Closed [Quarters] But it is so cute

[Fallon]

29th Winter 514 AV

"I want one," came the words of Fallon as she stared down the corridor at the strange creature. It was less of an order and more of a statement, the usual scowl that she had donned since arriving at the island falling away to that of pleasant surprise. Her eyes had widened a little, her head cocking to one side as she stared upon the miniscule creature that had managed to gain entrance into the citadel. She blinked, and it was the head that straightened, watching the fur shudder and ripple as she watched it nose against the ground. It gave her a look from the far end of the corridor, those pearly blue eyes blinking at her in response and its nose wriggle at her curiously.

"I don't care what it is. I want one. It looks..." she paused then, watching another of the same coat, the dark fur and the white socks being a distinctive trait. There was the waggling of large tails - almost abnormally so with the size of their body - and the gentle yapping that would escape. Dog like, canine almost. Her lips pursed, a chew upon her lip as she glared it down. It was a difficult task, her fists having clenched as she wrestled with the simplest of urges - the want to simply rush over and pick it up. By this point, the leader of the Scars had managed to don a healthy red hue. Her eyes gave a glance to the other companions, the clear struggling to keep a straight face failing her. She could not contain herself, and so it was with large eyes she inevitably picked her assisting victims for the day.

"Gentlemen!" she spoke with authority, but the evident squeak rung true in her voice, "Your esteemed boss has a task for you... Sort of." By this point she was already placing down weaponry and wriggling off her coat - looking to use it as some impromptu net for the task at hand, "You are required to assist I in the capturing such a..." Adorable, fluffy, cute, lovely looking, "Interesting subject. For..." she hummed, pausing then as she creased her brow with thought, and then went into a wince, "I just want one. Because. Well..." she coughed, "It looks... well... Cute?" There was a huff, having now pulled the coat free and giving it a shakeout. Fallon worked to get a scowl on once more, though it would have easily been closer to that of a pout, "Let's just... get one... or two. Maybe. Please?"

Snorting, she moved herself onwards and focused on the presently set task. Capture one of the little beasties that seemed to already be rapidly multiplying in number. Fallon released a cooing noise, hunching in as she prowled closer. In response the pair of Gibbat dogs simply stared back, a look of almost insult that someone dared come over. Whatever the others were doing was not her concern - she had her prey in sight. She prowled in, holding the coat out before her, her tongue clicking as closed in. Fur bushed out, the growl escaping from the pair caused her only a momentary pause before her advancing once more continued, "Come on, come to me, come on... little, cute, thing... Come to the wolf, come on now."

Another yap, another step and then a lunge at the creatures. Both leapt, a mighty springing out and away with all their strength and pounded back down, around the corner and to the direction they had come from. It was only as she scrabbled to make chase that the woman stopped and stared after it and off into the distance. Fallon's jaw dropped, her eyes darting back with a deep set sense of glee and wonder. Her inner child had been released, and no doubt would not stop until it was sated, "Noven... Uncle... it appears there are more. This is very good news."

[Noven]

The first three words to come out of Wolf Girl's mouth caused an instant surge of machismo within Nov's sleep addled consciousness.

"Tch. Anything that has four eyes and breeds that fast just smells like trouble to me," he growled testily in response. He'd just been in the middle of a rare, dreamless nap when the summons came. Noven had hoped it was something of the utmost dire nature. Alas, it was not. Hence his surly mood.

Bitzer would have none of his reasonings. Apparently, the leader of the Scars seemed rather taken with the strange little creatures. Nov couldn't even begin to understand why. He never did like small animals of any kind, including human babes, as he found them yappy and useless and too easily killed via being stepped on. And this...this thing that had somehow found its way into the corridor could have weighed no more than nine or ten pounds, with one too many creepy, blue eyes and long rabbit-like ears, its tongue lolling out of a guileless face as it blinked all three peepers at the strangers.

Nov felt a bizarre compulsion to stroke its long, soft fur...and fought it furiously, trying his best not to think about seeing if it could play fetch, or giving it a name, or imagining its dog like face exploding with joy upon being given a treat...

The cook flinched as Bitzer's voice broke forth with renewed vigor. Wait...just hold on a...she wanted them to do what?

"Gods dammit," he muttered. Nov looked to Bitzer, then the weird canine, who was still wagging its oversized tail, and then back to Bitzer again. Krysus, was she pouting? She was definitely pouting.

He made a face like he'd just swallowed something supremely unpleasant, sighed, and then conceded, "Fine. I'll help."

Glancing down the corridor again as the creature yipped again, Noven tacked on, "But if we find more than one, I'm keeping one too. For, er, studying. Or to sell later, 'o course."

Wolf Girl, who was certainly living up to her nickname in earnest today, didn't even wait before diving into the task herself. Following her lead, Nov removed his coat as well. Partially for freer movement and partially to use as a makeshift net. He'd barely gotten himself ready when Bitzer pounced, sending both dogs running off down another corridor. Cursing under his breath, Nov ran to catch up to her, only to take one look in the direction their quarries had fled before his mouth began forming a huge 'O'.

"Well petch me sideways," he murmured in a sort of hushed tone of awe. "You weren't kidding about there being more."

The entire hallway was filled with the sodding, three eyed things. They were literally everywhere.

"Last one to catch themselves a creepy critter is a rotten egg!"

Nov didn't even know what had possessed him to say such a thing. All he could think of in that moment was capturing one of these rabbit dogs. Why? Because there were so many of them, and they were free. Just thinking about how cu--ahem, how much he could sell one of them for had the merc's fingers tingling with anticipation.

And to hell with sportsmanship. Noven dove into the fray, arms outstretched as he lunged for one critter after another.

[Pulren Marsh]

Sleep had come easy for Pulren as the days dragged by on Sahova. Outside of the events of the week previous, his constant use of his Reimancy had become taxing, to say the least. A diversion was greatly needed and most welcome, so when Bitzer had requested his presence outside of the quarters, he was happy to join in. Stepping out into the corridors, the high pitched chirping of the most peculiar and adorable animals came, their leaping and running something that brought an immediate smile to Pulren's face.

Long ears, four eyes and so full of energy! They moved in little swarms all over and as he listened to the boss'e pleas and her infectious cuteness, he found himself giggling, a sound he never expected to make naturally again. It was hilarious to watch Noven dive in after being so headstrong, but he was learning that his companion was that to a tee, so no surprises were really needed, after all. If anything was clear, Pulren would be no rotten egg. No way!

His manner would be different, however. As with most things that involved the Zeltivan, tactics always played a part, even in such a frivolous thing as catching a pet. Surmising the scene and his opponents, he rubbed his chin and waled back over to his particular broom closet, taking a seat in front of the door and opening it behind him. Looking around, he put his efforts into gazing into the double sets of eyes of one of the creatures. He hoped to make some sort of contact, as a bond with a particular animal would be best anyway. He clearly wouldn't sell it but have a friend that had no agendas other than love, protection and food. Patting the ground in front of him, he spotted one that looked his direction.

"C'mere, boy! Here boy!" His hands patted and reverted him to the young Pal of a decade previous, wide eyed and desperate for a friend. He hoped he would either attract one out of trust or that one might leap over him and be trapped in his room, if nothing else.

[Keene Ward]

The early morning had been peaceful. Keene had risen early, as he had been doing for the handful of days he'd been staying in the Quarters, and after eating a breakfast of jerky and raisins, he'd taken his daily walk down to the testing grounds. The Scars, while not lazy, tended to start the day nearer the eighth or ninth bell, giving him several bells to himself to do with as he pleased. He had treated the time with them as a sort of vacation from being an initiate. Of course, he still practiced his shielding nightly and spent a few bells of the day working with his res, but for the most part, he found he was enjoying his time spent watching the curious group. Each was fundamentally different from the other, yet they came together as a cohesive unit in a fashion Keene simply didn't understand. The bold, almost stand-offish Noven, the protective, jocular Pulren, and then the enigma that was Bitzer. There was little that seemed to bind them at a glance, but even Keene could see there was a connection through time and strife. The specifics, however, were theirs to know and theirs to keep.

As he had strolled along the dusty, grassy plains, avoiding the dangerous, explosive runes and the areas where figures milled about, Keene bounced played with his res. The bluish liquid swinging about him as he tested the extent of his influence over it. Since arriving on the island, his skill as a reimancer had increased to the extent where his three meter influence had extended to a sizable area. The minute he extended res too far, however, it still made the same "pop", dissipating into a bluish dust before evaporating altogether. Limits were important to know, and his few bells in the grounds were devoted to finding just how far he could control his res. As he started back up the path, however, a familiar set of eyes had stared at him from a bush as he began to ascend. As he stared with knit brow and frown, another set revealed itself, followed by another. Soon, there were Gibbat dogs on either side of the trail, some sitting directly in his path. As he moved, they retreated, but playful growls and barks began to litter the once silent Sahovan landscape. There were so many, Keene wondered if a herd or pack or whatever the term was for a group of Gibbats had wandered onto the path by some strange coincidence.

He'd seen them occasionally around the prairie, but for the most part, they didn't seem incredibly prevalent around the immediate area of the citadel. As he pushed open the Vestibule doors, however, he came to the conclusion that the Gibbats on the path had not wandered in, but rather out. The hall had collections of groups of furry bodies that yelp, rolled, pawed, and played a the feet of the many statues that lined the area. Picking up his pace, Keene hurried to the other side, the several chimes it took to traverse the area seeming a least twice the length as the four eyed creatures stared at him as he passed. Some followed, some growled, others hid. There just so many of them. When he passed into the courtyard, it was a mess. There were floating Gibbat dogs that just seemed to drift through the mists. He could make out the aged frame of Mistress Wanda as some of the dogs flew about, presumably being reclaimed by whatever spectral forces she had influence over. Some of the dogs barked and snarled from behind the little fences, though they did not advance. They acted quite different from the others, and Keene was careful to make a point to avoid them. Wanda was too busy to notice him, and there were people scattered about trying to collect the creatures. Most had bags, a few had some wicked looking spears. Anyway to get rid of or capture the beasts was being employed, but Keene had the leisure to remove himself from the chaos. For the time being, he was to watch the Scars, not help the Citadel deal with another infestation.

Pushing open the doors to the Quarters, a collection of yapping and the smell of dog filled his nostrils. The little fluffballs had infested the building as well. The animals scattered before him, some darting out into the courtyard where a few immediate drifted up into the air the moment they crossed the fence. Quickly shutting the doors behind him, Keene hurried towards the stairs. He wondered if any of the Scars had awakened, and what Bitzer's plan would be. They tended to react differently to things than Sahovans. He couldn't decide if it was a trait he enjoyed, or was simply fascinated by. Even when he had lived in Zeltiva, he had been an atypical member of society, no matter how closely he'd followed social law. The Sahovans had acted in a much more understandable way, giving him the slight impression that actions could be predicted. As he made his way up the stairs, he found that the Scars were as unpredictable as ever.

Bitzer and Noven, jackets in hand, were diving after the dogs. The young man moved with a determination and violence that suited his character quite well, while Bitzer had what could only be described as a childlike grin as she chased after the squeaking, fuzzy animals. The one called "Uncle" cooed out of his room, slapping his hands on the ground to coax any curious creatures into a place he could better trap them. Keene had to give the man credit for his tact, but his appraisal was quickly interrupted as Noven drove a particularly agile dog in his direction. Keene turned just in time to see the creature's extended paws before it slammed into his face. While light, the force of its jump had given it enough momentum to knock Keene off balance. His back hit the wall of the stairwell, a solid hit that shoved the air from his lungs in a surprised wheeze as the dog leaped from his shoulders and bounded down the stairs. Dazed, Keene gave the tanned man a few surprised blinks before pushing himself back onto his feet, drawing in a few testing breaths before he let his eyes flick between the three members. "...What."

[Fallon]

It was perhaps fortunate that the men of the little group joined in. She was still wiggling the coat as she moved forward, the red and grey fabric rippling as she inched ever closer. Noven was already making his moves, with Palaren following at a slower more steady rate. Her eyes were darting about, trying to focus upon the rapidly moving bodies that shifted to and fro - tongue lolling and their four eyes blinking with curiosity. They gave a scuttle when she took a step closer, nosing the ground and sniffing it curiously as they watched back.

"Petch you sideways?" She cocked an eyebrow, looked him up and down and reverted her attention to the task at hand, "No thanks." Her gaze slowed, picking out a target, one absent and without the red plume in its tail - she would have to work out what the difference meant later. The other cohort in such an adventure was taking the more subtle tactic, gentle cooing and slow encouraging movements to come closer. Whatever tricks he had up his sleeve she did not know, nor did she care presently - the competition was clear and she so reacted accordingly.

Skulking closer, one step at a time and closer, shoulders rolling and the trails of the coat just hovering above the floor. A joint goal had been made, and so she would throw herself fully into. Desire and childish want was her drive, the chirping growls of the curious creatures that seemed to delight in the foolishness of the humans. Focusing she moved ever closer - shuffling as she crouched. Noven was still adopting his brute force tactic, and in response the creatures were bounding this way and that. It was with a lunge that she threw the coat over the closest one, form staggering after it as she went to her knees. A defensive squeak was let out, the shape of its form caught beneath the fabric as it flailed beneath. Scrabbling after it she took a hard grasp against the coat, arms wrapping round as it struggled. With a kick and a scratch to the fabric it popped its head free within a gap, flustered as it wriggled. Defying it pawed its way out and scampered off down the corridor - leaving Fallon hugging an empty coat.

Watching the antics, she watched the nibble creature pound away, leaping into their designated 'guardian' whilst in the citadel. Keene fell into the stairwell behind him, and whilst at first she winced she quickly fell into that of laughter. Cackling rolled from her lips, eyes wide with amusement as gave him a welcoming nod, "Don't mind us Warden we're just... entertaining ourselves." Releasing a snort she gathered herself up once more, her gaze looking to the men before beaming a smile at the new face, "So, graced us with your presence once more? Care to be entertained? I heard we members can be quite amusing when we put on such performances."

Shaking out her coat, she held it underneath one arm and brushed herself off and whilst she continued to speak, her gaze was flickering back and forth to the various critters that had infested the corridor. Slowly, she cleared her throat and raised a brow, "You will excuse us if we seem... distracted. I have tasked my associates with the uh... capturing of some of these creatures for... research purposes." She gave a stupid grin, her expression speaking that the true reason was beyond the ideas of investigation and learning, "Perhaps, maybe... you would assist us with... whatever they are called? Do they have a name?" Fallon peered at him then from beneath her brow, "Of course. If you are far too busy dear warden..."

[Noven]

He barely managed a "Oy, heads up Keene!" before the dog pounced on the Initiate's face. Nov was half way across the hall to help the struggling young man when the bright flash of a red plume caught his eye. It hadn't occurred to him until then that there were actually differences between some of the creatures. But whatever indications a red tail possessed, he would have to find out later. Because right now a fierce greed bubbled up inside of the man. He had to have that one!

And just like that, the cook was off again, chasing after a new, particularly vibrant looking target.

At some point he thought he'd lost track of the thing. But then Nov rounded a corner and every muscle in his body froze. It was sitting right there, as if taking a quick break to lick its colorful fur back into place. Nov fancied the thing was a bit like a peacock, though he'd never seen the creatures in person before, and for some reason that only added to his prey's appeal.

Gripping both ends of his coat to spread them out like a net, he steadied his breathing for a moment before emerging from the corner of the corridor.

"Right then...that's it..." Noven inched his way toward the miniature canine, who was still seemingly absorbed in grooming its vividly crimson tail. He hardly dared to breathe with the amount of stealth he was trying to maintain. "Just sit there, don't move...no one's going to--petch stay put you nasty little bugger!"

His left boot had made the barest of scrapes against stone and sent the creature bounding in a new direction. Cursing a whole rainbow of expletives under his breath, Noven bunched his coat up in one hand and followed in hot pursuit.

"You're not getting away this time!" he shouted like a madman as he ran down hall after hall. Lumbering off after his fleeing prey with reckless, single minded determination, the merc completely lost sight of the others as he resumed his chase, coat flapping wildly in one hand. Nov had to jump and skip over several of the other canines, causing a whole mass of them to begin scattering in all different directions. He paid them no mind. There was one dog and one dog only he was going to catch.

Man and freaky three-eyed canine raced up and down the corridors, causing no small amount of ruckus and several stupefied passerby's to cry out in alarm. Thus far Nov had managed to plow anyone over. Yet. But he got dangerously close a handful of times.

And then, like a miracle designed by the gods themselves, the pursuer and the pursued reached a dead end.

The dog whimpered once and looked back, tongue lolling out as it panted from the recent chase. Maybe it was Noven's imagination, but he thought the creature looked...not afraid, like it should've. Instead it seemed almost chagrined, like it'd just lost a game.

Nevermind. That was nonsense. It had to be.

"You're mine now..." the man growled as he approached with spread coat in hand.

[Pulren Marsh]

What madness and chaos it was, catching these bizarre little creatures. It was the first time in a long time that the fisherman had an innocent good time. It wasn't fraught with sexual charges, violence, adult themes or even politics. It was just trying to catch one of these amazing and bizarre creatures. He wasn't having any of this 'research' done on anything he caught, however. It sounded as if it had the capacity to be cruel and cruelty to animals was not a thing Pulren was going to do. Cruelty to people had already been grounds for maiming and sometimes killing for the Zeltivan. An animal's life? His station as a representative would degrade rapidly in such a case.

Still down on his own haunches as Keene took the momentum of a gibbat to the extreme and Noven scrambled violently to catch his own, Pulren stayed where he was. His attention focused on one animal that was watching him as well. It seemed to sway in a way that suggested compliance, but he knew that should he leap or even move in a direction toward it, that would end the brief truce between them. "Come on. I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was calm and even. He meant what he said and he hoped that it would translate to the creature.

All of a sudden, its mouth opened and it jumped straight at him. Pulren rebounded out of his own paranoid reflexes, falling back on his rump. He naturally laughed, bleeding the sound as he looked down on the terrifying predator. It made a strange yelping sound and then began to bounce all over the room, stopping farther away but maintaining eye contact. "You don't mean actual research, do you Bitzer? I'm not having anything to do with harming these creatures." His eyes remained with it and he moved forward again, resuming the kneeling posture. The answer was surely no. If it was not no, he would try to save the one he was watching, at least.

[Keene Ward]

It was chaos, utter chaos. As Keene kept his back to the wall, eyes blinking with a blank confusion, Bitzer took a small amount of time to give him a small amount of insight into the antics before him. She spoke of amusement and entertainment, two things Keene had not and did not associate with the scene as it unfolded. The Gibbats bounded every which way, yapping and snarling, bouncing and rolling, all evading the eager hands and even more eager faces of their hunters. At the word "research" however, Keene raised a brow. They had not been on the island for very long, and yet their leader had thought it prudent to capture some of the local fauna for study? He had not pinned her as one given to such proclivities, but he supposed it wasn't beyond his preconceived ideas of the woman. She was as multifaceted as a finely cut gemstone, and he was hardly capable of an appraisal. "They're called Gibbat dogs." Returning the woman's jeer with an unamused raise of his brow, he concluded with, "You are well aware of my time commitments."

Bitzer seemed hardly interested in the short conversation, her eyes darting to the various balls of fluff that dashed to and fro. Keene gave her a curt nod to indicate that there was no more need for her to force herself away from what was quite obviously the preferred activity, though he made no move to assist. The use of magic within the halls of the citadel was restricted, and the volatile act of reimancy for anything short of very basic production and manipulation of res was forbidden. It also seemed as though the Scars desired the dogs alive, something that he had failed to do the last time he had tried to apprehend them. Unlike the other members, Keene was also, by far, the most physically inept. Watching them dart to and fro, Noven disappearing around a corner in a mad sprint, gave Keene the impression he would do poorly should he attempt to assist. Instead, he eyed "Uncle's" progress. He had the most academic approach, but it was proving as fruitless as the others. While he supposed he was fulfilling his duty of keeping and eye on the Scars, Keene found he wished he had spent a few more bells back in the prairie. The smell of dog had already begun to settle into the Quarters, and there was the distinct scent of urine and fecal matter beyond that which regularly filled the halls.

Having been decided as a non threatening entity in his stillness and impassivity, the dogs bounded past him, some stopping to blink up at him, all four eyes reflecting a distorted image before a shout or bark would pull them back into or away from the fray. Several of the beasts, having grown tired from the chase, padded over to sit beside him, their heads tracing Noven's wild movements as he dashed through the halls and into and out of the rooms. Those beside him were not the Scars' primary targets, but they had taken their fair share in the self-proclaimed "fun". A scratching at his leg drew Keene's attention down towards the whining Gibbat, that ushered an excited bark and a shake of its hindquarters at the successful attraction of Keene's attention. "What." A sharp bark. "I don't speak dog." There was a little growl, but the dog's tail still shook back and fourth as it tried to gnaw on his boot. "Get off. Shoo." He shook his foot to try to rid himself, but two more of the pesky creatures who had been herded down the hall joined in. In a short amount of time, the animals had made him into a dour chewing toy, as Keene half-heartedly batted away at them.

The few that jumped for his face were deflected by a weary arm, though it only seemed to make his head all the more desirable. In having attempted to remove himself from participation, Keene had found he'd only made matters worse for himself. "Stop. Stop it." A particularly tenacious creature had found his boot to be more than just a toy. "Get... What are you doing. That's a boot-" Another scratched at his calf, gnawing gently on his heel. "And you, I don't appreciate-" Having been distracted, one of the committed jumpers successfully landed on his head, though unable to find purchase, the legs flailed wildly for a few moment before Keene was able to shove it off of him and back into the furry onslaught. He was not enjoying himself.

[Fallon]

Keene looked far from impressed, the holler of Noven clear from behind. She gave only a smirk as she straightened herself up, clicking out as she proceeded to dust herself off. Slowly her grinning eased off, falling back to a satisfied expression and bright eyes. There was only a snort as she looked back to observe the antics of the others, watching their leaping about in an attempt to catch or lure one of the Gibbat dogs closer. Sucking in the air she looked to Palaren, his motions carefully inspected as he tried to continue his cooing.

"We are aware indeed," she sighed, "But, if you are in such a position where you cannot dare to think of such fun and it's participation, well..." She looked at him then, "I feel sorry for your commitments." All work and no play makes one a dull boy, came the throbbing thought within her mind. Her chin lifted when she heard the question come in her way. She simply gave Uncle a look, "The only research I'll be conducting is on what their diet consists of, how they handle socially and if they're actually well... make good pet animals?"

Pinching her brow she begun the mental formulation of the next plan, a few steps away as she moved to lead against the wall in an inspection of what was before her. It became apparent from both her own mad failing and Noven's similar, in comparison to the more subtle methods -even Keene's disinterested stance - drew more of them over. Her eyes looked down and across as the named creatures begun their curious nibbling of the warden. She raised only an eyebrow back, a low sniggering rumbling out as she watched the Gibbat Dogs become more acquainted with their desired target. Her brow only raised as he feebly tried to shoo them away.

"Seems you're popular, a real animal," there was a tease. Her fingers gave a drum upon her chin, watching the gentle gnawing. Her eyes narrowed, thinking, recording and storing mentally what was occurring - canine like behaviour, the similar impulses to that of a dog. Yapping, like a small dog - but those long rabbit ears and the ability to jump being noticeable. She snorted at the one that presently escaped his head, and bounded off with a yap to the rest of the swarming pack. The others continued their antics, leaving Fallon little choice but to go over and assist in freeing him.

Whistling she pressed off the wall, slow and steady steps, her form bending over to a crouch as came closer. It was the left hand she slid forward first, aiming for the young pup that was presently gnawing upon his trouser leg. Fingers wriggled, curling round as she leaned in and gave only a look back up to Keene, "Don't move. I got it."

Slow, careful, she watched the ears twitch and the head turned to look back, tiny teeth still pulling at fabric. She took it, the coat being dropped and the other hand coming over to rest upon its back as it pulled in retaliation. It growled, wriggling as she tugged gently and moved onto the other portion of the pup's removal. The fingers pinched, gentle and pressing, moving up to the underbelly as she pulled and received the brief glances from the others. She hummed to it, a low whisper really as her digits begun to tickle and the hold slowly loosen, "Come on, come on now. Come to me..."

[Noven]

He made sure to stay low to the ground, coat spread between both hands in a makeshift net. The dog didn't move. It just sat there, tongue lolling and head cocked quizzically to one side. Every muscle on Nov's body was tensed for action as he approached step by step. Now that had the bloody creature cornered, he didn't want to risk leaving any escape routes exposed. Several of the dogs had ran straight through his legs during the Scars' first attempts, which the merc presently hoped to counter, hence the obnoxious, crab-like advance.

He was only a few feet away. Close enough to pounce. No, not yet. There was no point in attacking prematurely. Better to wait until the chance was ripe, when there could be no doubt he'd succeed this time.

This was it. Nov was sure of it.

And, just when he dove in for the kill, arms sweeping the coat-net forward in full anticipation that fabric meet fur, the dog gave a lively yip and bounded right over the stupefied mercenary's head.

It took a tick for Noven to react. "Ruros's...bleedin' balls!" he spat incredulously before springing back into action.

Hall after hall, their chase went on. It must have lasted for at least another ten or so chimes--not that Nov was at all concerned with keeping track. He hadn't been this fixated on anything since the night the orphans were rescued. All other thoughts, worries, and burdens fell away, even if for only a little while, in this mad pursuit of three eyed pests.

He'd be a liar if he said this entire trip wasn't, in fact, one giant, overwhelming distraction on its own. The man was running--from his past, from his present, and from his future--and he knew it. A hundred and one things had gone wrong back home and it brought on a fresh headache just to think about it. But this...this was a good sort of running. A necessary sort. It was like he'd spent too long staring at one spot in the wall and could no longer remember how it had got there, where stain began and wood ended, or why walls even existed in the first place. Not to mention that after so much evasion, so much distancing from everything he'd ever known, it just felt good to run toward something for a change.

For the first time in a long time, Noven desired a thing for himself. Even if it was as senseless of a thing as a furry, three eyed pest. And he was going to catch the petching little wretch or die trying.

Oblivious to the own ludicrous severity with which he'd committed to this cause, the cook pelted after his target at full speed. He didn't even realize they had returned to the original hallway where the rest of the Scars plus one unwilling Initiate still milled about. He had eyes only for his prey, because Nov was about to go all in. There were too many dogs and humans crowded in the corridor; the creature he was forced to slow, jumping and wiggling its way past its kin.

With one last, extra burst of speed, Nov launched himself forward. For one, glorious, horrifying moment, he was parallel to the ground, arms outstretched and coat spread.

Then he was tumbling, tucking his body in at the last tick to cushion most of the impact. The merc rolled and rolled, not caring where he landed, only that he kept his coat tucked tightly to his chest.

It took a while for him to realize he'd stopped. Slowly unfurling himself, a panting Noven cracked open his eyes one at a time as he looked down. There was a squirming, whining bundle in his arms, trying valiantly to free itself from the makeshift prison. He sat up with a dazed expression, arms still firmly locked around his prize. At some point, the dog managed to squeeze its head out for a gulp of fresh air, but it got no farther. Its captor made sure of it.

Nov looked around at his companions as his face split into a ridiculous grin. He didn't say anything, just sat there, feeling as though he'd caught a hundred gold mizas instead of just one of the lousy, foreign beasties.

But then he saw Keene, fighting off half a dozen critters with about as much will--and success--as a freshly laundered shirt. He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, slapping his knee once with a free hand. Even the dog tucked firmly under his arm seemed amused and yipped along in canine glee. The sudden sound startled some of the pests trying to gnaw on the Initiate, but they were quick to return to their primary interest.

"Well, gods be damned, Keene," Nov shook his head, genuinely bewildered. "If we'd known they'd take such a fancy to you, we ought to have just used you as bait right from the beginning!"