Across the continent, a party of six young adventurers were locked in a battle of wills against a group of human assailants. The concealed cavern echoed with the clang of steel and the grunts of exertion. The adventurers, a motley crew of humans and beastfolk, had taken on a personal request from the female catfolk in their party. She had been made aware that a ring of traffickers had set up shop here.
Their latest cargo was a group of trembling beastfolk, their eyes wide with fear as they were shackled together in a dank, shadowy corner. A tall, broad-shouldered man with a scar etched into his left cheek, cracked his whip, sending a bolt of crackling electricity towards their captors. His movements were swift and precise, a stark contrast to the chaos that unfolded around him.
He felt the familiar sting in his arm with each crack of the whip, but this time, something was... different. As their enemies fell, the thief in the party turned and smiled to the man. The energy in the whip died out, and the man fell to one knee. A sharp pain ate through his side and he screamed. As he reached out to the thief, she calls to him, her face full of worry.
"…len!"
He tries to speak, but all he hears is silence.
"Valen… VALEN!"
He slowly opened his eyes, blinking away the stars that dance in his vision. His head throbbed and the room swayed as if he's still on the deck of a ship at sea. His hand absently reached for his whip, only to find it missing from his side. He looked around, the fog of unconsciousness slowly lifting.
"Valen, wake up," a gentle but firm voice whispered in his ear. He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, urging him to sit up. The room gradually came into focus, revealing the warm, velvety surroundings of the ornate room. The scent of exotic incense fills the air, and the candlelight flickers, casting shadows across the lavish paintings that adorn the walls.
Valen's eyes finally focused and he saw the concerned face of Fioré, the owner of the Crescent Moon brothel. "Oh… Sorry, Fio. Its been a rough couple of days." He looked her over, trying to ground himself in reality. As always, her fiery red hair framed her lovely face, stopping just above her ample cleavage. Her amber eyes followed his, and she sighed with annoyance.
"You're telling me," she says with a motherly scold. "You're paler than my best silks, and that's not a good look on you, darling." She helped him to his feet, her grip surprisingly strong for her delicate appearance. "You need to get out of here before I start worrying you're going to pass out again."
He waved her off with a weak smile. "I'll be fine, Fio." He steadied himself and looked around the room. "But I need to know what's happening in the city. Have you heard anything new about the underground? Maybe some beastfolk being smuggled in?"
"You know I keep my ears to the ground, Valen," Fioré said, her eyes narrowing as she considered his question. "But the only whispers I've heard lately are about some pesky food thief. A sneaky little thing, they say, swiping supplies from the markets without a sound. It's hardly your usual sort of trouble, but it's been causing quite the stir."
"A food thief?" Valen echoed with a touch of skepticism, pushing himself to his feet. "That doesn't exactly sound like the world-shattering crisis I'm looking for." He grumbled under his breath, rubbing the side of his face where his whip had been.
He noticed Fioré's gaze lingering on something behind him and turns to see a new face in the room. A young catfolk. Her fur is a striking silver, her skin tone a charcoal grey. She had a lithe frame and moved with an acrobatic grace that reminded him of a dancer.
Valen's eye darted to Fioré and he asks with a hint of accusation, "You get a new girl?"
"This is Luna," Fioré said quickly, stepping in front of the girl to protectively shield her. "I found her in the alleyways, being chased by those same traffickers you've been so keen on taking down."
Valen's annoyance flared up at the sight of the young catgirl, his thoughts immediately jumping to his former comrade. He knew firsthand the horrors some beastfolk faced in this city, and the idea of her being dragged into a life of sex work made his blood boil. He frowns deeply, his gaze sharp on Fioré.
"So you brought her into this?" His voice was low, and firm. He remembers the playful, carefree beastfolk he had adventured with, and the thought of another one suffering because of the city's corruption ate at his conscience. "You know how much I care about them. I won't have you turning her into a... into one of your...," he trailed off, unable to say the words. His eyes swept over Luna, looking for signs of fear or resentment, but she seems more curious than anything else.
"Valen, you know better than to think that," Fioré said, her voice firm but not unkind. She gently pushes d him aside and walked over to Luna, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Luna's working for me behind the scenes, handling the cooking and cleaning. She's not one of my usual girls." she says, her eyes flashing a warning. "She's safe here. I promise."
"Thank you, Fioré," the silver-haired catgirl said with a small smile. Her voice was meek, but carried a sweet melody. She looked up at Valen, curiosity gleaming in her yellow eyes. "I-I didn't know there was a safe place for beastfolk in Calamor."
Valen sighed heavily, his expression a mix of relief and sadness. He looked at Luna with a gentle gaze, his heart aching for the hardships she must have faced.
"You're right, Luna. There's not much safety in this city for those like you." He stood up, his movements still a little wobbly. "But Fioré's place here is as good as it gets for now." He glanced at Fioré, his eyes lingering on the scar on his arm, a stark reminder of his own past. "I've got some... personal reasons to care about beastfolk getting a fair shake. And I'm not just talking about the peace deal." He started to gather his belongings, his movements slow and deliberate. "But that's another story for another time. For now, I need to get home." He nods to Fioré, his eyes saying more than his words. "I'll be back to check on you soon, Luna. Stay safe."
The velvet curtains of the Crescent Moon parted as Valen stepped into the cool embrace of the night. The city of Calamor was bathed in shadows, the moon playing hide and seek with the clouds above. The cobblestone streets were slick with rain from an earlier downpour, the glow of the gas lamps reflecting off the wet surfaces. Valen pulled his hood up, the fabric muffling the distant sounds of the bustling city as he started the journey back to his home outside the city.
A sudden clamor pierced the quiet evening, jolting Valen from his introspective march home. His instincts honed from years of adventure and battle, he quickly assessed the situation. The sound is distant but growing louder, a cacophony of shouts and the clanging of metal. It's not the first time he's heard such sounds in this city. "It won't be the last," he said to himself with a shrug as he continued on his way.
. . .
Panting, a slender figure sprinted through the narrow alleyways, her hood pulled tightly around her face. She clutched a stolen piece of fresh fish in one hand, her eyes darting back and forth for any escape routes. The guards were gaining on her, their footsteps like thunder in her sensitive ears. Her heart raced as she darted through the alleyways, the smell of rain and damp earth mingling with the pungent scent of the city's waste. Her eyes caught a glimpse of a series of crates and wooden beams that lead up to the rooftops, a path she's used countless times to escape from the clutches of danger.
With a quick glance behind her to ensure the guards are still a safe distance away, she leaped nimbly onto the first crate, her tail twitching with excitement. Her muscles coiled and released as she scaled the makeshift ladder with the grace of a gazelle, each paw finding its place with ease. As she reached the top, she glanced over her shoulder, watching the guards' torches flicker and dance past in the damp air. With a smug look on her face, she took a moment to enjoy her victory before continuing her ascent. Finally, she reached the rooftop and took a moment to catch her breath, the cool breeze a welcome refreshment.
The elusive catfolk plopped down on a flat rooftop, the sound of the city's chaos distant now. She took a bite of the fresh fish, savoring the salty, tangy flavor that explodes in her mouth. Its delicious, but it really isn't enough. Seeing the other vendors have closed up shop, she said to herself, "Well, there's always tomorrow." Her eyes wandered over the rooftops, the glow of the city's lights reflecting off the puddles below.
She sighed, her chest feeling heavier than the weight of the damp fur on her shoulders. Her thoughts drifted to the whispers she's heard, tales of catfolk finding refuge and companionship with humans. The idea tickled at the back of her mind like a piece of stray fur. It's something she's never really considered before, but now, with the cold setting in and food getting harder to come by, it seems less absurd.
She chewed the fish thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing as she considers the possibility. It's a gamble, sure, but she's good at those. After all, she's survived the streets of Calamor for this long. As she settled down for a nap, she began to imagine how her life would change with such a development. She drifted off to sleep not long after, a light smile settling on her features.
Her nap was cut short when her whiskers twitched with the first droplets of rainfall. She yawned and stretched, arching her back in a way that caused her tail to swish lazily. The smell of rain is a familiar and somewhat comforting scent to her, though she doesn't like being caught in it. Tonight however, the wind brings with it an unexpected allure: the aroma of something delectable wafting through the air. It's faint, but tantalizing, and it sent her stomach rumbling. She sat up, her ears perked as she tried to trace the scent.
It's intoxicating. As the aroma pulls her along, it lead her to a small, quaint house just outside the city's bustling walls. The aroma of freshly cooked salmon seeped through an open window, teasing her sensitive nose. She peered through the gap, her yellow eyes widening at the sight of the steaming meal. The warm light inside was inviting, casting a cozy amber hue over the wooden table and the single chair pulled up to it. Her stomach growled in protest at the sight, and she swallowed the last of her stolen snack.
. . .
Valen sat in his dimly lit cottage, a solitary figure in a room filled with artifacts from his past adventures. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls. He's just finished preparing a simple meal of grilled salmon and steamed vegetables, a nod to his time spent with his beastfolk comrades. He gazed in the mirror, recalling his former party members.
"I hope they're doing well." A shadow shifted in the reflection, but he didn't immediately register it. As a sense of longing creeps into him, he recalls, "…the catfolk thief."
For a moment, he saw her in the mirror and at that instant, their eyes locked.
But… That's not her.
"Oh!" the catfolk squeaked, her eyes going wide as saucers. She's caught red-pawed, her nimble fingers hovering over the steaming salmon. She jumped back, her tail fluffing up with alarm, ready to make a break for it. She's so fast she's practically a blur, but she stops herself, remembering the tales of kind humans. She made a tentative step back towards the fireplace, her eyes darting around for an escape.
"I-I didn't mean to... I just smelled it and I wanted a bite." She said with a hopeful lilt, her ears laid back. She tried to give Valen a charming smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.
Valen spun around, his hand reaching for the whip at his side, only to remember it's not there. He peers at the figure, unsure if he's hallucinating from exhaustion. But it's not a phantom. There, by the table, stood a soaking wet catgirl, her fur plastered to her body, revealing the lean muscles beneath. The smell of rain and the city's grime was strong on her.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed, raising his hands to show he means no harm. "Don't go, please," he adds, his voice softer. "You're... welcome to the salmon." He tried to keep his tone light, hoping to ease the tension in the room. Despite her apparent theft, he can't help but be intrigued by her presence. This must be the thief Fio mentioned. She's obviously hungry, just taking to survive. There's something about her that reminds him of his old comrades. "I'm Valen." He took a cautious step forward, his eyes on her, watching for any signs of aggression or fear.
She froze, the sound of Valen's voice resonating in her ears. The name sent a shiver down her spine, a name she's heard in whispers around the city. The human who had once fought alongside beastfolk, the one who had turned his back on the world to live a quiet life.
Her tail swished anxiously behind her as she considered her next move. He seemed genuine, not like the others who had offered sweet words only to betray her kind. Her stomach growled, the aroma of the salmon too tantalizing to resist. She stepped forward, her eyes never leaving his.
"Mona," she said shyly, her voice a soft purr. "I'm sorry about... this." She gestured awkwardly at the half-eaten salmon on the plate. "I didn't know where else to go, and it smelled so good...and…" Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the various artifacts that line the shelves.
He nodded, his eyes still on the salmon. "It's quite alright. Like I said, take it." He gestured to the food, his tone one of understanding rather than anger. "Please," he adds with a gentle smile. He watched her, noticing the way she seems so lost, so unsure. It tugged at his heartstrings. "Do you have owners? A family?" He asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. He'd seen so many of her kind struggle without someone to care for them, and the idea of her being alone in this world made his stomach knot.
Mona's eyes widened at the offer, the salmon seeming like a mirage in the desert of her hunger. She stepped forward, then again, until she's within arm's reach of the food. She grabbed it greedily, her mouth watering as the steam tickles her whiskers. She bit the meat, the flavor like a warm embrace after a cold night. She chewed slowly, savoring it, before swallowing and speaking, "No... no one. I'm a stray." She says it with a shrug, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. But Valen could see the sadness in her eyes, the way her ears drooped slightly. She glanced up at him, a hint of hope flickering in her gaze. "Is it okay if... if I stay here tonight?" she asked, her voice a soft mewl.
Valen nodded sympathetically, understanding the plight of a stray all too well. "Of course," he says, his voice filled with a warmth that belies his gruff exterior. He walked into the other room, his boots thumping on the wooden floorboards, and returned moments later with a soft, clean towel and a blanket that smells faintly of pine. He offered them to Mona, his eyes lingering on the shiver in her soaked fur. "But first, tell me about yourself. How old are you?"
Mona looked at the towel and blanket with wide eyes, her tail swishing with excitement. She gratefully accepted and started to dry herself off. As she does, she pondered Valen's question. "I... I don't know," she admits, her voice tinged with uncertainty. She's never kept track of such things. The seasons had always just come and gone. "But... I've seen twenty winters come and go," she says with a hint of pride, as if that's the only measure of time that matters in her life. With the towel wrapped around her shoulders, she pulled her hood back to reveal short, golden hair that clings to her forehead in damp strands.
Valen's eyes widened as he takes in Mona's golden locks. The words of his former comrades echo in his mind, and his heart skips a beat. Golden hair on a beastfolk was as rare as a unicorn's horn, and just as valuable. The memory of his past adventures, and the knowledge of the darker side of the city, floods back to him. He tried to keep his cool, but his eyes betray his astonishment. He cleared his throat, hoping she hadn't noticed. "It's just... I've never seen a beastfolk with such... unique coloring before," he says, his voice carefully measured. He forced a casual tone, not wanting to spook her. "It's quite striking, really." He watched her closely, wondering if she knows the value her hair could command in the wrong hands.
As Mona continued to dry herself, she noticed Valen's intense gaze and felt a pang of self-consciousness. She ran a hand through her damp hair, the strands sticking to her fingers. "Do you think that's why people are so mean to me?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly. She'd always known that her fur stood out among her kin, but she had never understood the true significance of it. The whispers and stares had followed her since she was a kitten, but she had always chalked it up to being a loner. The thought that there could be more to it made her feel vulnerable. Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of judgment or pity. She wrapped the blanket around herself tighter, the warmth doing little to ease the chill of her uncertainty.
Valen's eyes softened as he saw Mona's discomfort, realizing that his curiosity might have hit a nerve. He quickly shifted gears, eager to put her at ease. "I wouldn't know," his voice gentle. "Now," he said, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms, his expression one of admiration, "tell me about your life on the streets." He leaned forward, his gaze earnest and curious, the shadows playing across his face making him seem both mysterious and comforting.
Mona gathers her thoughts, the warmth of the blanket and the fire slowly thawing the coldness inside her. She sat on the floor, her tail curling around her legs. "It's... tough," she said , her voice quiet. "I have to be quick and sneaky to get by. But," she added with a small smile, "I've made it work." She paused, looking around the room with a mix of awe and suspicion. "What about you? Why do you live out here, away from the city?"
Valen sighed, leaning back. "I just prefer the solitude," he admits, his gaze drifting to the flickering fire. "I spent years adventuring with a full party. Six of us, sharing everything... every victory, every defeat." His eyes glazed over with the weight of his memories. "It gets tiring, not having a moment to yourself." He looked back to Mona, his expression a mix of fondness and sadness. He stood and moved closer to her, offering a gentle pat on the head.
"You can stay here as long as you like, if you promise not to steal my salmon again." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
She leaned into the pat, the simple gesture surprisingly comforting. "Thanks," she murmurs, her eyes closing briefly in pleasure. "I won't. I promise," she said, her voice earnest. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, curiosity piqued. "So, what happened to them?" she asks, her voice softer than usual. She sensed the weight of his past and wondered if their fates are somehow intertwined.
His hand lingered on her head for a moment before he withdrew it, his eyes dropping to the floor. "Ah, 'them'," he says, his voice distant. "Last I heard, they're all still breathing." He paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "But we had to part ways. I discovered that the adventurer's life wasn't for me." He looked back at Mona, his expression masked. "I just couldn't... keep up with it anymore." He said the last part almost to himself, as if trying to convince himself it's true. "So," he continued, a minuscule smile playing on his lips, "I came here to Calamor. It's a safe place, or so they say." He walked to the window, looking out at the cityscape. "The beastfolk uprising about two decades ago was a big deal, sure. But it's ancient history to most folks now. Just a story to tell around the fire." He turned to face her, his gaze piercing. "But it left its marks, didn't it?"
Mona nodded solemnly, her tail flicking behind her as she considered Valen's words. The city's history of discrimination is a constant shadow in her life, a reality that shapes every decision she makes. "Yeah," she murmurs, her eyes following him as he paced. "It's not easy being a beastfolk in Calamor." She went for another bite of salmon, the flavor now bittersweet. "But I guess that's why the stories of humans taking us in as equals sound like fairy tales." She looked up at him, her yellow eyes searching for something she can't quite put her finger on.
Mona's gaze drifted to the floor, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I've had to hide who I am," her voice a low purr. "I'd tuck my ears under my hood and tail under my cloak. I'd watch the humans, learn their ways, just to get by." She drew a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort of recounting her past. "But even when I'd blend in, they'd still find a reason to push me away." Her eyes drifted around the room, as if the walls could hold the answers she seeks. "I've slept in alleys, fought for scraps, and stolen more than I care to admit." Her whiskers twitched as she enjoyed another bite of salmon, the flavor a stark contrast to the bitter taste of her memories. "But it's better than the alternative." She didn't have to say the words for Valen to know she means slavery or worse.
Valen nodded slowly, understanding all too well the need to adapt to survive. He's seen it in his own past, the constant shifting of alliances and identities. "I understand, somewhat," he replied with a knowing look. "The adventurer's life is not far from a drifter's." He stretched his arms, the leather of his shirt creaking with the movement. A yawn escaped him, and he realized the weight of the day's events pressing down on him. "Mona," he spoke, his voice a gentle rumble, "I think I'm about to turn in for the night. You're welcome to the couch." He gestured to the well-worn piece of furniture, a testament to his own solitude. His eyes were tired, but there's a softness to them that speaks of an underlying kindness. Despite his rough exterior, there's a warmth in his home that seems to emanate from his very being.
Mona finished the salmon, licking her lips clean. She looked up at Valen, her eyes glowing with a mix of gratitude and wariness. "Thank you," she responds, her voice a soft purr. She's not used to such kindness from humans. Her ears twitched as he mentions the couch, a luxury she hasn't experienced in a long time. "But I shouldn't overstay my welcome," she said, standing up and tugging the blanket tighter around herself. The warmth from the fire felt good on her wet fur. "I'll be gone before sunrise," she promised, her eyes never leaving his. She's lived her life on the move, and the streets are all she's ever known. The promise of a warm bed and a full belly is almost too much to resist, but she's learned not to trust too easily. She gave him a small, forced smile. "I'll be out of your hair by then." She whispers, as if trying to convince herself more than him.
Valen's eyes followed Mona as she stretched, and he noticed the exhaustion in her posture. He nodded, understanding her need to be cautious. "If that's what you want," he begins, his voice holding a hint of sadness. He wished he could offer her more than just a temporary reprieve from the cold. "But," he added, his eyes brightening slightly, "you're always welcome here, Mona." He walked over to her, his steps deliberate. "And I'd enjoy the company," his hand reached out to gently stroke her damp fur. Mona's muscles relaxed slightly at the touch of his hand, the warmth from his palm a comfort she hadn't felt in a long time.
She looked up at him, her eyes half-lidded with fatigue. "Thank you," she murmured, the words sincere. With one last, lingering look at the salmon, she padded over to the couch and lay down, the springs groaning slightly under her weight. She curled up into a tight ball, her tail wrapping around her nose. The warmth of the blanket and the promise of a dry place to rest is indeed too tempting to resist. She watched Valen with sleepy eyes as he moved around the room, preparing for bed. "I'll keep that in mind," her voice barely above a whisper. With a yawn that stretched her jaw, she closed her eyes and allowed sleep to claim her.
Valen couldn't help but smile as he watched Mona settle in, her tail flicking rhythmically as she found the perfect spot on the couch. Her presence brought back memories of his adventures with beastfolk companions, the camaraderie and trust that had once been a cornerstone of his life. He took one last look at his whip, hanging on the wall like a silent sentinel of his past. With a sigh, he decided not to dwell on the darker aspects of his history tonight. He had company, and that was something to be cherished.
He banked the fire for the night, ensuring it would burn low and steady. He walked to the door and turned the lock, a rare act of caution for him. As he climbed the stairs to his bedroom, he couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was more than just a random act of kindness. It felt like fate had brought her to his doorstep, a whisper of a new chapter in a story he had thought was long closed. He glanced over his shoulder one last time before disappearing into the shadows of the stairwell, leaving the room bathed in the soft, flickering light of the hearth.