Zocalo and the Vermin

The night is cold, yet still not as cold as it was the previous night, and Maimed is enjoying the night air for the first time in quite a while. For tonight ,he actually has something to fill his stomach, no doubt bought with the money the kindly beasts who he'd talked to the previous night had given him. Eating is a rather strange-looking affair with him, as he pinches off bits of the bread he's holding and slides it underneath his headwrap. He then tilts his head back and chews it without looking down again until he swallows. The noises that this makes are rather obscene, but it doesn't seem to be something he can help.

Zocalo comes jogging down the road from the marketplace sans lantern having been released from work early and desperate to get out of the building. He's got what appears to be a lightweight jacket halfway on and is pulling the left sleeve up and over his arm and shoulder as he hurtles onward. Finally, fully clothed, he waves to a rat who apparently recognizes him and rushes past Maimed's alleyway only to skid to an abrupt stop and backtrack. "Hey!" He stays back a bit, leery of going into the darkness with the fox. "How're things?"

Maimed doesn't even bother stopping chewing to answer the otter, and instead gives a simple shrug. How are things /supposed/ to be? He's still homeless and he's still poor, but at least, for that night, he's fed and isn't too uncomfortable. He swallows his mouthful and holds up the bread and waterskin, then points to the empty tin cup, trying to signify that he bought some food with what he'd been given. He punctuates his little gesture-fest by coughing and hacking a bit, followed by a wet-sounding snort.

Zocalo isn't sure he wants to stick around to have this conversation. Uncomfortable, he glances left and right trying to find someone to escape to but since he doesn't seem to have many friends in the village, no one comes to his rescue. At the sound of the snort Zocalo wrinkles his nose and winces. "Alright...good for you." He glances around, looking for something to talk to or about and spots Christopher's coat which had been dropped as they left the other night. "Oh hey, you got the coat!" Then he blushes, as much as a dark furred otter can blush, as he realizes that he isn't being very tactful.

Maimed lets out a sigh as he realizes that Zocalo found the coat, but merely nods, sniffing once more before starting to hack and cough again. The fox pulls out his blackboard and scrawls upon it for a moment, turning it to Zocalo so he can see. "It was lying on the ground. So I used it." It's a feeble attempt to play off the charity, but a token effort that Maimed is more than willing to make. He seems a bit embarrassed about it, frankly, judging by the way his eyes dart around and search everywhere but the other beast's face.

This is not turning out at all how Zocalo wanted it to. He'd had /plans/ for tonight dangit! Remorseful now, he sighs and scratches the back of his head. "Um, has Scioto talked to you yet?" Surely the chieftain wouldn't allow someone to spend the entire winter season outside in an alleyway. He'd find some way to take care of him. "Scioto's the chieftain of Ferravale." He appends helpfully.

Maimed shakes his head and gives an irritated snort. Talking to the chieftain? What would possess him to do that?! Again, Maimed starts to write on the blackboard, turning it about when he's finished. "I try to stay away from chieftains and guards." He drags his forearm about the board, wiping the chalk off on the fur, then writing some more. "That's a good way to get kicked out of a town." He shrugs, rubbing at his watering eyes, trying to get some of the moisture away before it congeals on his cheekfur.

Zocalo muses on this for a moment. "Mmm..I don't think Scioto'd kick you out. He's much too...nice, for that." He shakes his head. "For the chieftain of a vermin village, I've never met someone so easygoing." He smiles slightly. "I mean, look around, this is a vermin village after all." He holds his paws out and looks left and right then back to Maimed. "You could probably go around poisoning everyone and still be able to say." He grins at this, finding it immensely funny for some reason.

Maimed flinches as though he were struck at the mention of poisoning, his eyes wide open as he tries to backpedal, but only ends up pressing his back against the alley wall. His eyes are wide and panicked, as if he's expecting to be grabbed by unseen paws at any moment. He makes some weird, babbling noises, though none of it is intelligible. Suddenly his eyes, which before were merely cold, now look outright fearful.

"What? No! I didn't mean..." Zocalo frantically holds his right paw out in front of him with his palm facing out as if that's going to resolve the issue. "No one's going around poisoning people here! At least I don't think so!" He wouldn't put it past some of the citizens of this fine village. "You don't have to worry about it!"

Raymond walks in and over to the group of beasts "Every thing alright here everyone, what is the trouble?

Maimed's eyes flick back and forth between Zocalo and Raymond, having noticed the newcomer doing his duties within the town. The presence of the head guard only serves to excite him further, and his chest heaves up and down with panicked breaths, a ragged, raspy sound as he stands up and presses his back firmly to the wall. He starts to scoot down the wall slowly in the direction of the opposite end of the alley, his eyes wide and frightened.

Zocalo watches Maimed disappear and turns a confused face to Raymond. "Uhm...I don't know what happened..." He shrugs. "It /was/ alright until I started joking about poisonings in the village." All of a sudden it isn't that funny anymore. "He sorta took it the wrong way I think."

Raymond tilts his head, "Poisons? That is for sure nothing to joke on"

Maimed finally reaches his breaking point and snaps, having been inching away from the other two beasts for some time now. He sprints down the alleyway, his food, coat, and even his satchel forgotten, the latter falling off his shoulder and spilling its contents onto the ground, a few strange-looking plants falling out of it. The fox stumbles and trips as he tries to run as fast as he can, though his lack of a tail and poor condition make it a struggle to move quickly.

Zocalo shrugs and stuffs his paws into his pockets. "Yeah...apparently." He says as an aside to Raymond. He scuffs the ground with his left footpaw and stands around aimlessly for a few moments before he sees the spilled stuff all over the ground. Trying to be helpful, he goes to collect everything and put it back in the fox's satchel. As he does so he finds the plants and holds them up to investigate. Not being an herbalist, he has no idea what they are.

Maimed realizes that he'd left all he owned in the world behind as soon as he turns the first bend in the alleyway, and the fox suddenly stops in his tracks. He presses his back to the wall and crouches down, sliding down the wall until he can peek around the corner, his lack of a muzzle and dark clothes making it all too easy to blend in with the shadows. He watches the other beasts intently, hoping that they'll depart soon enough so he can retrieve his belongings and leave town without empty paws.

"He doesn't have one." Zocalo says simply. He's trying to be careful with the various items but the plants are crumbly and Zocalo has never been very gentle with things. "I saw him for the first time a few nights ago and he says he doesn't want to go to an inn." He sniffs and tentatively licks one of the plants for some reason, sticking his tongue out and wincing as the taste hits him.

Raymond hmmms, he nods and looks at him, "Oh yes lick a plant, what if it was a deadly poison?" He shakes his head when a rat miad runs up to him, "Help Help its a fight in the tavren, they gonna kill him. " Raymond sighs and heads over to the tavern

Maimed's eyes go wide as he sees Zocalo lick the plant, racing out from his hiding place and aiming a brutal slap at Zocalo's paw, hoping to knock the plant out of it before he can do more than just give it a lick. His eyes have changed now. They've gone from merely fearful to fearful and angry.

"Aagh!" Zocalo drops everything and jerks up to a standing position, angrily staring back at the fox. "What was that for?" He shakes his paw and flexes it a few times. "I was just trying to help, eesh." He takes a few steps backwards in order to lean casually against the wall of the other building making up this particular alleyway. "You don't accept help very well, do you?"

"Licking strange plants? Didn't your mum ever teach you better?" asks a voice from the direction of the market, that odd accent clearly identifying the owner as Christopher, the always lovable stoat thing from beyond the Moledeep. "I mean...you don't know what it could be." he laughs a bit at the sight of the fox, and the otter.

Not knowing just what Zocalo might have tasted, or how much he may have put in his mouth, Maimed crouches down and looks through his satchel, throwing things out of it as he scrambles to find something. He appears to be a little more panicked than is necessary, in a state of high caution that's only displayed by those who've seen someone else do something extremely stupid. He plucks out a second plant and thrusts it at Zocalo's chest, pointing at Zocalo's mouth frantically.

"I'm not eating that." Zocalo throws his paws up and turns his head away, avoiding the strange fox's frantic motions. "Seriously?" He glances at Chris. "It smelled interesting and then I get it smacked out of my paw and now he wants me to eat something else." He closes his mouth firmly and glares at Maimed suspiciously from out of the corner of his left eye.

Christopher nods his head. "Maybe because what you just...licked...is poison." he nods his head slowly. "And if I were you, otter..." he pauses to glance at Maimed. "I would not only eat that, I would eat it now, very quickly, and without question." he says, getting closer.

Maimed nods to Zocalo, pushing the sprig of green against the otter's chest before reaching down and grabbing his blackboard, scrawling on it, his handwriting far less neat by now. The fox turns it so Zocalo can see what it is. "I have no idea how much you just ate! Eat that plant now, snotwhiskers!"

Zocalo is torn between taking offense at the snotwhiskers insult and being very scared of the plant that he merely licked. His eyes narrow. "I'm not eating anything until you tell me why I should." He stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Maimed. "Are you going around poisoning beasts?" He asks sarcastically.

The stoat eyes the otter carefully before reaching out to give him a firm thwak against the side of the head. "Just do it..." he grumbles. "I don't want to mourn another dead otter so soon." he glares. That glare that only a stoat can manage.

Maimed shakes his head ernestly at Zocalo's question, taking it far too seriously to look innocent. At Christopher's urging, he nods his head, pointing at what he'd already written on the blackboard to try and get his point across, looking outright panicked about the whole situation.

"Fine!" Zocalo throws his paws up and finally just takes the plant that Maimed has been forcing at him for the last five minutes. "If it'll make you leave me alone..." He glances suspiciously at the plant and sniffs it before finally ripping off just a part of the plant and chewing on it for a bit before he swallows it. "There. I ate it, see?" He opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out for their very brief inspection. Then he awkwardly leans up against the wall again, paws in his pockets, not quite sure what just happened there.

Christopher watches the otter swallow the herb and then grins, reaching out to teasingly pat his ears. "Good boy. Want a treat?" he asks, laughing. "Anyway...what exactly did I walk in on?" he asks, tilting his head slowly.

Maimed heaves out a sigh of relief and snatches the remains of the plant back, the small amount most likely being enough for whatever it was meant to do. He stuffs the sprig he offered Zocalo back into his satchel, as well as the other offending plant, then sinks back against the wall, looking rather tired out from all the excitement. Halfheartedly, he starts to write on the board, turning it around so Chris can see. "Your stupid friend put something in his mouth without knowing what it was."

Zocalo harrumphs at being called stupid. "Our friend here panicked and ran off when I started kidding about people poisoning each other here in the village. He dropped all of his stuff and I was just trying to help put it back for him. That's all." His expression clearly says that he doesn't appreciate the treatment he received in response to his charitable actions.

Christopher shrugs a little. "I saw you lick the herb as I came down the path." he says. "That wasn't very bright, you realize that right? Could have been anything...poisonous. It could have killed you right on the spot." he frowns a bit. "I don't think you think things through all that well before you do something...try working on that." he smiles as best as he can.

Maimed isn't half as constructive as Christopher is, still being rather angry at Zocalo for licking one of his plants, and still rather fearful that he might have outed himself. So, without anything nice to say, he decides to forgo not saying anything at all in favor of erasing what he'd written with a forearm and writing down two new words. "Stupid Woodlander."

Zocalo gives up on the whole ridiculous situation. His evening has been really and truly /wrecked/ and now he just gets to go home to a drunk, grumpy boss. With nary a farewell, the otter rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the wall. Paws still in his pockets, he slouches off into the darkness, muttering unintelligible things as he goes.

Christopher watches Zocalo go, the stoat sighing a bit. "OH! Drop by my bakery sometime tomorrow! I've got a few things I need to ask!" he calls out before the otter goes, glancing back to the fox. "Don't worry...In my experience, otters aren't very bright...well. Most otters."

Maimed can't help but nod agreement with the other vermin, laying his head back against the wall and giving a shake of it, unable to believe that he just got away with what he did, considering that he just had to practically force an otter to eat an antidote. All that he can think now is that he's immensely thankful that the two other beasts aren't interested in questioning him.