At 08:35 PM 6/6/2016, Jack Moore wrote:
AN: This one is killing me because this is my
first section writing Misha. Oh God...
Patrol VI
Nemo had for the last few days explored the
city, looking for potential sources of income
for when he transformed. Today though he had
stayed at our home with a feeling of...something
off. Just something off the entire time.
"Am I changing?" He held up his hands. "I...I
think I am but...maybe not. I won't change right
away..." I walked in and found Nemo still examining his hands.
"Yes they're dirty and need to be washed." I
said. "The problem is we can't get clean here
and this city smells like animal shit."
Hey, we do our best to keep it clean. Just avoid those latrine towers. ;-)
Misha always seems like a walking armory to me.
I still remember what he looked like when he saw
me. His face was scared and his eyes cold as
stone. They focused on the two of us as we approached.
I should mention before I continue, my friend,
that Misha Brightleaf was well known in the
Keep, or at least it seemed that way. He was
well respected. People liked him. To all those
people I warn you to stop reading now.
Oh Misha Brightleaf. Oh how you annoy me.Â
In Isenport there is a red wax stamp merchants
use called the Mister Nasty stamp. They put it
on jars to let illiterate customers know this
jar holds deadly poison that should be stayed
away from. Misha if I had my way, you'd wear one on your forehead.
LOL! Nice inversion of the usual Misha trope for newbies!
For now all Misha did was cock his head at my
guise. He scratched his muzzle in confusion.
"Uh you are here for the patrol right?" Why else
would we be here twit. Misha's eyes weren't on
Nemo, just on me. You'd think he'd never seen a man in a dress before.
Dont' you mean sarong? ;-)
"We don't have to be." I said. "We could turn around and leave right now."
"Yes we are." Nemo said over my protests. "I am
Nemo and this is my charge, James of Isenport."
He said it automatically in his usual
professional way. He'd said those words a
thousand times but he left a few words out.
I'm just James of Isenport. My stomach dropped.
Not future Lord of Isenport. Already this and
the stupid patrol put me in a bad mood.
"Okay..." Misha said. "I was told to expect two men."
"I am a man!" I snarled at them, "I ain't lost
my dick yet!" Nemo actually facepalmed at this. Misha looked bemused. "What!?"
"Well we're going to be going into the woods
north of the Keep and you're wearing what looks
like a big dress. That's going to rip, I'd go put on pants."
"It's not a damn dress! It's a sarong!" I
shouted at him. "I am not changing a thing!"
"Hey!" Misha snapped back. "Don't you yell at
me. You want to wear a dress in the woods? Fine,
you'll pay for it." I rolled my eyes. Misha I
noticed visibly clenched "We're leaving now. I gave you a chance."
Misha is acting like a guy who drew the short
straw who now has to put up with a bunch of newbs. ;-)
I took a chance to examine my two
anthro-companions for this forced death march.
The one closest to me was a meerkat. He had tan
colored fur badly tangled with twigs and dirt
streaked throughout. His eyes were orange and
playful. His cloak was a tattered forest green,
also streaked with dirt. It only went down to
his knees, his legs extended past the hem of his pants by a few inches.
The meerkat had a crossbow in his hands that he
rubbed occasionally. Peaking out from over his
shoulder was a quiver half empty. I hoped I
wouldn't see him have to use the bow tonight. He
seemed ready for anything. His name was Bos.
The female canine only came up to his chest. Her
fur was smooth, freshly combed and a red-honey
color. Her eyes were dark blue and her lips held
in a small smile. Her hands were clasped behind
her back and her shoulders were stiff. She wore
dark leather armor with a short sword tied to her waste. Her name was Shema.
Bos and Shema, like Aaryn, would be in my life
for years to come. They would be two of my most
stalwart companions. More importantly they would
be two of my best friends. And thus they met me
saying the only appropriate thing at the time.
"Are you a dog or some shit?" I asked the female. She laughed.
"I had to do some research but I am a dhole."
She extended a clawed hand. "My name is Shema."
I raised my hand but dropped it before they
could see my new claws. "uh, this is my first
patrol. I believe everyone except our vulpine
leader is here for the first time."
Buahahaha, I know what a dhole is. ;-)
"I guess." I said. "I don't want to be here."
"Ah yoo'll geh ussed to eeeh-t!" The meerkat
said, slapping me on the back and almost causing
me to fall over. I don't know what surprised me
more, the slap or that accent. I did a double take.
"Excuse me?"
"Ih'll be fun tonight." The meerkat smiled.
"Ah'm Bos. Yoo?" What accent is that? This was a
man no matter where he was on Earth, he'd always be foreign.
Nice accent there. I never can do those very well.
"My names is James, future Lord of Isenport." I
said. "You may address me as James or better
yet, not at all." Both of my companions frowned.
It's the belief of nobles that people are happy
to put up with their crap just for the chance to
bask in their presence. This idea is wrong.
Ah, poor James, still hasn't figured it out yet.
"You two are armed as well, are we going to be in danger?"
"I was attacked the day I got here." Shema said.
"I think that's reason enough to be armed."
"Besise scale-tail" Bos said with a grin, "Ihs
fun shoo-in arrows!" He made a mock archery
stance to emphasize the point. The sound of clapping interrupted us.
Scale-tail, eh? Love it!
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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