behind it. Got it?” The shirt and pants were plain and black, a little stiff but softer than rags. No good for running, but he would have to make do. When Sore Knees was done with her duties, the woman offered her an olive. Confused, she took it hesitantly, pushing it into her mouth only after her mistress nodded her approval. “You are excused,” she told the girl, and then turned to Kit. From her pocket, his new owner produced a small golden pin in the shape of a hollow circle. She approached the kelvic and slipped it through his new lapel. “I need you to tell him to collect some men and sent me the entirety of my shipment to The Garden—that’s here. I need it, in its entirety, tonight. When you’re done, come back here. Only then will you have earned the food you seem so desperate to eat.” She stepped away to look at him, but did not bother to let him know when she was done with the inspection. After a few moments, she added impatiently, “On with you, then.”

[Kit]

Kit wriggled anxiously at being denied the food-things, but after being promised food upon the completion of his mission, he immediately perked up. He took of as wildly as he could, tripping over the strange flowy clothing they'd put on him. Once he got outside, he tried to remember what he was actually supposed to do. Two rights and a left? Find the Post, and the Card, and come back to the Garden...

He managed the first right turn before he completely forgot the rest of the directions. He forgot that he had advertised his running ability and should therefore probably be running, instead choosing to amble along at a relaxed pace, taking in the curious sounds and smells of the brightly colored city. He strongly desired to shift into his true form, but he wouldn't know what to do with his clothes, and he's always been very careful about paying attention to where his clothes were kept. It had been one of the few things his mother had drilled into him before he was on his own.

He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his new shirt, higher than anything he'd ever worn before. After a while, he realized that he should probably get on with whatever he was supposed to be doing, especially since free and easy food was waiting for him if he got it right. Once he started thinking about it though, he realized he had no idea what a Post OR a Card looked like. Never one for shyness, he walked up to the nearest person on the street and asked, "Where is the Post, please? I need to find the Card."

Through repeated use of this question, he managed to find his way to a big stick standing out of the ground, sort of like a tree, but with funny-colored leaves stuck to the trunk instead of on branches. He walked all around the tree, but he couldn't find anything he would call a Card (not that he knew what one looked like).

[Liar]

Kit had found the post, and just missed the store named after it. The freshly painted sign hung in sharp dichotomy with its dust-clouded windows, like the only things requiring maintenance were those that pertained directly to the merchant’s profit. Card Hadra could have been found loitering just inside of his own store, waiting for a customer to come in with a twist of a frown on his face. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his shoulders slouched like boredom, when he saw Kit. It took a second glance at the slave to recognize his pin, the woman he represented, and another tick before he remembered the only reason such a person would be so far from The Garden. He exited through the front door briskly, and all but angrily. “You,” he grunted. “I know what you’re here for. You tell Miss Glen that she does not need to send yet another of her stupid little runners. It will get to her when it gets to her. There’s no rushing these things.” Somehow, his fingers found their way around Kit’s stuffy black collar. The golden pin there loosed, and fell with a clink to the ground. When Card leaned down to emphasize his point, his breath stank of ale. “Try me again and there’ll be trouble.”

[Kit]

Kit was relieved that the man seemed to know what Kit's message was, since truthfully, Kit had forgotten most of it himself. He did remember enough to be distressed at his lack of cooperation though. "But, but she said she wanted it tonight! I don't think she'll feed me if I tell her bad news!" At this thought, tears threatened to fall from his eyes, which was rather a new sensation for him, and it startled him greatly.

The man's grip and obvious anger frightened Kit, and made him feel a little guilty for apparently causing so much trouble. He stomped his feet instinctively, but he did not quite feel threatened enough to shift. He waited anxiously for the man to let him go, hoping he wouldn't have to resort to something that would make everyone uncomfortable.

Partially in an attempt to diffuse the tension, he asked, "Um... could you remind me where the Garden is? I, uh, I think I got lost on the way here." He grinned sheepishly, trying his best to be so adorable that the man couldn't possibly be angry at him. Of course, he'd grown a bit too much for that particular trick to be effective.

[Liar]

With a huff, Hadra shoved Kit from his grip and cursed at his shoulder, mumbling something about stupidity and shackles. He looked away in consideration, unwilling to meet the eye of a slave for longer than he had to. It took it too many moments for Kit’s answer to travel from his ears to his brain, for him to realize that it wasn’t an answer at all. Disoriented, he threw a disgruntled hand in the air. “Are you kidding me? You just came from there! I don’t have time for this.” His hand flailed at the indiscernible distance, then dropped into a fist at his side. Near the end of the long street, the Greenhouse’s glass façade shone in the light of the setting sun. Clearly unamused by Kit’s attempts to placate him, he loosed an exasperated sigh. “Tell her what you will, if it’ll feed you. But you know the truth. I’m working on it as fast as I can.” Then he turned abruptly, storming back to the shop as he called back, “And tell her the next boy she sends at me won’t come back, hear?”

[Kit]

Kit cringed at the mean yelling man, feeling very discouraged. Completely oblivious to his missing pin, or any significance it might hold, he ambled morosely in the direction the Card had flung his hand, not having the energy or enthusiasm to run back. He thought he was being a good skunk, delivering the message. Had he done something wrong, to make the man so angry?

Fortunately, the Garden was in a straight line from the Post, so before long, he found that he recognized the green-filled windows. He meandered inside, his mood dampened further by hunger and the worry that he would not get any food today. He tried to find his way back to the room where he had seen the food-things, and the lady who would not let him have the food-things. Maybe he would be lucky and she would be gone and the food would still be there!

[Liar]

Kit’s friend was gone from the fountain at the front, leaving the Garden to trickle and sway with eerie emptiness around the hungry kelvic. Just before he could cross into the shadow of the main room, Sore Knees appeared before him. Even as she caught his eye, it was apparent how she had mastered the slave’s talent of remaining unseen: her feet were light and silent, her grace avoidant. She dared to take him by the arm, but her grasp was too soft to demand anything from him. Still, she whispered, “This is your chance. You can get out of here now, and no one will be the wiser.” Her smile was shaking, anxiety and excitement joined as one. “She’ll punish you for losing the pin, and Laat knows what else. But if you just turn around and—” The loud knocks interrupted her, announcing the woman’s approach. Sore Knees held her breath in terror as she slipped between the bright green scenery and out of sight. This is your chance, he voice echoed in the back of Kit’s mind, and the door lurked just behind him, asking silently which he preferred more: Food or Freedom?