35th of Winter, 518 AV
For a city in a state of perpetual anarchy, Tarn’s afternoon walks were often surprisingly monotonous. He wasn’t on Sun’s Birth business for the moment, so he had donned a wool coat instead of the gang’s uniform of studded leather armor, and wore a pair of gloves to cover the brand on his hand. He’d put them on once he’d put some distance between himself and the Sun’s Refuge. He wasn’t proud of his organization, but didn’t necessarily want his superiors to know he was ashamed of his allegiance.
As Tarn walked, a flicker of motion caught his eye from an alleyway to his side. It was probably just one of the city’s many rats, but even a rat promised more excitement than the same circuitous route through the city he took nearly every day. Tarn made his way into the dark alley, littered with useless refuse. Upon closer inspection, there was a small alcove made by the pile of rubble. Tarn crouched down and peeked inside, only to meet the bright yellow yes of a cat.
Tarn blinked.
The cat blinked.
A hint of a smile tugged at Tarn’s lips. He reached out a finger in an attempt to pet the scrawny creature, but it bristled immediately, hissing and swiping at the offending appendage. Tarn snapped his hand back, taking a moment to examine the light scratch marks the cat had left. He frowned at it, and the feline glared back with a fury that surpassed its six-pound frame. A smile wormed its way back onto Tarn’s face, and he couldn’t help but let out a faint chuckle.
Tarn doubted he’d be able to convince the cat to warm up to him, so after a few more moments of staring at it, he stood and resumed his walk. As he strolled through the city, his thoughts drifted back to the cat. Maybe it had to do with how it was much smaller than he was, weaker too, but it had shown no hesitation in staring him down in defiance. It was just an ordinary alley-cat, but for some reason Tarn couldn’t get his mind past it.
Tarn soon found himself in the market with the cat occupying his thoughts. His eyes drifted over the merchants and their stalls until they fell upon a fishmonger, and an idea popped into his head. He made his way over to the man. The merchant caught Tarn’s eye and flashed a toothy smile marred only by the fact that he didn’t have many teeth to show.
“Can I help you good man?” the fishmonger asked.
“Yes, yes you can,” Tarn replied. Somewhat awkwardly, he pointed at a fish he thought would be suitable. Its sides were shiny, and he’d heard somewhere that cats liked shiny things. “Can I buy that one?”
“Of course!” The fishmonger exclaimed. Tarn paled when he heard the price.
“Err, maybe not,” he said. “How about that one?” This time he tried to pick a fish that seemed abundant among the fisher’s wares. Finding the price much more amenable, he paid the man and took the fish.
“By the way,” he said, “do you think a cat would like this?”
“A cat?” the fishmonger asked, eyebrows raising.
“Yes, a cat.”
“Well, I should think a cat would like just about any fish it could sink its teeth into, don’t you think?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Tarn muttered, walking away. Behind his back the fishmonger shook his head, saying something about this city being full of loonies.
On his way back to the alley where he had found the cat, he fumbled with and dropped the fish a few times. It was slippery, and the gloves didn’t exactly help. By the time he got there, the fish was grimy and decidedly unappetizing. Still, Tarn bent down and peeked into the alcove to see that the cat was still there.
“Hey,” Tarn said softly to the cat, “you hungry?” He laid the dirt-caked fish down just in front of the cat’s hiding place before backing off and standing up. After a few seconds a tentative paw reached out of the alcove and quickly pulled the fish inside. Tarn’s face broke out in a grin, and he left the feline to enjoy its meal in peace. As he walked, he found himself inexplicably happy, and even began to sing an old sailor’s shanty to himself that he had heard in his youth by the docks. It was out of tune and off melody, but for the moment Tarn was happy.
OOC: Word Count:758
For a city in a state of perpetual anarchy, Tarn’s afternoon walks were often surprisingly monotonous. He wasn’t on Sun’s Birth business for the moment, so he had donned a wool coat instead of the gang’s uniform of studded leather armor, and wore a pair of gloves to cover the brand on his hand. He’d put them on once he’d put some distance between himself and the Sun’s Refuge. He wasn’t proud of his organization, but didn’t necessarily want his superiors to know he was ashamed of his allegiance.
As Tarn walked, a flicker of motion caught his eye from an alleyway to his side. It was probably just one of the city’s many rats, but even a rat promised more excitement than the same circuitous route through the city he took nearly every day. Tarn made his way into the dark alley, littered with useless refuse. Upon closer inspection, there was a small alcove made by the pile of rubble. Tarn crouched down and peeked inside, only to meet the bright yellow yes of a cat.
Tarn blinked.
The cat blinked.
A hint of a smile tugged at Tarn’s lips. He reached out a finger in an attempt to pet the scrawny creature, but it bristled immediately, hissing and swiping at the offending appendage. Tarn snapped his hand back, taking a moment to examine the light scratch marks the cat had left. He frowned at it, and the feline glared back with a fury that surpassed its six-pound frame. A smile wormed its way back onto Tarn’s face, and he couldn’t help but let out a faint chuckle.
Tarn doubted he’d be able to convince the cat to warm up to him, so after a few more moments of staring at it, he stood and resumed his walk. As he strolled through the city, his thoughts drifted back to the cat. Maybe it had to do with how it was much smaller than he was, weaker too, but it had shown no hesitation in staring him down in defiance. It was just an ordinary alley-cat, but for some reason Tarn couldn’t get his mind past it.
Tarn soon found himself in the market with the cat occupying his thoughts. His eyes drifted over the merchants and their stalls until they fell upon a fishmonger, and an idea popped into his head. He made his way over to the man. The merchant caught Tarn’s eye and flashed a toothy smile marred only by the fact that he didn’t have many teeth to show.
“Can I help you good man?” the fishmonger asked.
“Yes, yes you can,” Tarn replied. Somewhat awkwardly, he pointed at a fish he thought would be suitable. Its sides were shiny, and he’d heard somewhere that cats liked shiny things. “Can I buy that one?”
“Of course!” The fishmonger exclaimed. Tarn paled when he heard the price.
“Err, maybe not,” he said. “How about that one?” This time he tried to pick a fish that seemed abundant among the fisher’s wares. Finding the price much more amenable, he paid the man and took the fish.
“By the way,” he said, “do you think a cat would like this?”
“A cat?” the fishmonger asked, eyebrows raising.
“Yes, a cat.”
“Well, I should think a cat would like just about any fish it could sink its teeth into, don’t you think?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Tarn muttered, walking away. Behind his back the fishmonger shook his head, saying something about this city being full of loonies.
On his way back to the alley where he had found the cat, he fumbled with and dropped the fish a few times. It was slippery, and the gloves didn’t exactly help. By the time he got there, the fish was grimy and decidedly unappetizing. Still, Tarn bent down and peeked into the alcove to see that the cat was still there.
“Hey,” Tarn said softly to the cat, “you hungry?” He laid the dirt-caked fish down just in front of the cat’s hiding place before backing off and standing up. After a few seconds a tentative paw reached out of the alcove and quickly pulled the fish inside. Tarn’s face broke out in a grin, and he left the feline to enjoy its meal in peace. As he walked, he found himself inexplicably happy, and even began to sing an old sailor’s shanty to himself that he had heard in his youth by the docks. It was out of tune and off melody, but for the moment Tarn was happy.
OOC: Word Count:758
