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Chapter Eleven

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Rivimiralous awoke in unfamiliar surroundings. The cheetah lay on his side, half-curled under soft, green and gold blankets. A thick pillow in matching colors, and with a lacy fringe propped up his head. Bleary-eyed from deep slumber, and without his spectacles, the cheetah could scarcely see past his own muzzle even after he pulled the blankets down from his head. He felt around beneath the covers, and found the edge of his bed perilously close. Rivi tried to roll away from it, only to bump up against a high, padded back.

“What an odd bed we’re in, Rivi.” The feline slowly sat up. Cool air rushed over his arms, trying to infiltrate his nightshirt as the blankets fell away. “Now where did we put our spectacles?”

Rivi swung his feet over the side of the bed. He rubbed his eyes, then squinted and looked around. The room was dimly lit. The electric lights were all turned off, and the curtains drawn across the far windows. Only a sliver of pale, silvery light shone through a crack between the drapes. A few empty recliners sat nearby, along with several small end tables. A larger table rested in front of him. Rivi vaguely made out the familiar twin-oval shapes of his brass-rimmed spectacles sitting on the table. He leaned forward to pick them up, then reclined against the oddly placed padded headboard. The cheetah carefully placed his spectacles upon his muzzle, then worked the band around his head, just below his ears.

As the dark room came into focus, Rivi realized his bed was so strange, because it was not a bed at all. It was a sofa. Nor was he slumbering in a bedroom, but the living area of a grand suite. The realization helped to drag some of the cobwebs away from his sleep-addled brain. Memories from the day before filtered back into his mind. Given everything that happened, it felt like an entire year had passed between the time he first queued up in the snow to board the ship, and the time he finally flopped down onto the sofa, to go to sleep.

“Yes, that’s right, Rivi.” The cheetah stood up, stretching his arms over his head. A deep yawn split his muzzle wide, his tongue curling. When his yawn ended, he ran his hands over his head, smoothing down his spotted fur. “We’re indebted to a secret policeman, now. A secret coyote policeman.” With no sign of Argos, Rivi allowed himself to amend his statement further. “A handsome coyote policeman.” Though it shamed Rivi deeply to admit he found the coyote so handsome, he was also willing to grant himself that there was liberation in saying as much aloud. “Argos is a handsome coyote.” The cheetah giggled to himself, shaking his head. “Oh, Rivi, we shouldn’t say these things. Not even in our head! We’re going to get ourselves in trouble.”

Speaking made Rivi all too aware of his morning thirst. His tongue and throat were both unpleasantly dry, and yet somehow sticky, as well. He sought out the nearest light switch, and flicked it on. The cheetah grimaced as the yellowy-blue bulb in a nearby lamp flickered to buzzing life. The sudden brightness left his eyes aching as he padded towards the bar.

Rivi poured himself a glass of water, glancing towards the door to Argos’s room. “Argos?” He lifted his voice louder. “Argos! Are you still here?” Rivi gulped down some water, deciding he’d better stop shouting. For all he knew, the coyote might well still be asleep. “We’d better be quiet, Rivi, we don’t want to wake him.” He drank the rest of his water, then smiled to himself, whispering. “And we certainly don’t want him to hear us talking about how handsome he is. That’s far too embarrassing.”

The cheetah refilled his water glass, then turned away from the bar. He looked around for a clock, and saw it was already mid-morning. Rivi scowled, flicking his tail. He was certain he’d gone to be quite early. Had he really slept that long? After a lovely dinner with Argos and Iosa, the coyote led Rivi back to their room, and helped him turn the sofa into a bed. Argos had planned to meet Iosa again after that, and promised to do his best not to wake Rivi upon his return. After that, Rivi remembered little more than getting comfortable in bed, and then waking just now.

“We were very tired, Rivi.” The cheetah sipped his water, wandering the suite. With no idea what time Argos returned, he had no way of knowing whether the coyote was still asleep, or already out of the suite for the morning. “We’d best be quiet, until we’re sure.”

Rivi went to the dining table, intent on helping himself to a snack. Platters of dried and candied fruits, cured meats, bread and jars of jam, and more still surrounded the centerpiece bouquet. Just as Rivi picked up a few slices of dried apple, he spotted a note scrawled upon parchment, resting in front of a basket of goodies. An inkwell sat atop it, holding it in place. Rivi picked it up, and quickly read through the note, written in Gilded Familiar.

Spots,

Went for breakfast with Iosa. Had some shit to get done. Departure is set for noon. I got you admittance to the VIP Viewing Deck, and I left you a map near the door. If you’re up in time, I’ll meet you there. If you need more sleep, that’s fine too. I’ll see you back in the room. Water restrictions start after departure, so enjoy a long shower or bath while you can.

Argos

Rivi set the note back down, smiling. “That answers that question, Rivi. Or, should we say Spots?” He scrunched his muzzle, then shook his head. “No, we shouldn’t use that. It sounds wrong in our voice. It’s nice when Argos says it, though.” Rivi picked up a handful of dried fruit, and walked towards the door. “Why do you think that is? Probably because a handsome coyote has given us a cute nickname?” He popped a few slices of dried apple into his muzzle, speaking as he chewed. “A handsome coyote who also suffers from impurity?” A few incredibly forbidden, dangerous thoughts wandered into his mind, unbidden. The cheetah shivered, and then forced the images away. “Oh, by the Divines, Rivi. We’re going to get ourselves in so much trouble.”

As promised, a map hung from a clip alongside the door. It was hand-drawn, but surprisingly detailed. Arrows indicated which direction Rivi should travel when he left the room, which corridors to follow, and which lifts to take. Numbers instructed him on which decks to travel to, both to reach the viewing area, and to return to the room should he do so on his own. Argos had also scribbled a list of decks where Rivi could go to buy food, or supplies for his room. Beneath the map was another short note from the coyote.

Spots,

Drew you this cause it’ll be easier for you to read than a full set of ship’s maps. However, those are in the closet, if you want them. The decks listed on my map should be safe for you to travel alone, but remember your lessons learned from the wolf, just in case. For now, don’t go to any other decks unless I’m with you.

Rivi smiled at Argos’s thoughtfulness. He returned the map to its clip, to ensure he’d not forget it when he left the room. Then he turned away, munching a few more apple slices. “Argos is so considerate, isn’t he Rivi? So considerate and handsome.” The cheetah laughed to himself. “Oh, that’s like the new toy we just can’t get tired of yet. Getting to call a male handsome, out in the open! Just remember, Rivi, only in private. And don’t say it around Argos, it’s embarrassing. It’s surely embarrassing for him, too. Now, quit acting like a schoolboy with a crush, and get ready for the day.”

The cheetah went back to the table. Rivi made a quick breakfast from some of the other welcome basket treats. He made a sandwich of brown bread and blackberry jam, alongside an assortment of cured sausages and some dried, smoked fish. When the food was gone, he drank another glass of water to wash it all down. Then he returned his glass to the bar, and cleaned up the table, sweeping up crumbs and depositing them into a wastebasket.

Rivi went to the windows at the back of the room. He pulled the curtains aside, revealing a wide balcony, partly enclosed in glass. Sun-loungers, tables, and cushioned chairs were arranged inside the glass-walled section. Beyond it, another portion of balcony was left exposed to the elements, with a high railing encircling it. Snow smothered everything there. The sky was still white, and fresh snow continued to fall.

The cheetah unlocked the balcony, and stepped out into the glass enclosed area. Frigid air immediately bite into him, infiltrating his nightclothes and fur. Rivi shivered, rubbing his arms. He walked the balcony a little, to look down the length of the ship. In the distance, a few kobold workers in thick coats and safety harnesses dangled from long ropes, clearing snow off the ship. Rivi imagined they were doing so for weight limit purposes, as well as to clear out vents, turbine intakes, and other essential flight functions.

Rivi returned to his room, and locked the balcony doors behind him. He left the curtains open, as he preferred the snow-muffled light to the unnatural brightness of the electric lamps. Still shivering from the cold exterior air, the cheetah went to his luggage. Everything was neatly piled near the sofa where he slept. Later, he’d unpack, and move clothing and other items into the closets.

For now, he moved one of his suitcases onto the sofa, then popped it open. An assortment of clothes was neatly folded and packed inside. Rivi selected his garments for the day, then closed the suitcase up and returned it to the stack. He decided to forgo the additional long, woolen undergarments in the hopes he would not need them. Though he’d be outside on a viewing deck, the cheetah hoped other warm clothes and his overcoat would suffice. After all, once departure was concluded, he’d been returning to the ship’s far warmer embrace.

The feline carried his clothing into the washroom. He turned the lights on, and looked around. Though he’d used the facilities the previous day, before they went to dinner, he’d done so quickly and had not realized how extravagant everything was. The washroom alone was larger than Rivi imagined some of the ship’s cabins to be. It featured both a spacious shower enclosed in glass, and an oversized bathtub, sunken into the marble floor. Everything was done up in silvery hues, from the faucets, to the sink basin and the silver-framed mirror above it. Even the latrine’s tank and pull chain were embossed with silver.

Rivi went to the shower, and opened the glass door. Instead, two knobs shaped like flowers were labeled for hot, and cold. The cheetah wondered if the washroom had its own enclosed heater or boiler system, or if it drew from a larger pool of heated water. He turned the knob, and water sprayed from the nozzle, also flower shaped. The water was cold at first, but swiftly heated. Rivi looked inside an adjoining cabinet, and found soaps, fur shampoos, washcloths, towels and more. He laid a few towels out, then fetched soap, shampoo, and a washcloth.

The cheetah removed his spectacles, stripped off his nightclothes, and carried his personal cleaning products into the shower. The water was hot, almost uncomfortably so at first. But Rivi’s body quickly adjusted it. The feline sighed in contentment as he turned back and forth in the water, allowing the heat to chase away the last of the lingering chill. Once he was nice and warm, Rivi lathered up his fur from head to tail and beyond. The cheetah was all too happy to wash away the trials and tribulations of the last month or so.

Despite the impending water rationing protocols, Rivi was also happy knowing he now had access to a daily shower, however short it may be. After long, hard weeks spent traveling through areas that often lacked indoor plumbing, even a few moments a day spent rinsing his fur in hot water would be like a gift sent by the divines themselves. For now, though, he did as Argos suggested and took advantage of having all the water he could use. The cheetah stayed in the shower, savoring the simple relaxation of hot water until at last his pads began to wrinkle up. Rivi idly wondered why water was still freely available now, but after departure. He assumed that filling up their water tanks must be one of the last things done.

Rivi turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. He used a fresh towel to vigorously rub his fur, drying off best he could. As his fur dried, it stuck out at all angles. He wiped fog off the mirror, and put his spectacles on. His drying fur looked so fluffy, he almost looked as if he’d doubled his body weight. Rivi fetched a brush, and quickly worked it through his fur, brushing it out and smoothing it down. When he was dry enough for clothing, he quickly dressed.

The cheetah had selected a pair of warm, golden-hued trousers, and a long-sleeved shirt in bright silver. Each garment also bore highlights of the other color, with silver diamond patterns down the outside of his gold trousers, and golden swirls threaded along the collar, sleeves, and hem of his silver shirt. Rivi liked the way the two bright colors played off each other. It was a shame, he thought, that they’d soon be smothered under his overcoat.

Once dressed, Rivi took a few moments to adjust his clothing. The compressing feel of warm, winter clothes against freshly washed and brushed fur was sometimes uncomfortable until everything was properly settled. He brushed the fur of his head once more, and smoothed his hands back over his ears. Then he rinsed his spectacles, carefully cleaning them with a bit of soap. So long as he was gentle, and the glass lenses were free of debris, they were safe to wash without scratching them. Just the same, Rivi had purchased and packed plenty of back up pairs in case of loss or damage. After all, it would be very difficult for him to accurately document his journey without being able to see.

Rivi returned to the living area of the suite. He retrieved a pair of woolen socks from another suitcase, then sat in a recliner to put them on. Before doing so, Rivi waggled his toes, and unsheathed his toe claws. Like all his people, Rivi’s claws were both sharp, and fully retractable. He kept them trimmed, and rarely extended them in polite company. After all, in many circumstances, casually extending one’s claws could be considered impolite, or worse, a threat. Despite that, spending endless days confined to gloves and boots left Rivi with vaguely uncomfortable urge to unsheathe his claws more often. It was almost like an itch he wasn’t allowed to scratch. Still, Rivi knew a bit of daily discomfort was far preferable to frostbitten digits.

The feline retracted his toe claws, and pulled his woolen socks up over his feet. Even after so much time spent in the cold lately, the smothering feeling of such thick garments remained hard to get used to. Back home, in the warmer climes, Rivi rarely wore socks, or the sort of boots and shoes humans did. More often, he wore something closer to sandals, or other simple footwear more designed to protect his pads from cobblestones burns thanks to summer’s scorching heat. Even in the winter, when snow occasionally dusted the city, Rivi spent so much time indoors he rarely had need of anything more enclosing than simple footwarmers.

In this part of the world, however, winter boots were a must. Before Frafren abandoned him, the little white-furred fox told Rivi a story about another feline client he’d once served as porter for. That particular tiger had apparently ignored the fox’s advice, and worn only the most basic of footwear, even in the snow. If the story was true, it wasn’t terribly long before the tiger was laid up in some foreign hospital, having several of his now-blackened toes removed. Rivi shuddered at the thought, stepping into his boots. He laced them up as tight as he dared. Uncomfortable as they may be, at least he still had all his toes.

Rivi returned to his stacked suitcases, and moved one to the table. Inside were several of his prized cameras, each housed within its own carrying case. Rivi selected one referred to as the Snowblind 77. The model was so named because of its rugged construction, and ability to take clear images in a variety of lighting conditions. As much as Rivi wished he could take vibrant, color photographs during the ship’s official launch, he dared not take his Colormaster out into the snow. The Snowblind made for a suitable alternative. Rivi took the camera out, inspected it, ensured the film was loaded and prepared, and then put it back in the case.

The cheetah grabbed his room key and his billfold, and then shoved them both into his trouser pockets. Then he retrieved his overcoat, contemplating whether he should wear it through the ship, or simply carry it. He decided to wear it, but leave it unbuttoned for now. That way he’d have one less thing to carry. Next, Rivi put his warm, golden-hued gloves on. Though also prohibited the use of his claws, at least they did not feel as restrictive as his boots. Finally, Rivi took the map that Argos left him, tucked it under his arm, and let himself out of the room.

“And, we forgot the camera.” Rivi went back into the grab, fetched the camera case, and left once more. “At least we remembered it before we made it to the viewing deck, Rivi.”

Rivi locked the door, and then set the camera down to study his map. “Let’s see, Rivi. Which way do we go?” He glanced down the corridor. “Looks like left.” He picked up the camera again, then paused. “Wait, we are holding the map correctly?”

The feline set the camera back down. He lifted the map, turning it over a few times. “The arrow is clearly pointing left, from our door.” He twisted it, tilting his head. “Or is that right?” Rivi spun around to face the door. “No, it can’t be right, unless the door was on the other side of the hall.” He pivoted again, flipping the map over. “The numbers are upside down. So this can’t be right, either.” Rivi upended the map again, until the numbers Argos had written were right-side up once more. “It has to be this way. So, coming from our room…” He pressed his back to the door. “This arrow must pointing left.” Rivi looked down to the left again. Towards the junction at the end of the corridor, illuminated signs glowed beneath electric lights. “And there’s the signs for the lift stack. Well done, Rivi! We figured out the map all by ourselves.” Rivi padded down the corridor, tucking the map under his arm again. “We should be very proud of ourselves.” Rivi took a few more steps, and then promptly spun back around. “And, we forgot the camera again.”

Soon enough, the cheetah was well underway, with camera in tow. He followed the map closer, following the outlined corridors, and taking lifts only to the indicated decks. The ship was noticeably busier even than the day before. Before long, Rivi did up a few buttons on his overcoat, not because he was already cold, but rather to help keep wandering fingers further away from billfold. He also clutched his photography equipment close, lest anyone should attempt to grab it and run. Rivi pinned his ears back against the rattling din of so many voices. The myriad scents of countless peoples of all kinds mingled everywhere he went. Rivi wondered if it was possible for a nose to ever few confused. If so, his was likely to be disoriented for the duration of the voyage.

Eventually, the wash of colder air and more acrid scents indicated he had nearly reached his destination on the upper reaches of the ship. Rivi followed the scents and the faint tint of smoke in the air towards the VIP Viewing deck. Soon, a grand array of floor to ceiling windows lay before him. Beyond it stretched a vast outdoor area, akin to a gigantic balcony. Workers did the best to shovel away freshly fallen snow, while passengers milled about. A short line awaited him before he could venture outside. Rivi took his place in the queue, and waited patiently. The line moved quickly, with a tall gnoll in a crisp uniform checking peoples names and identification against a list held upon a clipboard.

“Hello,” Rivi said, once it was his turn. He offered the gnoll a smile. “My name is-”

“Name?” The gnoll glanced down, his boredom evident in his droll, monotone voice.

Rivi blinked. “Yes, well, I was about to tell you that.” He adjusted his hold on his map, and camera case. “My name is Rivimiralous, although I might be listed under Argos? Perhaps first you should check-”

“River what now?” The gnoll flipped through a few pages of information. “I don’t see a River. Are you first class? This deck is for first class and above, only.”

Rivi grit his teeth. He took a slow breath. The cheetah knew all too well that frustration, and snippy answers would only make the situation worse. “No, it’s Rivi. My full name is Rivimiralous. However…” He made sure the gnoll was actually paying attention before continuing. “I may be listed under the name of cabin mate, Argos.”

“Are Ghost, Are Ghost…” The gnoll skimmed his list again. “I don’t see any Are Ghost or River…oh, wait.” He glanced up. “Did you mean Argos?”

“Yes,” Rivi said, forcing himself to bite back all the many things he wanted to say. “That’s the one.”

“Yeah, right here.” The gnoll tapped his list. “Argos, plus one. Riv…ah…mirror…less. That you?”

Rivi feigned a smile. “Yes, Sir. That’s me. River Mirror Less.”

“Alright, go ahead.” The gnoll jerked his thumb towards the door, his attention already shifting to the person behind Rivi. “Next.”

The cheetah picked up his camera, and hurried through the exit, lest the gnoll chance his mind. Bracing cold air assaulted him the moment he stepped outside. Icy winds bit into his nose, and the inside of his ears. The sudden sting made it painfully clear that Rivi had forgotten his hat. He grimaced, forging on against the biting wind. If he went back for it now, he feared he wouldn’t return in time to document their official moment of departure.

Rivi pinned his ears against the cold and soldiered on. The viewing deck stretched on alongside the ship almost as far as he could see, slowly vanishing into the snow. A long line of loungers was up against the wall that separated the exterior deck from the interior. Rivi imagined that on a warm, sunny day they’d make for a lovely place to relax and watch the world glide by beneath the ship. Today, though, snow piled atop them. Rivi walked further, looking around for Argos, or at least a place to squeeze in near the railing and taking some photographs once they began to ascend.

The viewing area was busy, but not outrageously so. Rivi was thankful for Argos’s thoughtfulness. He could only imagine how dangerous overcrowded the steerage viewing area would be. Then again, Rivi wondered, were the passengers in steerage even given access to any exterior areas? For all he knew, they might be stuck in the ship’s cramped and dingy bowels without so much as a porthole to peek through, let alone fresh air.

By contrast, the VIP deck was positively festive. Strings of bright, crimson banners emblazoned with the Black Star Intercontinental logo hung overwhere, whipping in the icy breeze. A small brass band atop a small stage played uplifting, inspirational music. Vendors sold snack foods and hot drinks through windows. A stall offered alcoholic beverages, despite the early hour. Pursuers in brightly hued coats and with three black stars upon their backs made their way through the crowd, telling jokes, warning people about icy patches, and handing out little stuffed toys to those with children. Somewhere in the distance, another purser announced departure would commend within ten minutes.

“Hey, Spots!”

Rivi turned towards the sound of a familiar voice. A coyote waved at him from alongside the safety railing, in the distance. Rivi waved his map at the coyote, happy excitement bubbling inside him. “Argos!” His delighted exclamation came out as little more than a joyful, feline chirp. Rivi quickly cleared his throat with the deepest growl he could manage, weaving his way through the crowd. He tried to keep his jubilance under control, and his voice lower. “Argos, I made it!”

Argos wore a drab gray coat that hung nearly to his shoes. Only a few of the buttons were done up, revealing hints of a black waistcoat swirled with silver floral patterns. Despite the frigid chill, the coyote wore neither hat, nor gloves. Snow dusted his clothing and fur alike. He periodically swished his tail, scattering the snow that had accumulated over it. As Rivi neared him, Argos brushed snow off his head and ears, seemingly unbothered by the cold. Rivi found himself slightly jealous of just how well insulated coyote fur seemed to be. The cheetah also found himself once again wondering what Argos’s fur would feel like, against his bare pads.

As Rivi joined the coyote, he realized Argos was the only person standing alongside the rail who had a conspicuous amount of open space alongside him. Everywhere else, people were jammed shoulder to shoulder along the barricade. The cheetah hoped that no one had been too put out by his late arrival. He also wondered just how Argos managed to keep the space so wide open, without anyone else insisting on squeezing in next to him. Rivi decided that much like the details of Argos’s line of work, those were probably questions he shouldn’t bother asking.

“You’re just in time, Rivi.” Argos swept snow off the railing near where he stood. “Wasn’t sure you were going to make it, but I saved you a spot, just in case.”

“Aww, thank you!” Rivi set his camera case down next to the coyote. He folded up his map, and gave Argos a smile as he tucked it away inside his coat. “And thank you for the map. It was most helpful.”

“No problem, Spots.” Argos turned towards him, leaning against the banister. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like the dead, apparently.” Rivi crouched down to open up his camera case. He worked quickly to retrieve his Snowblind 77, and close the case up once again. While the camera itself was made to withstand the elements, not everything was. “I scarcely even remembered getting into bed, much less anything throughout the night.” He straightened up, looking the coyote over. “Are you sure it’s safe to lean against the railing, like that?”

Argos merely shrugged, flashing the cheetah a familiar, easygoing grin. “If it ain’t, at least I won’t have long to regret it.”

Rivi scrunched up his muzzle. “You won’t have long to…” Then it came to him, and his ears lifted. He peered over the railing. His stomach immediately lurched, then flipped over and tumbled into his boots. Most of the docking scaffolds were long since retracted, and even in port, the ground was an awfully long ways down from the ship’s upper reaches. “Oooh, because you’d fall to your death.” He gulped and took a step back.

“Yes, Spots,” Argos said, still grinning at him. “That’s the joke.”

“You’ve such a morbid sense of humor.” Rivi turned around, lifting his camera. He snapped a silvergraph of the crowd, then wound his film forward. “And so…well, perhaps it’s not exactly brave to lean against a railing, but…” He took another photo, this time of a rabbit child sitting atop her father’s shoulders, bopping him in the head with her new toy. “I’m nervous just standing so near it.”

Argos eased away from the banister, moving to stand behind Rivi. “There. Now you got a buffer zone.”

The cheetah swallowed again, glancing back. “Thank you.” His tail swished, bumping Argos’s leg.

“No problem, Spots.” Argos tilted his head, one ear lifted. “You picked a hell of a way to travel if you’re afraid of heights, though.”

Rivi managed a giggle. “Oh, I’m not afraid of being up high. I’m afraid of falling.” Rivi snapped a few more pictures, capturing the band, and a fox snuggling together in warm coats and clutching hot chocolates. “There’s a very important difference.” He turned and took another, trying to squeeze in as much of the viewing deck as he could, along with the rest of the ship looming beyond. “You see, I’m far more afraid of falling from the airship, than I am the airship itself falling out of the sky. There’s plenty of safety statistics I can cite to myself to remind me that we’re extremely unlikely to experience a catastrophic and fatal crash.”

A few people nearby shot him dirty looks. Others muttered under their breath. Rivi ignored them. The feline was so used to people looking at him in confusion or irritation that he could never quite tell for sure when he was committing a faux pau, and when people just didn’t like him because of his unusual mannerisms. Instead, the cheetah leaned back, and took a silvergraph of the striking crimson smokestack looming overhead. Black smoke drifted from it, mixing with the swirling snow and hints of ash.

“Speaking of falling from airships, lemme just keep you steady while you’re doing that.” Argos gently put a hand on the cheetah’s shoulder. “You don’t wanna topple back out here.”

“Yes, thank you, Argos.” Rivi shot another photograph, trying to compare the smokestack to the people below in order to show off the immense scale of the ship. He soon straightened up, and the coyote removed his hand. Part of Rivi was appreciative of how respectful Argos was of feline customs, as far as minimizing physical contact. Another part of him missed the coyote’s touch the moment it was gone. “I’ll try to remember not to lean back that way.”

“Good cat.” Argos looked at Rivi’s camera when the cheetah turned back towards the railing. “Oh, hey, you brought a Snowblind. What is that, a 67?”

“A 77, actually.” Rivi showed Argos the model number engraved on the bottom. “It has an increased range of aperture and shutter speeds, to allow for clearer images in a variety of lighting conditions.”

Argos made a happy little howling noise. “Oh, the brand new model. Very nice. Still silvergraphs, though?”

“Indeed.” Rivi tapped the film compartment. “However, it utilizes rolled film, for protective purposes, and to make it far more expedient to take multiple images in a short period of time.” Rivi offered it to the coyote. “Would you like to take a few shots?”

“Love too!” Argos took the camera, looking around. “Want me to take a few of the plaza for you? That way you don’t have to lean over the railing.”

“That would be wonderful, yes.” Rivi walked up to the railing, hesitantly peeking across it. “I still plan to watch the world fall away when we ascend, but I’d be ever so anxious about dropping my camera.”

Argos eased up alongside him. “I’ll take some shots for you, then.” His body brushed up against Rivi’s, his tail bumping the cheetah’s. “I got real steady hands.”

“Yes, I’m certain you do,” Rivi said, realizing a little too late just how unintentionally innuendo-laden that sounded. “Because you handle a lot of pistols, I mean.” The cheetah blinked, his ears burning, cheeks heating beneath his fur. “Guns, that is. Actual guns. N-not anything else.” Rivi cleared his throat, and forced himself to rest against the banister, peering down at the world below. Again, his stomach flip-flopped, but he held his ground. “M-my what a view.”

“It sure is.” Argos leaned against the barricade, lifting the camera. He twisted a few knobs, altering the aperture. “Lemme get a few shots of that, for you.”

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Rivi glanced over, watching as the coyote made his adjustments. “I see you know what you’re doing with that.”

Argos smirked, peering through the viewfinder. “Yeah, I’m pretty good at handling sensitive equipment.”

The cheetah nearly choked on his tongue. Rivi coughed hard a few times, then swallowed. “Yes,” Rivi said, stealing a glance at the coyote. He permitted himself a tiny, playful smile, albeit a short-lived one. “I can imagine that you are.”

Argos looked over at him, his smirk growing. “Oh, hey, you caught on that time.”

Rivi allowed his eyes to meet Argos’s, and linger there, if only for a moment. “Oh, I manage to successfully identify at least one out of ten or so bawdy innuendos that get bandied about.” He looked away again, lest he found himself drowning in the golden oceans of Argos’s beautiful eyes. “Not to rehash our private conservations from the day before, but would it offend you, if I were offer you a compliment?”

The coyote turned his attention back to the plaza below. He scanned it in silence for a few moments, then lifted the camera. “Not in the least, Spots.”

Rivi swallowed again. “I might like to, in the knowledge that you and I…” The cheetah rubbed his gloved hands together. “Share an affliction, as it were.”

“Ain’t an affliction,” Argos said, taking a picture. “And you can compliment me as much you’re comfortable with.”

“This is already past the limits of my comfort.” Rivi gave nervous laugh, his tail swishing. Now and then it brushed Argos’s, and each time Rivi shivered, ever so slightly. “But given what we know about one another, I should simply like to verbalize what is admittedly an impure thought. A minor one, but impure just the same. Though, I’d not like for anyone else to hear.”

Argos took another shot, then offered the feline a sidelong glance. “Whisper it to me, then.”

Rivi glanced around. He did not immediately see any other felines in earshot. For that matter, he did not see anyone else paying them much attention at all. He rose to his tiptoes, and put his muzzle as near to Argos’s ear as he dared. “You have beautiful eyes.”

“Aww, thank you, Spots.” Argos smiled at him, a larger, more genuine grin than before. Something unidentifiably joyful sparkled in his dazzling golden eyes. “So do you, Cat.”

Rivi chittered nervous feline laughter. He could hardly believe what he’d dared just say aloud to another male, let alone that said other male actually appreciated it. “I feel so naughty now! I…” It took a moment for Argos’s returned compliment to settle in. Rivi’s eyes widened behind his spectacles. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” Argos peered through the camera’s viewfinder, snapping a picture. “You got fucking gorgeous eyes, Spots.”

“I do not!” Rivi was caught so off-guard he wasn’t even sure how to take the coyote’s words. “They’re all bleary and semi-functional and weirdly magnified by my spectacles and anything but gorgeous and…” His voice dropped back into a whisper. “Should we really be having this conversation in public?”

“Just exchanging compliments.” Argos gave the cheetah a sidelong glance. “I got way more flowery words I can offer you in private, if you want.”

“I…um…” Rivi wrung his hands, another little bubbling giggle soon escaping him. “I wouldn’t not like being complimented, but…” He ran his gloved hands back over his ears, brushing melting snow from his head. “Perhaps a conversation for another time.”

“Only if you’re comfortable.” Argos lowered the camera, turning towards Rivi. He lifted his ears, earnestness replacing his usual playfulness and sarcasm. “Thank you, though. I really do appreciate it.” He waved towards the smokestack looming in the distance. “You want me to get a picture of you up here? If you stand by that drink stand, I think I can one of you, with the smokestack in the background.”

“Certainly,” the cheetah said, struggling to control his happy giggles.

The cheetah crossed the deck, weaving around other people. He wasn’t sure anyone, save his mother, had ever complimented his eyes before. It wasn’t as if Rivi didn’t appreciate the red-gold color of his own eyes. It was simply that he disliked the way they looked behind his spectacles. Not to mention the fact that without said spectacles, his eyes scarcely even functioned properly. And, Argos suggested he had even compliments to offer? Rivi was somehow both excited and terrified at the same time. He may as well have been sharing a cabin with sinful temptation itself.

“How’s this?” Rivi glanced up at the smokestack looming over head, then took a few steps sideways, moving closer to the drink stand. He didn’t want to interfere with the short line of people waiting to order beverages. “I can move to the other side of the line, if need be.”

Argos shooed a few people out of the way, then peered through the viewfinder. “Nah, that should be okay.” The coyote crouched down, turning the camera sideways, and pointing it upwards. “I can get all of it. This is gonna give a great sense of scale, but it might look kinda artsy. That okay?”

“That’s fine.” Rivi held a hand up as if waving to the camera. “Go ahead and take it.”

Argos took the picture, then stood back up. “Okay, got it.”

Rivi returned to the coyote, shaking snow from his coat. “Thank you, for that.”

“No problem, Spots.” Argos quickly wound the film forward. “You want it back, or you want me to take a few more?”

“You seem to be doing a fine job, so far.” Rivi stepped closer to the railing, marshalling his courage. “If you’re able to get a few more of the plaza below us, and the city beyond, I’d appreciate it.” He gazed into the snow-shrouded distance, where the world vanished into a swirling white haze. “As much as you can see of it, anyway.”

“I can do that.” Argos turned towards the rail, and took another silvergraph. “How many do you want?”

“Three or four, perhaps?” Rivi rested his arms against the banister. “That will bring us roughly halfway through the film I put in. I want to make sure I also get some pictures of the world falling away beneath us as we ascend.” Rivi crinked up his muzzle when a fat snowflake landed directly on his nose. “Though I realize the snow’s going to make that a bit difficult.”

Argos scanned the world through the viewfinder. “Just have to make do with what you can get. They’ll be accurate, at least.”

“That they will.” Rivi shifted closer to the coyote, till their bodies were nearly brushing one another. “And my last intercontinental airship departure happened on a lovely, sunny day. So I’ve already gotten plenty of photographs of the world growing smaller and smaller.”

The coyote snapped a picture, then cranked the film dial. “How long you been traveling, anyway?”

“I’ve no idea, at this point,” Rivi said, chittering laughter. “A number of months, at least. This was only the second continent I’ve been to, after leaving my homeland. And they’ve both been relatively small, compared to home, and those ahead of me. The pilgrimage is generally expected to take roughly two years to complete, give or take…” The cheetah scowled, flattening his ears. “Well, another year or so.”

Argos lowered the camera, turning towards the feline. “That’s a long time for you to be traveling alone.”

“Well, it’s a long journey.” Rivi brushed snow off his head, his tail flicking. “Hell, even this trip is going to take months, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, two at the least.” Argos leaned up against the barricade. “Three is more common. But it depends a lot on weather, winds, how long we spend in ports along the way, if we gotta try to avoid major storms and hazards, all that shit. It’s a long, long way across the Sundered Seas, skirting around things like The Emptiness, and the Writhing Chasms. This is of the longer intercontinental routes in the world, actually.”

Rivi scratched one of his ears. “Yes, and I think I’m booked on all of them. Part of the Pilgrimage’s intent is to experience things like that, after all. I’m really still near the start of my journey.”

The coyote grunted, his ears splaying. “That fucker who was supposed to be guiding you gave up awful quick, didn’t he?”

Rivi sneered, a single fang exposed. “That he did. When all is said and done, I shall write a very sternly worded letter to his employment agency!” He slapped the railing. “And furthermore, I shall recommend both in my writings and to the relevant Ministries that they never be hired again.”

“Yeah, you do that.” Argos returned to staring through the camera’s viewfinder. “That sack of shit’s just lucky I ain’t got time to go find him myself.” The camera clicked as he took another image. “But like I said…” Argos wound the film. “When we reach our destination, I’ll make sure you’re set up with someone trustworthy before Iosa and I move on. The kinda folk who’ll make sure you not only finish your pilgrimage, but make it home safe.”

Rivi smiled, bowing his head in gratitude to the coyote. “Thank you, Argos. Your help in that matter will be very much appreciated. And I’m sure the certain the Church would be happy to cover the additional expenses. After all, they’ll surely be looking to get their funding back from the previous agency.”

A loud, brassy horn sounded. A moment later, a trio of shorter horns followed. The ship rumbled somewhere deep inside, and the deck trembled slightly beneath Rivi. A faint whooshing sound rose in the distance. At first it was muffled by the snow, but the sound grew steadily louder and more urgent, until urgency turned to anger, and the whooshing to a constant, buzzing whumpwhump. Rivi twisted around, trying to spot the nearest set of propulsion turbines. Already they were spinning faster than his eyes could follow, just a black blur that sent snow whirling away in twisting vortexes.

Excitement flooded Rivi’s belly in churning waves, temporarily overwhelming the lingering anxiety. “Oh, we’re finally launching!” The cheetah bounced on his toes. “This is so exciting!”

“Careful, Spots.” Argos tucked the camera under an arm, grasping Rivi’s sleeve. “As soon as the first anchors come free, it’s probably gonna lurch around a bit. One section’s gonna try to rise while the rest is still held down. I’m expecting a rougher de-anchoring than usual cause they’re gonna try and do it real quick.”

“Right, thank you.” Rivi steadied himself, grasping the handrail tightly. “Is that because of the refugees?”

“Yeah.” Argos kept his grip on the cheetah’s sleeve. “They got a hell of a lot of them on board, but they couldn’t get everyone. Once they see the ship starting to leave, some of them might panic and do something stupid like, try to scramble up the scaffolds. Or worse, climb the anchoring chairs or something. The faster the ship launches, the safer it’ll be not just for the dock workers, but for all the poor bastards still down there.”

Rivi forced himself to peer over the railing. Through the swirling snow, he vaguely made out crowds of people huddled in the plaza. Several long lines of armed Tavosan soldiers stood between the remaining refugees and the ship. Behind the soldiers, local port workers scurried around in groups. Some of them detached and wheeled away the last of the docking scaffolds that held the ship steady while it was in port, and allowed the engineers to access every inch of its exterior. Others prepared to detach the countless heavy chains anchoring the vessel.

Though Rivi did not know the particulars of this vessel, many smaller passenger airships were often technically floating even when they were docked. Great gasbags filled with lifting gasses gave the ships their buoyancy, while the engines and turbines propelled them forward. While the Worldstrider had no obvious, external airbags, Rivi imagined it had immense internal ones that ran the length of the ship, hidden away and armored like those on a military vessel.

The cheetah returned his attention to the refugees. He was certain those remaining already knew they would not be allowed to board. Yet seeing the final departure preparations underway surely hammered home the harsh reality that they were stuck here, come what may. Just as Argos predicted, some of them started to try and force their way to the vessel, only to be repulsed by the soldiers. That in turn caused fresh unrest to roll through the crowd. Rivi could not hear anything above the increasingly noisy propellers and rumbling turbines, but he could imagine the angry calls from the frightened crowd, and the shouted orders from those tasked with keeping order, and the dockworkers safe.

“Can you get a picture of that, please?” Rivi lifted a hand from the faintly vibrating rail long enough to point to the plaza. “I think it’s important to document everything in the world, even its sorrows.”

“Sure thing, Spots.” Argos lifted the camera again, taking a few pictures of the scrum below. “Look, Rivi.” He glanced over at the cheetah. “If I think it’s about to get ugly down there, you want me to pull you away, before you see something you ain’t gonna want too?”

Rivi glanced over at the cheetah, his ears splayed. “What do you mean?”

Argos grimaced, brushing snow off his head. “The soldiers ain’t carrying those rifles for show, Spots.”

“Oh…” Rivi’s stomach twisted in on itself. “That sort of ugliness. You can warn me, but…” The cheetah scowled, his tail swishing swiftly. “You should take photos, if it does. As terrible as it would be to witness such atrocities, it would be far more terrible to ignore them. To forget them.”

“As you wish.” Argos snapped another photo. “So far, doesn’t look like anyone’s quite desperate enough to risk taking a bullet, let alone falling to their deaths. But that’s why they’re gonna launch as quick as they can. The sooner we’re out of reach, the sooner the temptation to do something stupid goes away.”

Rivi sighed, his ears drooping. How he pitied all those poor people down there. He could scarcely imagine how cold and hungry they must be. How frightened they must be. The cheetah was glad at least that the crowds were vastly diminished compared to the previous day. It pleased Rivi to see that captain’s gambit to reduce the ship’s unnecessary weight in exchange for more passengers had paid off, as much as possible. Now, he could only hope that those who hadn’t made the cut would make it through whatever hardships were yet to come.

The ship suddenly lurched upwards as several nearby anchoring chains were detached all at once. Rivi’s knees buckled, his stomach flipped over. He squeezed the railing tightly, his arms aching as he struggled not just for balance, but to avoid following over entirely. Behind him, those without a handhold stumbled above, many of them bumping into others. A few toppled to the deck. Meanwhile, Argos rode it out like a lifelong sailor, swaying in time to the waves.

“You want any help, Spots?” Argos held his free arm out towards the feline, camera cradled in the other. “I can keep you steady, if you want, but I gotta put my arm around you.”

The ship lurched again, straining Rivi’s arms as he struggled to keep hold of the barrister. “G-go ahead.”

Argos pressed himself against the cheetah’s side, then put his arm around Rivi’s shoulder. He squeezed the cheetah up against his body, holding him stable even as the ship went through another seismic lurch. For a moment, Rivi’s mind went blank. In place of thoughts, there were only sensations. The warmth, of Argos’s body, pressed against his own. The firmness of the coyote’s grip against his shoulder. The security of being held so close, and so safe. It was all Rivi could do just to keep from melting into the coyote’s grasp, and laying his head against Argos’s shoulder. Even without impurity as a contributing factor, the cheetah knew that to do so would be an enormous breach of etiquette, and of the coyote’s personal space. And yet, something about the idea just felt right. Nonetheless, Rivi resisted the impure urge, even as he savored the warm comfort of having Argos holding him close, and keeping him safe.

When next the ship’s deck heaved beneath him, Argos held him tight. Rivi leaned against the coyote’s side, telling himself it was merely to maintain his balance. He forced himself to stare down at the plaza far below, if only because he feared losing himself in the coyote’s eyes, should he look at Argos right now. Argos only held him tighter still, as if to encourage Rivi to rest against the coyote’s frame.

Even through his coat, Rivi could not help but notice how powerful Argos’s body felt. Though outwardly the coyote seemed to possess the same lean, wiry build common to most of his people, pressed so firmly against the cheetah, Argos’s form felt far more statuesque. Rivi could only imagine the sort of training regimen that secret policemen must impose upon themselves in order to remain in proper shape for such a dangerous line of work.

The ship rolled beneath them a few more times as each set of anchoring chains was released. With every movement, people stumbled or wobbled, or desperately clutched at railings and handholds for balance. Rivi, though, stayed as steady and upright in Argos’s embrace as he would be on solid ground. The cheetah imagined he could have released the banister, and still remained stable.

“You must ride airships a lot,” Rivi said. He splayed his ears in dismay at the sound of his own voice. It came out far softer, and breathier than intended. He tried to force some strength into it. “You handle it like a lifelong sailor.”

“Been on my fair share, yeah.” Argos kept his arm firmly around Rivi’s shoulders. “I gotta travel the world a lot, for work. Probably more the training, though. You’d be shocked by how much of learning to fight is actually learning how to keep your balance and shit.”

“I can imagine that would be important, yes.” Rivi allowed himself to learn a little harder against Argos. The ship gradually evened out, floating in place above the docks. “Have you had to use that sort of training very often?”

The coyote yipped bittersweet laughter. “More times than you could count, Spots.”

Rivi turned his head slightly to stare at Argos’s hand against his arm. Snow dusted the coyote’s tan-furred fingers, but he scarcely even seemed to notice. “I’ve never even been in a fight.” He crinkled his muzzle. “I’ve been struck, but…”

Rivi fell silent as memories of pain, humiliation, and shame washed through his mind. The cheetah’s ears drooped, and a little whine escaped him. Most days, those memories were hidden in the deepest, darkest crevices he could find within his mind. But now and then they bubbled back up, and each time, they left Rivi aching a little inside. A fresh wave of humiliation washed through him, and he looked down at his boots. Snow smothered the deck beneath them.

“I’m sorry,” the cheetah said, barely audible above the engines. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. We aren’t to talk about that, anyway.”

“You got nothing to be sorry for, Rivi.” Pain left Argos’s every word trembling and taut. “You ain’t ever got to apologize for the cruelty of others. And you damn sure don’t got to apologize for talking about it.” Argos gulped audibly, his hand roaming up and down Rivi’s upper arm in a comforting caress. “I got a pretty good idea of what you’re talking about. And I know it hurts, down in your soul, so I ain’t gonna ask you about it. But I am gonna let you know that if you ever wanna talk about it? Then I’ll always be happy to listen.”

The cheetah sniffled a little, blinking back a few unshed tears. His throat burned, threatening to clench up. “Thank you, Argos.” Rivi appreciated the coyote’s offer, but Argos was right. He did not want to talk about those days. “Anyway, those…” Rivi considered his words, choosing them carefully. “Incidents wouldn’t count as being in a fight, anyway. It wasn’t my place to try and strike them back. After all, they were only trying to fix-”

“Fuck that.” Argos snarled, turning Rivi towards him. He fixed his golden eyes upon the cheetah. “Ain’t no part of you needs fixing. You’re exactly who you’re supposed to be. And no matter what anyone believes, that don’t give them any right to hurt you. You understand?”

Rivi stammered, adrift in Argos’s endlessly golden eyes. “I-I suppose, but if I was acting impurely in public, then-”

“Noone,” Argos said, jabbing a finger into Rivi’s chest. “Has a right.” He poked the cheetah again. “To hurt you.” Argos softened his voice, if only slightly. “This is important, Rivi. I know your Church has some…” He paused, then grimaced as if painfully forcing himself to use gentler language than he wished for Rivi’s benefit. “Extremely negative beliefs about people like us. But there ain’t no belief in the world that gives someone the right to hurt those who ain’t done nothing to deserve it. So, Spots.” Argos took a small step back, holding Rivi’s camera in both hands. “If you wanna get this back, then I want to hear you tell yourself…” He cleared his throat, then lifted his voice, feigning a feline accent. “No one has a right to hurt us, Rivi.”

Rivi blinked, glancing around. By now, the earlier fire in Argos’s voice had drawn the attention of some of the other bystanders. A few of them openly stared at the cheetah and coyote, while others poorly disguised their attempts at eavesdropping. Rivi wrung his hands, stepping closer to Argos.

The cheetah lowered his voice to a worried whisper. “Argos, people are looking at us!”

“So what?” The coyote, by contrast, spoke loudly and sharply enough to convince a few of the eavesdroppers to swiftly turn away. “Fuck ‘em. This is important, Spots. There’s a few things I wanna teach you, while we’re traveling together. And one of them is that just because you might be a little different, don’t mean you deserve to be treated different. And you sure as hell don’t deserve nobody hittin’ you just because they mighta caught you makin’ eyes at a lion, instead of a lioness.”

“Argos,” Rivi said, his voice twisting into a nervous whimper. “People can hear you.”

“And again, fuck em.” The coyote took another step back. People moved out of his way. “That’s another thing I’m hoping you learn. That it don’t matter one tiny bit what other people think of you. But one lesson at a time.” Argos waggled the camera. “You want this back, or you want me to keep it?”

Rivi gazed around. This time, anyone who’d been listening in earlier made a point not to meet his gaze. Many occupied themselves by making unrelated small talk with their neighbors. The cheetah took a deep breath, turning his eyes back to the coyote. Perhaps, he thought, if he feigned a little more courage, and a little more indifference to people’s disgust long enough, he might start to feel it. He forced a smile to his muzzle. “I suppose that depends on how willing you are to continue serving as my photographer.”

Argos gave a little bark of laughter. “I like the spirit at least, Spots. But this is important. I think you need to hear yourself say it.” He glanced down at the camera, grinning. “If false threats ain’t gonna work, I ain’t too proud to resort to beggin’. You want me on my knees for you, is that it? Cause I’ll do it.”

Rivi rolled his eyes. “You certainly don’t have too…”

The cheetah trailed off when he saw the smirk spread across Argos’s muzzle. Only then did he realize the coyote’s double entendre. Rivi’s ears suddenly burned white hot, surely flushing scarlet beneath his fur. He opened and closed his muzzle, torn between embarrassed horror and bawdy amusement. The cheetah clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the burst of giggles suddenly threatening to spill across his tongue.

Somehow, Argos always seemed to have something witty to say. Dirty, and often impure, but witty just the same. And so often, the coyote seemed to know just when to make such an improper jest in order to diffuse the tension, or brighten the mood. Rivi wished his own backwards brain could come up with discomfort diffusing witticisms as quickly as Argos did. Hell, the best retort Rivi could think of was…Rivi sucked in a little breath when something actually popped into his head. Every instinct he had screamed at him not to say it. We’ll screw it up, Rivi, just like last time. Better to say nothing! It’s terribly impure!

“Oh, we’re impure, Rivi!” The cheetah snapped his jaws, hissing at himself. “We may as well get to say impure things once in a while!” Rivi clamped his jaws shut as soon as he realized he’d said that last part aloud. “And, we ruined it.” His shoulders sagged. “We had a funny riposte about you kneeling, Argos.” He looked away. “But we botched it. As usual.”

Argos smirk only grew. “You didn’t botch nothing, Spots. You want me to say my line again?”

Rivi glanced up, shrugging. “I fear the moment has passed, but…” Rivi gave a little snort, shaking himself. “Oh, Rivi, how often do we get to make impure jokes to someone who’ll appreciate them?” He straightened himself up, smiling. “Yes! Please say the part about being on your knees again.” Rivi glanced around, hoping no one else was still paying them too much attention.

Argos cleared his throat with a little growl. When he spoke again, his words were smooth and sweet, like velvet and honey. “You want me on my knees for you, Spots?” Argos’s voice caressed Rivi’s ears and imagination alike. “Cause I’ll do it.”

Rivi shivered, his fur bristling and body tingling in forbidden excitement. “Well,” he said, stepping closer to the coyote again. “Not in public, at least.”

Argos stared at him in silence just long enough for dread to creep into the back of Rivi’s mind. Had he overstepped his boundaries? Had he made too dirty, an entendre? Just as he opened his muzzle, intent on apologizing, Argos erupted into happy, barking laughter. It quickly proved contagious, washing away Rivi’s worried uncertainty in a tide of mewling, chirping feline giggles.

“Hey,” Argos said, still laughing. “That’s pretty good, Spots! I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” Rivi continued giggling, savoring the mirth dancing in the coyote’s eyes. He focused on Argos, doing what he could do ignore what were surely expressions of disgust and offense all around him. “You get it, right? Because you couldn’t do something so lascivious in public!”

The coyote laughed harder. “Yes, Spots, I get it. And you know…” His voice returned to the dangerous silken tone. “We do have a private cabin.” If Argos was a feline, Rivi was certain he would have purred those words.

“W-we do.” Rivi’s face grew white hot under his fur. The rest of his body soon followed suit, flushing all too warm beneath his clothing. He turned away, brushing snow off his head with both hands lest it should melt and pour icy trickles down his body. “I uh, hadn’t…” He licked his muzzle, his tail flicking swiftly in broken, off time rhythms. “Considered that when I made my remark. Now I’m struggling to un-consider it!”

Argos put a hand against Rivi’s back. “Sorry, too much?”

“No, no.” Rivi shook his head, managing a smile. “I’m enjoying these moments of tawdry banter betwixt us. They’re simply…” He flourished a golden-gloved hand. “A lot. Much more than I’m used to.”

“One step at a time then, huh?” Argos swept more snow off of Rivi’s shoulders. “Alright, Spots. You collect yourself, cause you still got something important to say.”

Rivi flicked an ear back. “You really want me to say that?”

“Yes, I really do.” Argos gently turned the cheetah back towards him, Rivi’s camera still cradled in one arm. “More importantly, you need to hear yourself say it.” A flicker of concern crossed his face, his ears shifting back. “I hope you didn’t take no offense, when I spoke like you a few minutes ago. I just thought that’s how you oughta say it, since that’s how you speak to yourself otherwise.”

“From you?” Rivi smiled. “No offense was taken. And I suppose if that’s how I disparage myself, it may as well be how I lift myself up.”

“Exactly.” Argos squeezed his shoulder, smiling. “Go on, then Spots. No one has the right to hurt you. Lemme hear it.”

Rivi drew himself up, taking a breath. He had every intention of speaking loud and strong, and yet, when he actually forced the words across his tongue, they came out as little more than a mumbling. “No one has the right to hurt us, Rivi.” He looked away. “It feels weird to say that, Argos.”

“I know, Spots. But I want you to try again.” He held a hand out. “If it helps, you can hold my hand. You got your gloves on after all, right?”

“I do, but…” Rivi peered down at Argos’s hand. Snowflakes melted against his soft, gray palm pad. “Why?”

“Because I figure this is painful, for you.” Argos shrugged. “And sometimes, people hold each other’s hands, to help them get through painful things.”

Rivi slowly lifted his face. “They do?”

“They do where I’m from, anyway.” Argos kept his arm outstretched towards the feline. “It’s only an offer. You don’t gotta take my hand if you don’t want.”

“Well…” Rivi slowly lifted up his own hand. “I do have my gloves on. But isn’t that sort of thing for children? I don’t think anyone’s held my hand since I was a little school-kitten. And…people will see. And hear me say it…”

The coyote tilted his head. “Do I gotta tell you again that everyone else can fuck right off? Cause I will, if I need to. And if no one ain’t held your hand in that long, I’d say it’s about damn time someone does.”

Rivi stared at his own hand. He waggled his gloved fingers. How long had it been since someone else held his hand, in a trying time? Probably since his mother gave him her own hand to squeeze, while he had a few stitches put into his ear, after a youthful accident. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

“Go on then,” Argos said. “I’ll let you do the honors, so you can move at your own pace.”

Rivi forced himself to focus only on Argos, and ignore everyone else. He slowly reached for the coyote’s hand, unsure exactly how to go about grasping it. He laid his fingers over Argos’s palm. The way Argos chuckled to himself left Rivi thinking he must not be doing it right. He shifted his hand until more of his palm rested against Argos’s. Rivi was thankful for the layers and leather and insulation that separated their pads. Argos slowly closed his fingers around Rivi’s hand, and gently squeezed it.

“Alright, Spots.” Argos smiled at him, his grip gentle yet encouraging. “You can do it. Say it loudly, say it clearly, and believe the words you speak.”

Rivi stared down at their enjoined hands. “No one has the right to hurt us, Rivi.”

Argos tightened his grip. “Nah, come on, Spots. Stand up straight. Squeeze my hand. Say it like it’s scripture from your Divines themselves, because if you ask me, it damn sure oughta be.”

Rivi straightened up, and squared his shoulders. He squeezed Argos’s hand. “No one has the right to hurt us, Rivi!” This time, a little snarl crept into his voice, unbidden but welcome. “No one has the right to hurt us!”

“Good, cat.” Argos pulled him closer. “One more time. Say it, like you’re telling it to someone you care about. Someone whose heart breaks every time you come home bloodied and cryin’. Someone who only wishes you’d realize you don’t deserve to suffer for someone else’s beliefs. Say it, Rivi.”

In his mind, Rivi saw his mother, smiling at him. A smile that belied the pain in her eyes, while she cleaned the blood from his fur. His jaw trembled. He took a slow, shivering breath, and when he spoke, his voice was a hiss that became a snarl, speaking the words he knew she longed to tell him, yet was not allowed. “No one has the right to hurt us, Rivi! No one has the right to hurt us!”

“That’s right, Spots.” Argos squeezed his hand tightly. “That’s goddamn right. And don’t you forget it.”

Rivi smiled, slowly withdrawing his hand from Argos’s grasp. He had to admit, saying that out loud felt good. The cheetah was not sure he actually believed it, but it felt right to say. The idea warmed him more than countless layers of clothing ever could. Maybe he didn’t deserve to be slapped across the muzzle, just for doing something impure. Maybe he didn’t deserve to be hit, and struck, and beaten just for his sinful nature. Maybe he didn’t deserve pain, just for being different.

“Here.” Argos offered the feline his camera back. “We’re gonna be moving any second now, so you might wanna get some pictures of the city sliding away beneath us.”

“Oh, right, yes.” Rivi was so wrapped up in his thoughts he’d almost forgotten his need to document their departure. He checked the film, adjusted a few settings, then stepped closer to the rail. “Thank you, Argos.” Rivi glanced over at the coyote. “For convincing me to say that.”

“You’re welcome, Spots.” The coyote stepped up to the barricade, standing alongside him. “Saying it’s the easy part. The hard part…” He gently tapped Rivi’s head, between his ears. “Is convincing you to believe it in here.” Then he tapped the feline’s chest. “And in here. But saying it’s the first step.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Rivi peered through the view finder, down at the plaza. They were noticeably floating now, the anchoring chains nearly finished retracting. Rivi couldn’t see anyone clinging to them, but that didn’t mean people hadn’t tried. Some in the crowd still clashed with the guards, trying to push past them. A few threw stones, and bottles. Others had drifted away from the boarding area, and now sat forlornly upon the cold, snowy ground. Others huddled together, their shoulders sagging as the weight of their situation finally came to bear upon them. “Do you think they’ll be alright?”

Argos leaned against the banister, bracing his arms against it. “I dunno, Spots. The captain helped as many people as he could, and…” The coyote sighed, shaking his head. “I guess we gotta look at that way. Iosa likes to tell me shit like, I can’t save everyone, or I can’t save the world. And I hate it, but she’s right.”

“I just…” Rivi sighed, taking a picture of a wolf dressed in a tattered coat, waving to the ship. He wondered if the wolf was waving farewell to his family. Perhaps he’d given up his own chance to escape on the ship, in order to ensure his child was aboard, instead. “Wish we could do something.”

“Me too, Spots.” Argos gave a frustrated sounding growl. “But the world’s a real shitty place, sometimes. I already spread some money around, paid to make sure some of ‘em them will get food, at least. A bed. Ain’t much more the two of us, as individuals, can do. We could give up our cabin, let them squeeze in another few people. But then we’d be down there, wondering if we were gonna survive till spring. And my missions would go incomplete, and your pilgrimage would go unfinished. Someone’s always gonna suffer, so…” He glanced over at the cheetah. “Sometimes, the best you can do, is try to make the world a little less shitty, one day at a time. One person at time. I figure, I can’t help those poor bastards anymore, but…” Argos fell silent, staring at the cheetah for a little while. “Maybe at least I can help this poor bastard, for a while.”

Rivi splayed his ears, looking around. “Which poor bastard?” After a moment, it clicked. “Oh. You mean me.”

“I mean you.” Argos raised a hand. “I mean to drill as much self-worth, and survival instincts into that sheltered head of yours as I can. In the hopes that when we part, I may have improved your life in some small, but meaningful way. At the very least, I’ll make sure you’re better prepared for the rest of this pilgrimage when you step off this ship, than you were when you stepped onto it.”

Rivi stared down at the ground as the roar of the propulsion turbines grew. Ever so slowly, the ship inched forward, and the city below began to slide past beneath them. People across the deck applauded and cheered the belated arrival of the vessel’s launch. “I appreciate that, Argos. Probably more than you realize.”

The cheetah swallowed. It dismayed him to think that Argos already seemed more invested in his success than his hired guide ever had. Hell, even his own people hadn’t exactly filled his head with the sort of worldly knowledge required to undertake such a journey. Tradition dictated that he learn the ways of the foreign realms by experiencing them firsthand, and yet, tradition wasn’t going to keep his billfold safe, or his throat uncut.

Rivi sighed as the plaza gradually slipped away. People continued to cheer and clap and holler, but Rivi found himself sharing their exuberance far less than he’d anticipated. He took a photograph of the docking scaffolds that were now behind them, just before they vanished into the snow. Then he turned around and snapped a few more pictures of the impromptu celebrations stretching across the viewing area.

“Well, we’re finally departing, and…” Rivi lowered his camera. “I don’t feel half as jubilant as they do. Which is unfortunate, because I was ever so excited for this moment, not all that long ago.”

“I’m sorry, Spots.” Argos hung his head, his ears drooping. “That’s probably my fault. I shoulda just kept my snout shut, and let you enjoy the moment. I plenty of time to teach you shit later.”

“Perhaps, but…” Rivi fidgeted with the lens of the camera. “Please don’t feel bad. I’m honestly grateful you’re looking out for me, this way. I’m…” He shifted a little closer, until his body brushed against Argos. “I’m happy to be here, just the same. In this important milestone on my pilgrimage. In this moment…” He cast a shy, sidelong glance at the coyote. “With you.”

A smile slowly broke out across Argos’s muzzle. He lifted his head, straightening up. “Yeah. Me too.” Argos’s tail swished, bumping against Rivi’s. “I’m glad we met, Spots.”

“As am I,” Rivi said. He tucked his camera beneath his arm, wishing simply to savor the moment. “And not simply because I might dead, if you hadn’t saved me.”

Argos laughed a little. “Yeah, that too.” He glanced over, one ear lifted. “You know, once we’re outside the city, we’re gonna pass over some pretty craggy cliffs as we reach the sea. It might get a little turbulent. If you wanted…” Argos brushed some snow off Rivi’s coat. “I could put my arm around you, again. You know. Just to keep you steady.”

“I…” Rivi swallowed.

He took a few nervous, panting breaths, considering the implications of both the offer, and its acceptance. A million voices screamed at him to turn Argos down, that the coyote was offering more than just an arm to keep him steady. He was offering temptation, a pathway to impurity far more tainted than mere stray thoughts. Turn him down, Rivi. We can’t give into this sort of thing. Normally, Rivi would listen to those voices. Normally, he’d shrug off the coyote’s touch, and politely decline. But what had that ever gotten him, besides loneliness? Forget what we should do, Rivi, what do we want?

Rivi wanted to be held.

The cheetah eased closer to Argos, daring to allow their bodies to touch. He glanced at Argos, an ever so shy smile upon his muzzle. “I’d like that.”

Argos put his arm around Rivi, and pulled him close. All at once, Rivi’s worries faded away. The frigid cold was forgotten. He relaxed against Argos until his weight was resting against the coyote. In return, Argos held him tighter still, rubbing his arm. Heartbeat by heartbeat, everything in Rivi melted away into warm contentment.

Together, they watched the world dissolve into swirling snow.