(Sorry for the delay, and the length. They won't all be this long, in both respects.)
Kalani
Riding giant silk moths was not quite a new experience for Kalani, but it was one that she doubted she would ever grow fully accustomed to. Their steadiness was a great comfort that became considerably more so at the dizzying heights which they preferred to travel, but those same heights prevented her from ever feeling safe upon one's back. If she fell, there would be no saving her; she would be out of sight in moments and dead before anything could be done about it. The only thing keeping her in place was her own grip, which was tight enough that it was beginning to hurt. She wished that she could have been holding onto her parasol instead, and standing back on safe, unmoving earth.
Part of her felt guilty for not enjoying an opportunity that she had fantasized about for years as a young kit. The Grand Boss was a living legend - one that she never truly expected to meet in person, let alone travel with, and yet all she could think about was how much longer it would be before they landed again. She turned to conversation to distract herself while passing the time, and found the old rat to be a willing but unorthodox participant; it was difficult to keep his attention focused on nearly any subject she thought to bring up, and he frequently neglected to answer questions altogether, yet he remained willing to speak afterwards as if he were engaged by the very act itself. They moved through a wide array of topics this way, from politics, to philosophy, and even to things which Kalani was quite certain he held a personal interest in, all to the same effect. She would coax a few promising comments from him, and then he would interrupt her to ask about something else entirely.
At first she thought that the Grand Boss was simply being disrespectful, feigning interest in their discourse as a way to humiliate her, but that was not consistent with his previous behavior and contradicted what she already knew about him. If he truly took issue with what she had said, or what she was, he would never have allowed her to ride with him in the first place. It seemed instead that he was playing some sort of game at her expense; one where the actual subject of the conversation was less important than, she reasoned, one's ability to control its direction. If so, they were hardly on equal terms - the difference in status alone between Cinder-Fur and herself allowed him to act without fear of reprisal, while she was expected to respond politely to his every remark, no matter how rude or trivial.
Fair play, it seemed, was of little interest to the retired ninja. His game was sufficient to take her mind far from the matter of flight, however, and by the time she felt ready to compete rather than merely participate, it looked as though they had arrived at their destination. She wasted no time in dismounting to massage her sore palms, and silently lamented that sunburns were not so easily cured.
"It is true that most islanders do not go to such great lengths to prepare their tea," Kalani admitted, easily keeping in stride with Cinder-Fur as they approached the old building, "but just because the method is faster, or easier, does not always mean that the product's quality must suffer for it. I know a family of weasels that has been making tea for over five generations on the outer islands. As Eitan, it is one of the few trades that remains profitable for them in our kingdom, yet their work is among some of the best I have ever tasted."
Cinder-Fur smiled. "Then I hope what you have here is even better. This shop and plantation are owned by a bat, Tea-Fur, descended from a long line of bats of similar profession. The pride of their drink is tied to family name, and his craft is well known even to the south of our lands," he explained. "But perhaps your tastes are different. We’ll just have to see. Ah, here he comes now, I think."
Tea-Fur pushed the door to his tea shop and hobbled out onto the front porch of the place. His pace was fairly quick after many years using his crutch, but Cinder-Fur still closed the distance quickly, waving for the bat to stay on the shaded porch. "Tea-Fur, I suspect? We are both old men, the day is warm. Why not leave the heat to the young and stay in the shade?" he offered, hoping Kalani would simply think to follow him inside as his entourage secured the moths. "Your reputation precedes you. I’ve long wanted to come and try your tea, old one."
Tea-Fur smiled politely. "You flatter me, Patriarch. One with so many titles and such a legendary reputation is too kind in his expectations, but I hope to live up to them all the same," he remarked.
Cinder-Fur chuckled - the bat had been speaking in nezumi-language, and his accent was pronounced but controlled. "I do not mean to be a sudden and undue burden, but I tired of the festival in the west and thought this a better way to spend my time. Do you have room for my traveling party? I cannot promise that they are all as well-mannered as you."
Tea-Fur nodded profusely. "Yes, yes Patriarch, we have space. What would you care to sample, Grand-Boss?"
Cinder seemed pensive for a moment before smiling. "To be honest, I have long harbored a desire to experience traditional tea ceremony. It is only something I had seen in my youth, but never partaken of. Would it trouble you?"
Tea-Fur’s wing claw swept in a waving motion. "Not at all, Patriarch." He replied. He hobbled up to the door and pushed it open, yelling inside in bat-tongue, a confusing cacophony of chirps and high-pitched chittering to those unfamiliar with it. The bat turned around and showed sheepishly, lowering his gaze in deference for a moment. "My apologies, Grand-Boss. I employ the young from the village and they only respond to a strong word, much like myself when I was young." He explained again in nezumi-language, but transitioned to common tongue for his next utterance. "I see you bring one from the island kingdom then, yes? You partake of that spiced tea in your lands. I may still have a store of the right spices from last autumn, and I may provide the leaf, if you would prefer that."
"I'll be fine without," she replied to the bat, once again averting her eyes out of respect. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Tea-Fur. My informal name is Kalani the White, and though I do appreciate it, you need not trouble yourself to accommodate me. If it is more comfortable for you to do so, feel free to speak to me in your native language; my grasp of the Nezumi tongue is stronger than it is with your peoples', but I should still have no great difficulty understanding you."
Tea-Fur nodded a little. "By the way you dress, I would imagine you are quite fond of the ways of the swamps. That, or you are suicidal." The old bat chuckled. "Perhaps they are one and the same here, though. I will prepare the tea, then. There is a booth that overlooks the courtyard that is large enough for your entourage and then some, Patriarch."
Cinder-Fur smiled amicably - he really had been looking forward to this. "Well then, let us retire inside," he remarked, letting the bat hobble ahead of him... before noticing the number of rats that had started to gather near the door, muttering about seeing the Boss. The old rat leaned a little close to Kalani and whispered. "I really never get used to this."
She looked down at him, then inside the building, and answered as quietly as she could without becoming inaudible.
"I... I think they might attack me for this."
Dusk-Walker
For the entire moth-ride home, Dusk-Walker fumed. He had never wished to attend the northerner's festival to begin with, but being held responsible for his people's departure was somehow far worse. Of course, in his mind the blame rested everywhere except upon his own shoulders; firstly it fell to Cinder-Fur, for leaving himself surrounded by foreigners and forcing his only bodyguard to rush the completion of a pointless delivery, then it moved to the Akamu guards, whose gross over-reaction to said bodyguard ascending a simple wall caused them to engage him in an equally pointless argument, and at last it came to rest on Hard-heart and Lost-eyes, whose summons brought Cinder-Fur back to the landing and convinced him to leave early, thus ensuring that their entire visit was rendered pointless.
Then again, perhaps the time wasted there would only be the rats' second greatest mistake of the day. It looked like the boss had picked up some thoroughly unwanted company to bring back home with him; a white-fur - a Sunless - and a foreigner at that. The irritable ninja could hardly even imagine why they were traveling with her, but it certainly fit his master's apparent fixation with self-destructive behavior. They would share words later, and he knew that he would be reprimanded for provoking the guards, but he had his own things to say about how readily the Boss consorted with outsiders and the accursed. Regrettably, he already knew that in a proper argument he stood no chance of convincing the old rat of anything.
There was another problem, though - one that Dusk-Walker was much more eager to focus on. From his position near the back of the Nezumi entourage, he could tell that they had picked up a tail from somewhere in the festival. It was too distant for him to steal more than glimpses at who, or what, was following them, but his eyes told him that it was large, airborne, and fast enough to keep pace with the moths. His first thought was that the pursuer was a dragon, or an Akamu riding one, but that seemed wrong. The northerners and their mounts were known for many things, but subtlety was not one of them, and they would have been fools to allow Cinder-Fur to leave their city if they had unfinished business with him. If it hadn't attacked already... perhaps another Nezumi?
At the distance it was keeping, an airborne confrontation of any real length would cause the ninja to lose sight of his allies. The same fate would likely befall their stalker, too, but he was more concerned about remaining with the group than he was about the potential security threat posed by a single enemy up against the Four Clans' three most capable retainers. When he knew what his destination was, he reasoned, he could deal with the problem alone in one way or another.
Eventually the entourage made a safe landing outside some bat's plantation, although Dusk-Walker did not join them. He ordered his moth to ascend until he could barely see the ground, commanded it to remain in place, and allowed himself to slowly drift into a state of meditation. Piece by piece, the environment receded from his comprehension; the winds stilled and grew quiet, the earth became grey and featureless, and the skies darkened until they composed a perfect black void. Only his thoughts remained for a time, but they were soon accompanied by the alien presence of a life that was not his own. Like feeling a second heartbeat, he knew that a living creature was beneath him - his moth, just under his legs - but could not open his eyes to see it, nor his ears to listen to the quiet buzzing of its wings.
He embraced the feeling, and willed it to grow stronger. Even with all of his training, it took a considerable amount of time to produce results from such a great distance, but seemingly all at once, he began to detect more signs from the ground below. Most were difficult to separate from each other, being in too close proximity, but there was a large, distinct group inside what must have been the building, and another, smaller one approaching it from outside. That left only a single outlier, circling around the rest from an odd angle, and no longer airborne. The trance ended, and Dusk-Walker opened his eyes.
"Land!" he shouted to his moth, punctuating the order with a tug of its reins. Without waiting for a response, he drew his sword, let go, and jumped.
The fall was of no great concern to Dusk-Walker, who could turn himself nearly weightless with a thought, but the winds created a problem that was not so easily ignored. He possessed very little control over the direction of his descent, forcing him to maintain his full weight throughout a majority of the fall or risk being blown off-course. That alone did not worry him so much as the speed, however; it was difficult to land quietly or safely with so little space to decelerate, and his target area was no wider than the span of one arm. He could see the creature as he fell, hiding in the shadow of Tea-Fur's shop - it looked to be a Nezumi after all.
Unfortunately he missed his mark, landing several meters behind the rat rather than virtually on top of her as he had intended. Worse still, his impact with the ground was loud enough that it did not go unnoticed. When she turned around to see what had caused the disturbance, he decided not to waste the opportunity and pointed his blade towards her.
"Stalking the boss, hmm?" he mused out loud, grinning rather unpleasantly. "Stupid of you."
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