Flowers for the ForgottenThe streets of Five Corners told many stories. Although the characters and themes were always different, they all shared the subtle magic that permeated the Ward. Some were stories of romance, of triumph, of disappointment, of farce. And others still were of tragedy and loss. And as Goran watched the young girl across the street, he suspected her story was the latter. He'd seen her before; a willowy creature, hardly a wisp of a girl. Lavender eyes and raven hair, she'd occasionally smiled at him as she made her way to wherever it was she happened to be going that day. From the uniform and armload of books she always had, he suspected she must be a student at the university. A bizarre fox-creature always trailed at her heels, practically strutting in comparison to her timid gait. But today the creature was no where to be seen. Only a handful of lilies accompanied her that autumn afternoon. Lilies and tears. Wearing an ill-fitting dress, she strode resolutely to an unassuming section of the street and knelt down. With a solemn grace, she laid several of the lilies upon the street and then stood, walking several paces before repeating the action once more. By then, her pale cheeks were stained with tears. She stood there, a ghost amongst the living, people passing her by without notice or regard. She sniffed, smiling through the obvious anguish as she spoke to someone. To someone she did not wish forgotten. A pair of delivery men pulled up in a wagon across the street and began carting off sacks of grain and pallets of vegetables for one of the local restaurants. Chatting between themselves, they didn't see the girl until it was almost too late. One of the grain sacks fell from the older man's shoulder, nearly crushing Tear as she crouched by the curb. As he retrieved his sack from the gutter, the man began to curse at the timid girl. "What in the bloody blazes do you think you're doing? Brainless wench. This is a sidewalk, not a museu..." "Let her be," a warning voice rang out from the street. When Tear looked up, she saw a tall, lanky young man with shaggy auburn hair and a pageboy cap had trotted across the street and now stood by her side. She had seen this man before. He lived in the neighborhood, on the second floor of one of the buildings on her way home from school. She remembered him because he was often on his porch, playing a guitar-like instrument and singing in a strange, foreign tongue. Occasionally, he smiled at her as she passed by. He was not smiling now. The older man began to argue. "Didn't you see her? What in the name of--" "I said -- Let. Her. Be." Goran snarled menacingly, the ominous calm of his words more frightening than if he had shouted them. His blue eyes shot icy daggers at the belligerent delivery man. Based on the way he was balling his fists, it appeared the man was considering taking a swing at the young girl's protector, but Goran's hard stony stillness gave him pause. Finally, his associate said, "C'mon, Mutt. We got work to do." With an angry huff, the man hefted his sack and continued on, shooting Goran one last enraged glance from a safe distance. Goran stared the men down the sidewalk, then turned to Tear and allowed a concerned smile to soften his features. "Are you all right, Meess?" Now that the danger had passed, Tear noticed a hint of an accent in the man's voice. Though she did not recognize it, it seemed to match whatever language she had heard him sing all those times she passed his porch. Tear stood in the street, watching the men continue on their way. She hugged herself, violet eyes brimming with tears. The shock of nearly being injured numbed her, the hot flush of humiliation clouded her mind. She felt trapped here, rooted to the spot and unable to let this horror end. No one had assailed her in such a fashion before. And the threat of violence still hung in the air, making her shake. If she could have crawled inside her own skin and disappeared, she would have done so without hesitation. Finally, she realized the man who had come to her rescue had asked her a question. She sniffed back her tears, drying her cheeks with a sleeve. "I. I don't know," she stuttered, gazing at him. Her hands fluttered like wounded birds and suddenly she was stumbling. Goran's reflexes were quick. He caught her by the arms before she realized what was happening, her face ending up inches from his chest. "Whoa," he said as he righted her. He bent his lanky frame down to her level, his hands strong but surprisingly gentle as he continued to hold her arms to support her. His blue eyes scanned her pale face worriedly, then he made a decision. "Come," the kind man said firmly. "You need to sit. We'll go..." he looked toward a pretty cafe up the street, but realizing it was in the same direction as the delivery men went, changed his mind. "...there." He pointed toward a smaller pub in the opposite direction. The girl nodded weakly, being guided along without question or complaint. She felt ethereal in his arms as they walked. It would be slow going; Tear pausing to catch her balance time and again. Her deep eyes would gaze up at him, apologetic and pained. Goran looked more and more concerned as she continued to stumble, wondering if she had indeed been injured. If it hadn't been too forward to pick her up and carry her, he would have. Instead, he held her tightly to keep her steady. Fortunately, by the time they reached the outdoor café, her strength had begun to return. She slumped into a wooden chair and stared back the way they'd come. Tear rubbed her shoulders, as if cold. "I'm sorry, sir. I. They just. Not good day. Forgive me. You're very kind." Her eyes lowered, unable to meet his; the shame coloring her cheeks. Goran removed the soft leather vest he was wearing and draped it over the girl's shoulders, then flagged down a server before taking a seat across the table from her. "No apologies, my dear. It was not your fault." He smiled at her, his teeth white and even and his blue eyes sparkling genially. "I'm Goran. Goran Vladic. I've seen you walking, usually with lots of books. Who are you, Miss Bookworm?" He lowered his head to search for her eyes, trying to gently draw her out. Tear stared over at him with her wide violet eyes, trying to determine if he was having fun at her expense. She smiled faintly, realizing the nickname was well-meant. She let out a slight laugh and sniffed again. With a deep breath, she gained enough strength to speak. "Solitaire. But most people call me Tear. Spasibo, Mr. Vladic. Vy ochen' l'ubezny, chtoby pomoch' glupoj devochke." [OOC: Heh, before you ask, it's Russian for "You are kind to help a silly girl."] Goran cackled with delighted surprise, leaning back in his chair and grinning widely. Her smile lightened for a moment. "You're. The music man. Yes?" "Yes, but you don't get off that easy," he said, pointing at her playfully. But she did get off easy, at least for a moment. The waiter came over to take their order. Goran waved his hand to Tear, indicating she should go first. "Whatever you like," he said to her. "I buy." Tear opened her mouth to decline, but then thought better of it. She didn't wish to offend her new savior, nor did she have the strength to leave this comfortable chair. After a deep sigh, she gazed up at the waiter. "I would like the gumbo and the snapper with dirty rice, please," she said. "Oh. And a wheat beer, please. And hot tea at the end. Thank you." She brushed her bangs from her face, waiting for Goran to order. "The gumbo sounds good, but I'll have it with the shrimp, please," Goran ordered. "Wheat beer sounds good also. But skip the tea." "Yes, sir," the waiter replied politely and departed. Once Goran had finished, Tear smiled nervously at him. "You. Really didn't. Need to do that, Master Goran." He waved dismissively. "Was nothing. I'm hungry and I would enjoy good company. And no 'Master.' Goran only, eh?" He grinned at her. "Now. How you know Russo?" He settled back in his chair to wait for her answer. Tear shrugged her shoulders, the timid smile returning for a moment. "When I was thirteen, I found an old Shadow Earth tome written by one of the Elder Amberites. But it was in Russian. So, I spent a few weeks learning the language. I rather enjoyed it. Not that I have the opportunity to use it much." She cocked her head, violet eyes twinkling with interest. "I recognized the accent though. Although, it isn't quite Russian, is it?" Somehow, the concept of languages had erased the thoughts of being humiliated in the street completely from her mind. "No. It's not even Shadow Earth, but one close enough so the difference is minimal. I come originally from the republic of Srebija, which is oh... several hundred miles to the southwest of Russo in that shadow." He leaned forward, resting his elbows lazily on the table. "So you know about shadows then? Many, especially your age, do not." "Oh!" Tear said, blushing brightly. She glanced down, ashamed with herself. "I'm sorry. I. Assumed. I hope I didn't offend. You." She pinched the meat between her thumb and index finger, muttering an admonishment to herself. Goran looked confused, wondering why she would think him offended. With her head lowered, though, Tear did not see his expression. Without looking up, she shrugged her shoulders. "I've read about them. I'm training to travel in them, but for now…" She let out a sigh. "For now I am to remain in Amber. And I'm not that young. I'm nineteen. Almost twenty now. "No. You're that young," Goran grinned with big-brother-like experience. Tear opened her mouth to protest and then frumped instead, putting her hands on her sides. Her head tilted slightly, revealing her delicate throat, but it was the quirky humor in her eyes that revealed her beauty the best. She wrinkled her nose before continuing. "Actually, if I wasn't working so hard on my Elementalism, I'm sure my Logrus Manipulation would be much more advanced. But I've not focused on my training hard enough." The manner in which she spoke, the opinion was someone else's, but she'd been made to believe it irrefutably. Goran's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Not focused?! I find that hard to believe," he gasped incredulously. "I see you all the time and it's never been without a stack of books. What more does your master want? Does he not believe in sleep?" "Well, I do get at least four hours a night," Tear admitted shamefully. "I could shave off a few more I'm sure. Wait…" She raised an eyebrow, "You see me all the time?" It wasn't an accusation. It sounded almost... hopeful. Goran nodded. "You said it yourself. I'm the guitar man. You pass my porch all the time. Usually with some..." he waved his hand in the air, looking for the right word, "fox-cat thing, but always with books. I recognized you. That's why I stop to help." He blushed a little and shrugged. "I probably would've helped any lady in trouble, but since you've smiled at me before, it was certain I would help you," he said with a grin. He might have been teasing her, but if so, there was clearly no malice behind it. "Tanstaafl," Tear said, trying to hide her shyness. "The fennec-thingie you saw me with. He's my… familiar. Sort of." She shrugged and sat up in her chair. She gazed at him for a moment, charmed by his voice and humor. "Thank you again, Master Goran," she said. "They. Caught me at a bad time. I should have been paying closer attention. I'm glad you were more aware." She folded her hands into her lap. "Are you a musician in Five Corners?" "Not professionally," he replied, looking up with a smile as the waiter delivered their meals. He sniffed appreciatively at the dish in front of him and thanked the waiter. When the server left, Goran continued. "I just like to play. It relaxes me. Makes me think of old times. Friends long gone." He paused and gazed at her, cocking his head sympathetically. "What were you thinking of today?" he asked, his accent creeping back into his voice as it always did when he began to drop his guard. Tear's fork dropped from her fingers. The sound startled her and she shivered. Sorrow returned to her violet eyes as she gazed back down the street. Goran looked alarmed and started to apologize but before he could say anything, she held up her hand to quiet him. "It's okay," she said sadly. "You didn't know." She sighed faintly and shrugged her willowy shoulders. "Today is the anniversary of my parent's murder," she said, fighting back the tears. "They were killed. Where you saw me. Assassins. Trying to strike out against the Chaosian occupation. It was very, very long ago. But. I need to remember." There was something in Goran's eyes that was unlike what Tear usually saw when she told someone new about her parents. Usually, there was discomfort, followed by empty words like "Oh, how horrible," or "I know how you must feel," which of course was never true. Then there would be the quick subject change as if the conversation had never happened. Goran, however, did not avert his gaze. He cocked his head, studying her, then nodded in what seemed to be not just sympathy, but understanding. He poured from the water pitcher to top off her glass and pushed it toward her gently as she finished. The sad girl accepted the glass readily, taking a sip to calm her nerves before continuing. Tear attempted a half smile. "It's all that's left of them. If I forget. Then they died. For nothing. Does that make sense?" "Perfect sense," he assured her as he leaned forward intently, his meal forgotten. "I am sorry... so sorry... that those men interrupted your vigil. You are correct that you must honor your parents. Honest people who..." He sighed and lowered his head, searching for the words in Thari for the strong emotions he was obviously feeling. He shook his head sadly, gazing down at his clasped hands on the tablecloth. "Wars," he finally muttered in Russo, which Tear seemed to understand, but which Goran doubted anyone else would. "The stupidity of it all. The ones who are hurt the most are never the ones who deserve to be." He looked up at her, his blue eyes softened with empathy. "Who were your parents? Tell me about them," he asked, still in Russo, then added with a gentle smile, "Please." Tear stared at him for a moment, her violet eyes flickering with pleased surprise. A curl formed at the corner of her mouth, even as her brow furrowed. She'd not met someone that might truly understand or share her pain. She could see the aura of loss hovering around Goran like a fata morgana. Before she knew what she was doing, Tear leaned forward and laid her hands upon Goran's clenched fists. In that instant, they were connected. They might never meet again, but they would be forever bound together with ties of empathy. Goran raised his head in surprise at her sudden gesture, but did not pull his hands away. She smiled as best she could manage. "Casnodyn Enyhollow and Baroness Melantha Helgram," she said. "I don't think you could have found two more different people. At least, that's what my uncle tells me. You see, I was a baby when they were killed. My mother died protecting me. So, all I have of them is etchings and stories." Goran nodded thoughtfully. "Mama was a beautiful Chaosian diplomat and Papa was an Amberite Artificer. She believed in languages and philosophy, he in facts and gears. But they both loved books. That's how they met. In a bookstore. Heh. I guess that's why they're in my blood." Goran smiled and squeezed her hands. "Yes, that explains it then," he agreed. Tear raised her eyes, meeting Goran's. "The ones you lost. Who were they?" Goran looked genuinely surprised that she had seen into his thoughts, but realized then that he hadn't exactly been hiding them. He gazed down at their joined hands silently for a long moment, pondering how much to say about a subject of which he so rarely spoke. Tear knew infinite patience and allowed him the moment to compose his words and feelings. Her thumb brushed his soothingly, her silence filled with comfort. "My /majka/," he said softly, his head still lowered. 'Mother', Tear recognized. "And my uncle. In a war. In my homeland." He sighed. "It was senseless. She had done nothing but try to warn me to escape." Goran looked back up at Tear with a sad smile. "So it seems we have that in common, eh? Mothers who protect us. To their deaths." "I guess that makes us like brother and sister, huh?" Tear said honestly. She gave him a tender smile. "I always wanted a brother." Goran looked completely taken aback. Her cheeks blushed and she began to pull away. "I'm sorry. I've just met you. And yet. That's sort of how I feel. Stupid, huh?" Despite Tear's discomfort, Goran did something unexpected. He laughed - a deep, jovial laugh right from the heart. "Oh, forgive me. I..." he waved his hand before him dismissively, trying to stop before he hurt her feelings. "No. Ees' not stup... oh, all right, it ees but..." He grinned at her, his eyes twinkling mirthfully. "But little sisters are supposed to be stupid, aren't they?" He reached for her hands again before she could get the wrong idea and run away. "I would be honored, Tear, to have you as sister," he smiled affectionately. "And it was just unexpected. You're not stupid. I think in this family, you be the smart one, eh?" His perception and instinct saved her from bolting right there and then. Mortified that she'd offended the only man to be kind to her, to understand that aspect of her, Tear had begun to rise to flee. She flinched at his touch initially. But as he spoke, she relaxed and began to smile. In the end she let out a giggle. "I guess so." She picked up her glass and raised it in a toast. "To new. Family?" "Yes," he said, raising his glass to hers. "To little sisters." He clinked his glass to hers and drank. Then he retrieved his plate, remembering how hungry he was. Over his fork, he resumed the conversation. "So, you have studies? Where you go to school?" Relieved to be talking about something else, Tear began to expound at length on her various classes at the University. Her favorites included the various language and alchemy classes, while theoretical Logrus physics topped the list. She was not a great storyteller, but the passion with which she spoke made up for the lack of social skill. Before long, Goran knew her entire academic history. "It's all very taxing, but I enjoy it tremendously," she said. "I'm very lucky to have been given these opportunities." Goran valiantly managed to take it all in without his eyes glazing over at all the technical terms. It was fortunate that he was the type of person that liked to know how things work. She patted her lips with her napkin and pushed her empty plate away. For a little woman, she had a tremendous appetite. "So, you're from Shadow," she said. "What brought you here to Amber?" "All roads lead to Amber. Eventually," he smiled, taking another bite of his meal. When he could speak again, he explained, "I knew someone who lived here. Thought I'd come look him up when I had a break in my journeys." He shrugged. "Turns out he doesn't live here anymore. But in the meantime, I got a job and made other friends here, so I decide to stay." "Oh good!" Tear said, clapping her hands lightly. "That means I'll see more of you. Many of the musicians in Five Corners don't stay. They jump on a boat out into Shadow. Only the really good ones stay. And you're good. Very good. It's a shame you didn't find your friend though." "Thank you," Goran said, blushing slightly. Tear pulled on her ear thoughtfully and then smiled. "What's his name? Maybe I know him. I know the people in Five Corners. They're very friendly, although I can't really call anyone friends. Do you know what I mean? But if you have the name, I could ask around. Maybe you can find out where they went." She tilted her head, blushing. "Although. I'm not sure I'd want to tell you. If it meant you'd leave. I've only just found you. But I like. This. "That terribly selfish of me. I'm sorry." Goran chuckled. "That's all right. I've already asked around. It was many years ago that he left. Probably before you were born. And I've found new friends here, where I work, and you," he grinned, clearly pleased that he could add that last person. Tear blushed brightly and smiled in thanks. She ran a fingertip around the lip of her goblet, making a soft tone. "So you like music?" he asked. As the night began to settle upon Five Corners, a waiter came by and lit the table's lamp and refreshed their drinks. When he was gone, Tear nodded. "Yes. I make music boxes. But. I've never really learned a true instrument. I'd like to learn the cello. I find it very somber and soothing. But I also like a good jig. I once considered building a wind-up phonograph. I even have the sketches for its construction. But then I realized. Plastics don't exist in Amber. So, I can't import these record-things people tell me about." Goran grinned at her enthusiasm. She sighed happily, "I love the harmonics, I guess. It reminds me of the Logrus. It's both soothing and exciting and stirring. Some of my best work comes after listening to a street performer." A goofy smile warmed her features. "Remember the day you were playing Yellow Leaves Were Whispering? I went home after listening to that and came up with the first equations in my Elemental Binding ritual. That got me the highest grade in my Formulaics class." Goran leaned back in his seat, his eyes sparkling mirthfully. "Slow down, mali ptica(little bird)," he chuckled. "I'm glad I could be of service. I like that song. It reminds me of some from Srebija. Srebijan songs are much longer, though. More like epic poems with gusle accompanying. Some run for an hour or more. Think what you'd accomplish if I played one of those!" "I should teach you gusle," Goran decided. "It's like small cello with one string. Takes a light, quick touch." "A gusle?" Tear said, smiling brightly. She rested her chin upon her hand, her elbows leaning on the table. "It sounds very interesting. Perhaps. Maybe. I should try a lesson or two. And a single string sounds perfect for me. I'm not very creative when it comes to. Well, creative things. All my inspiration goes into my work. Which is rather dull, I know." She tilted her head in her hands, "Are you a good teacher?" "Of course," Goran grinned, not a bit modestly. "And don't let the one string fool you. It's more difficult than it sounds. You have to use the bow and bend the string at the same time to get the right sound. My majka was very good. She used to play and sing at our cafe. She taught me. I actually prefer guitar now, but gusle is special. It's like home." Tear smiled softly, listening to the wistfulness in his voice. She didn't wish to disturb him speak; his voice soothing her. It reminded her of family. "And what about your home, eh? You did not just appear on the street with flowers. You live nearby?" he asked, settling back in his chair comfortably and sipping his coffee. "Oh. Yes. I live only a little ways from here," she said, "Do you know that two story Spanish Colonial at the end of Barrow Square? The one with the ivy. That's my home. I used to live with my uncle. But when I turned eighteen last year, I thought it was time. To live on my own. That is. With my school and experiments at all hours, it wasn't fair to Uncle Gloomy. I used some of my family's money and bought that place. Fixed it up. Grew my herb garden. It's very nice." Tear blushed shyly, "Maybe. You could. Come over and visit some time? You'd be more than welcome." This time it was Goran's turn to blush, and with his fair skin and reddish hair, he blushed brightly. "I would like that but... is it proper? A young girl alone? You should be careful, inviting a man to your home. I am harmless, but you don't know that. Others might not be." By the end of his speech, he sounded more like a big brother than a potential suitor. At least, it was what Tear imagined a big brother would sound like. Tear shrugged, "Well, I don't live alone. I have Tanstaafl. And he's very protective. Especially when it comes to me. And I've only had one other man over. For dinner. I'm a grown woman now. Sorta. It's time I started having houseguests." She brushed a bang from her face and chuckled softly. For a moment, she appeared perfectly at ease with this line of conversation. And it surprised even her, as evidenced by the blush that soon formed on her cheeks and ears. "I hope I'm not sounding forward." "No," Goran replied, a bit surprised by her sudden expression of confidence. He smiled sheepishly. "Forgive me. I didn't mean you could not take care of yourself. I just..." He chuckled at himself. "Sometimes I get... ah." He waved off the sudden bout of embarrassment, but blushed even more. Tear giggled softly, covering her mouth with her hand. It was rare to meet someone could become as easily flustered as herself. Before he thought she was laughing at him, she gave him a good-natured smile. "Forget it," he said, digging money out of his pocket to pay the bill, which had been placed in front of him quite some time ago by an impatient waiter anxious for his next cover. "It is not my place. I get too protective sometimes. I would be happy to visit you. And to meet your... Tanstaafl?" Taking his lead, Tear stood up and collected her things. She gave a light nod. "Uh-huh. He's my friend. Although he pretends not to be. We can stop for beignets on the way there. He's easier to handle when you have food. His mouth is usually too full say anything." Goran chuckled at her strategy. She paused. "Wait. You did mean now, right? I have some time. If. You do. And I can make you some coffee. It's the least I can do for all your generosity tonight." Her violet eyes continued to flicker in the growing shadows; her rounded face aglow with timid hope. "Yes," he nodded with a grin. "I would like to walk you home. See you safe there. And I'll let you be the judge of how best to tame the Tanstaafl." Goran escorted her from the restaurant, his manners more gentlemanly than one would expect of most men of his apparent rank. As they passed the place where Tear had laid the lilies on the sidewalk, however, he squeezed her elbow gently to stop her. "A moment," he said, removing his hat. Tear paused and stood there silently. His actions confused her, but she dared not interrupt. Something about his solemn nature precluded interference. She wrung her hands in front of her, watching him with a deep innocence. He held the hat over his heart and murmured softly in his native tongue, his head bowed. Tear, from her studies of Shadow Earth, recognized it as a variant of a Russian Orthodox prayer. "Remember, O Lord, the souls of Thy servants who departed in this place so many years ago; forgive them every transgression; grant them the Kingdom and a part in Thy eternal joys, and the delight of Thy blessed and everlasting life." He bowed respectfully and crossed himself, then placed his hat back on his head and smiled bashfully at Tear. "Now we can go." Tear smiled sadly at him, her violet eyes misting. "That was very sweet of you," she managed before the tears finally came. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Then, without asking—a sign of pure trust he suspect—she took his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked. Tiny sniffles escaped her, but otherwise the waterworks remained at bay. His presence comforted her and for once, she could share this dark time with someone else. Someone that understood. Goran was startled by the kiss and Tear's closeness, but he understood her need for his touch. How he had longed for that closeness himself in those lonely years after Srebija. The longing had eventually faded, eased to some extent with lovers and learning in the myriad shadows he had explored over the last decades. But he realized now it had never truly gone away. He savored this girl's touch. It was not simply the touch of a woman, but of a friend. He reached over with his free hand and ruffled her hair affectionately. Tear let out a contented giggle, giving him a light punch on the thigh. But, much to her own surprise, she did not pull away from the contact. It felt right, it felt real and grounded. She gazed up at him adoringly, a thousand years of faith and comfort in their companionship passing in a matter of seconds. Eventually, she straightened up and slid her hand into his. They walked along, fingers entwined, as if they'd been friends for a hundred years. They bought pastries and head 'home.' Her house did not disappoint. Hedges and vines wove around a high wrought-iron fence, obscured the building from the street. A leafy archway led into a rounded patio with Spanish tiling and mosaic designs. A little swing seat and some chairs overlooked a burbling fountain of alabaster. The gabled front door hung open slightly, casting a thin beam of light on the stoop. Almost as Tear's foot touched the landing, a pointy nose emerged from the door, followed promptly by a ball of ears and fur. Goran immediately recognized the fox-thing that usually followed his companion about. "Damnation, where have you be…?" Tanstaafl sputtered, his tail fluttering in annoyance and worry. He paused upon seeing Goran and narrowed his beady eyes. "And who the Hell is this!?" Tear bent down and smoothed out Tanstaafl's fur, "This is Goran. He's my new friend. He's been very kind to me. So treat him with respect." As Tanstaafl's eyes narrowed, Goran's widened. He had only seen the fennec at a distance before. He had never realized its full abilities. Goran leaned over toward Tear when she stood once again, never taking his eyes off the animal. "It talks," he said in an amazed undertone. "You noticed that all on your own, mudack*?" Tanstaafl rolled his eyes. He glanced over at Tear. "Wow, you really know how to pick them. There's tea on the stove and your Godmother dropped off some shrimp-crab rolls. You get to guess which ones I didn't lick while you were out being a hussy." (*mudack = dumb-ass) He flicked his tail indignantly and padded back inside. But before the fennec could enter the house, Goran snarled, "Hey! Get your furry a$$ back here and apologize to the lady." There was no mistaking from the tone of his voice or the daggers in his glare that the man was not joking. Tear smiled apologetically to Goran; her cheeks burning brightly. "I'm sorry. I. Should have. Told him I'd be late. But. He does seem to like you. DO you still want to come in?" Tanstaafl paused, his tail standing rigidly in the air. It twitched once. Twice. And then he turned around. Beady eyes glittered in the lamp light. For a moment, his fur stood out, as if ready for a fight. His lips curled back into what looked like a snarl… but then a laugh escaped him. It was a smirk. "I'm sorry, Tear. The gentleman is quite correct." He turned to Goran. "You have balls, mudack. I think I'm going to like you." Goran nodded once, returning the smirk. “Likewise,” he replied. And with that, Tanstaafl walked off, leaving a very amazed Tear standing in his wake. "He never says that. Never!" |
