Battle of the Breads
Characters: WyldHeart, Tagger, Christopher
Location: FV:Bakery:Main Room
It's been a rough couple of weeks outdoors. Fall has roared in with full force, bitter winds ripping the remaining leaves away from the already barren tree branches. It is about two in the morning, and the ground has a good layer of frost. Soft little pads, walk quietly across the frozen ground. Green eyes peek inside the bakery window, scanning the darkness. Seeing nobody about, the little cat starts messing with a side window, picking at the wood with her claws until she can jiggle it free. She opens it just enough to wiggle through, dropping to the floor quietly with an empty burlap sack over her shoulder.
The bakery gives off a light smell of yeast and dough, as the days works slowly cool in the kitchen. And even though a certain otter has been living here for the last couple of days. It still has the just savory aroma to wake him. He yawns stretching his limps to life as he ponders what can he nick from the kitchen tonight. He hasn't been caught yet. Its only a matter of time. He pulls on his tunic (the only thing on right now). Its just too cold to go down nekkid. He then starts to make his way down stairs. Not being too quiet as he yawns and licks his chops.
WyldHeart has crept across the floor, over the brand new counter-top and into the kitchen. When she arrives to the kitchen, she spots the loaves and bits that have been left out- disguarded, and starts hastily shoving them into her bag. The cat is so involved in this task, that she does not hear the big, loud, half nakid otter coming down the stairs.
Tagger hums quietly to himself as he makes the short little turn from the stairs to the kitchen. What he sees next, well... Just throws his brain out the door. There is somebeast here... A cat? The otter stands in the door way his mouth hanging slightly open as his brain (and adrenaline) catch up and he says, in a very ottery fashion, "Can i help you?" His brain just realizing that he has no armor or weapons on.
WyldHeart on the other paw, is pretty well armed. At her hip is a rather yucky looking short sword. She turns, quick as- well a cat- to stare at.. "OTTER." Why?! They are nature's bane, sent here to frown and ruin every aspect of every thing everywhere at the same time. "I'mma fine." Keeping her eyes on the otter, she continues to stuff the bag full, more full than she intended, as she has a feeling she won't be able to pinch from this place anytime soon.
Tagger is starting to get his Camp Willow training in his brains (as much good it will do against that blade), just in case. But so far he hasn't made any sign of being aggressive. He does raise a questioning eyebrow and point at the bag, saying quiet loudly "Do you plan to pay for those?" he knows the answer already. But he gives her the benefit for now.
"I try 'ta pay before." The Wildcat says rather matter-o-factly, "The stoat dun wan my fish er' eggs er' frogspawn." She continues to stuff the bag, which is now getting bigger than the cat herself, "He' dun care, ferret dun care, so Wyld-o-heart takes care of herself." She hoists the bag over her shoulder, looking up at the otther with defiance. Its as if she's done this several times before.
Tagger looks down at the cat, giving off a small gulp. He has fought against before. But not against a cat. He just wishes he had put on some pants. But he still wont leave the doorway, "Have you tried selling your things elsewhere. Getting gold, then coming here?" he says. He is very well versed for an otter, odd, "But that is stealing." he realizes that this is ironic in a vermin town, "And i cant allow you to steal from my family" he nods firmly not moving his ground.
The wildcat drops the sack on the floor with a dull thump, her paw going to her sword. Green eyes narrow, and very slowly she starts to get good and poofy. She slides out the short sword, bringing its tip to chest level. Though never trained, its clear that the cat uses this blade and uses it often. "I have no issue with pokin a few holes in ya, if need be. The bread is old, and the night is cold. Let me'pass, waterdog.."
Tagger ears go back when she starts to poof. He knows what that means! He takes a deep breath as he eyes the sword. Knowing that she is holding it wrong. But he is unarmed. So it doesn't matter much in his position, "I'm sorry. I cant let you do that. Im t-" he then in a blink of an eye he bends his knees quickly aiming for below the sword point and going to try to tackle the cat to the ground.
The wildcat is easily pushed over by a much larger critter, but she does not stay put under Tagger's grasp. The little cat flings her sword far across the room, and starts to spit and claw. While she does this, her free paws fumble for her dagger, nearly dropping it, she tries to stab the otter's tunic collar to the floorboard.
Tagger falls with the cat trying to hold her down. Its not working. His mind didn't think about what to do next. He didn't think he make it this far. He tries to hold her still as much as possible. Getting clawed over his fur and tunic, and actually drawing blood from the otter. Glad that the bigger blade is away. But not for long as the dagger shows up. Using all his bigger might to keep her claws at bay. His Tazan blood then flares up as the blood from his arm reaches down his chest. He growls loudly as he grabs the cat around the middle, putting her in a great big otter hug as he leans back picking her up. His mind disregarding pain that the cat might be dealing him as he makes his way toward the windows, growling and snarling like an animal.
WyldHeart gets more and more freaked out as she looses contact with the floor. Her clawing becomes much more frantic, fear driving her actions instead of logic. Lucky for the otter, in her panic, the cat looses hold of the dagger, otherwise he would be poked and end up with a much larger hole. As she nears the window, the cat gives one last ditch effort, letting loose her characteristic wild-cat screech, point blank, form the water-dog's face. Good morning Ferrivile!
Tagger takes all the scratches, not faltering or wavering. But growling does get louder and louder as more and more streaks go across his back. He stops near the windows she screeches right in his face. He takes it, and even though he cant hear a darn thing now even if he wanted too, he glares at the cat his left eye twitching, "Get the..." oh my, "OUT!" as he throws her out the window, it shattering loudly as the cat fly through it. His body then starts to catch up as he slumps to the ground. His ears still numb his view starting to fade.
Well with all the noise going on who could sleep!? Not Chris THATS for sure. Grumbing and swearing in some foreign language, he comes into the kitchen with a lantern and a sword, wearing just his underpants, having been disturbed. "What the blooming heck is going on in here?!" he growls, glancing around at the state of his kitchen. And then there's an otter. "Tagg? Tagg?!" he blinks and goes over, kneeling down to inspect the 'damage'. "Can ya' hear me?"
Tagger is well under weather, as its called. His mind is foggy, ears numb back and most of his arm either fur removed or slightly bleeding. In his eyes everything is moving really slowly and blurry. He spots the stoat in the corner of his eye before looking over to him, his eyes dilated. He doesn't hear anything the stoat said. He tries to say something but a light gasp comes out of his mouth. He doesn't look to bad, considering.
Christopher sets his sword down and then glances up at the broken window. He'll figure out what happened later. Right now, he shakes his head, examining the otter carefully, grabbing a nearby cloth, heading to the bucket of clean water kept in the corner for the following day, and then sits down next to Tagg, dampening the cloth before cleaning over the cuts. "What happened?" he asks quietly, trying to keep the otter aware.
Tagger blinks at the stoat his world staring to come back into focus, "Chris... I... I." he gulps and then smiles, "I... Made a mess of your store" he chuckles lightly. He then blinks slowly and lays his paw toward the bag still in the room. Hopefully the stoat will get it.
Christopher tries not to glance up at it as he gives a slightly more rough squeeze over the cuts on his arm. "Don't mind that, what happened to YOU?" he asks. "Did you come down looking for a snack and what...catch me getting robbed or something?" he asks, clearly joking. Although he doesn't realize how right he could actually be. Then he looks towards the bag and his jaw nearly hits the floor.
Tagger grunts as his cuts are squeezed. Most of them have stopped bleeding. Though it will be awhile before the scars will disappear. He smiles at the stoats quick realization. Still not able to get anything more than a gasp out of his mouth. He nods quickly before finally gasping out, "I think i threw her out the window..." Not remembering much after he started fighting her.
Christopher makes sure they stay not bleeding for a moment longer before laying the cloth in the water, making a mental note to dump it out later. "I can see that." he shrugs. "But who? Who would want to rob me?" he blinks. "Oh...well, this is a vermin place, so I guess everyone." he shrugs a bit before wrapping the otter's arm around his shoulders. "C'mon, lets get you up." he says, going to lift the otter to his feet.
Tagger shakes his head trying to remember what she looked like as he is slowly lifted to his feet, "A cat... Thing... she was shorter then me. She was trying to rob you. I..." he falters a little as he stands. But the stoat keeps him up, "I had to stop her..." He slowly, "Im alright..." he says taking more of his weight now.
Christopher blinks and then frowns. "A...cat." he can't help but to growl at that. "Grr, I bet she was that one trying to sell me disgusting tortured toad-things." he shakes his head. "Remind me to find her at some point..." he grumbles before blinking. "Yeah, you look alright." he mocks. "C'mon, lets get you up stairs to your bedroll." he says, trying to help Tagg to the stairs.
Tagger smiles as he seems to fully capable of walking now. It wasn't so much the attacks, as the amount of adrenaline leaving him. His paws are slightly shaking now, "Yeah... I think i need to lay down for awhile." though sleeping might be another thing altogether. He still helps the stoat help him, he doesn't trust himself enough right now. As they make it to the top he mutters to the stoat, "Thanks..." he then gulps, "Please don't tell mum..."
The stoat glances back at the mess as they head to the stairs, shaking his head. "Sleep would be a good thing too y'know." he chuckles before humming a little at the last thing Tagg says. "You'll have to convince me not to." he grins. "Liiiike...you might have to let me hire you to work in the bakery full time...just to keep you around." he winks. "C'mon, lets get you to bed!"
