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Chapter Five

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Rivi busied himself best he could while Argos spoke to the concierge on his behalf. He inspected his belongings, pleased to see nothing had moved about, or rifled through. Rivi decided to document the great crowds that swelled inside the grand vessel. Now that he was out of the worst of the elements, it was a good a time as any to take a few color photographs. He retrieved his Crystal Colormaster 7-5, and took a number of images with it. The Crystal Colormaster was among the newest, most valuable piece of equipment Rivi had with him. As the name implied, it took full color photographs. It shot on highly specialized, carefully rolled film, that alone already cost more than most of his other cameras did. Despite that, Rivi had an entire bag filled with it, all precisely packed to protect it from the elements and from excess light. Once he had enough new pictures, he returned the camera to its protective case.

The cheetah looked over Argos again. The human looked grim, yet the coyote looked grimmer still. Rivi flattened his ears. Things did not look as if they were going well. Not that he was surprised. The concierge had made it quite clear to him that steerage was his only option. Still, he held out hope that his new friend Mister Secret Policeman might be able to find a loophole or some other means through which to help Rivi out. Even if he was able to find him secure storage space of his luggage, that would have been a weight off Rivi’s chest. And, if Argos was able to pull some strings, and find him a bed to sleep in, instead of the floor? That would have been even better. Hell, he’d settle for a bench in a quiet room, at this rate.

“Wait, Rivi…” The cheetah turned away, his tail lashing. “What is it we’re hoping for? If he’s part of the secret police…” Rivi paced alongside his luggage case, his face twisting. “Then do we really want him to pull strings? No, no, no! We don’t want him to evict anyone, Rivi. That wouldn’t be fair at all. Oh…” The cheetah whined, wringing his hands. “We never should have asked for his help, Rivi. Not with this, anyway. Maybe…” He paused, tilting his head. “Maybe we should go make it clear, we don’t want to steal someone’s room.”

Rivi turned back towards the coyote, and the human. From his vantage, he could not see past the counter, but the human was writing something down. Argos didn’t look happy. The coyote’s ears were set to irritable angles, his lips curled slightly around his muzzle. His bushy, gray and tan tail stuck out behind him, as if starched by its own indignancy. Rivi swallowed. Whatever was going on, he hoped he had not angered Argos. Or the concierge. Or that Argos hadn’t insisted someone be removed, just for Rivi to get a room. If that was the case, he’d have to go back to the concierge himself, and request an annulment.

“Yes, Rivi,” the cheetah said, pacing again. “As terrible as steerage is, taking it instead of someone else’s rightful cabin would be the moral, pure-hearted thing to do.” He licked his nose. “Surely steerage won’t be that bad. Perhaps we’ll even make some friends down there. Yes.” Rivi straightened, and spun around, squaring his shoulders. “We’ll make right over there and tell the concierge…” Then another thought hit him. “Wait, is concierge even the right word? Or would it be purser…” He rubbed his muzzle. “No, that would be a higher level staffer, I think. Perhaps a junior assistant purser?” He padded back and forth alongside his luggage cart, ignoring the confused stares of those in line. “It might be purser’s clerk, perhaps. Although…” He flicked his ears back. “We definitely heard someone else call him the concierge…”

The cheetah turned back, staring at the human. Rivi racked his memory, trying to recall if the human ever appeared agitated or annoyed at being called a concierge. Then again, had Rivi even called him that directly? He wasn’t sure. Sometimes he couldn’t remember exactly what word or phrase he’d spoken to who. After all, some of the verbiage used here was still new to Rivi, even with his extensive knowledge of world linguistics.

Rivi had been taught from birth to think and speak in not only his people’s native, archaic tongue, but also the modern languages spoken throughout the world’s centers of commerce and population. Over the last few generations, the Church’s leaders sought to modernize certain aspects of both their rulership, and of people’s lives. Ensuring that their members could easily converse with those from outside their borders was part of that effort. So too, Rivi imagined, was the Scholar’s Pilgrimage.

In school, Rivi had studied a great deal more languages as well. The cheetah always had a talent for words, both spoke and written. Nowadays he was fluent in a great many languages, both archaic and commonly used. Rivi was certain that was one of the reasons he was chosen for the Scholar’s Pilgrimage. Even the other scholars of his rank could scarcely claim to be able to conversate with nearly anyone they might encounter around the world. Rivi, however, could.

For whatever reasons, learning other languages was almost as natural for Rivi was his own breathing. Well, his normal breathing, anyway. Not his panicked panting when things went awry. In fact, even Rivi had not truly realized how talented he was with linguistics until he’d undertaken this journey. But the first time he found himself immersed by those speaking a language that was not his own, it was not long before Rivi too, was speaking it. Only when he realized that his usual mutterings and thoughts had switched from Elder Feline to Northern Canine did he realize exactly how fluent he was. Now, after many months of travel, he’d have to actually stop and think about just what language he was speaking at any given time.

“Actually,” Rivi said, pacing again. “We language are we speaking here?”

“Rivi?” Argos’s already-familiar voice spoke his name from nearby.

Rivimirous whirled around to the coyote, a big smile on his muzzle. “Hello, Mister Argos! How did things go?”

Argos held his hands up. “It’s just Argos, remember?”

“Right, of course.” Rivi clasped his hands. “Argos. Do you have any news, for good or for ill?”

“I got both.” Argos offered him back his ticketing information, and his identity booklet. “You want the good news, or the bad news?”

Rivi scrunched his muzzle as he took his things, his heart hammering. “The good news, please.”

“The good news.” Argos said, pointing at him. “A certain cheetah we both know won’t have to sleep on the floor. And you won’t have to worry about your stuff being stolen.”

Rivi gasped, clutching his documents to his chest. “Oh, thank the Divines!” Then he froze, blinking. “Wait, that’s the good news? Then what’s the bad? Oh, please don’t tell me I’m kicked off the ship, and spending the winter in an inn.”

Argos shook his head. “No, Cat, why would…nevermind. No, the bad news is that you’re gonna have to share a cabin with someone, and there’s only one bed in that cabin. Which means you’ll have to sleep on a sofa.”

“That’s it?” Rivi retrieved his document pouch with his free hand. Excitement swelled in cheetah’s chest. Fresh optimism blossomed inside him as he slipped his belongings inside his travel bag, then tucked it away in his coat. “That’s perfectly fine! Sure, it’s no first-class bed, but it’s leagues better than the hard, cold floor.” A smile started to curl across his muzzle, only for tempered caution to halt its progress. “Wait, is that all the bad news?” He buttoned his coat shut again, warding the swirling winter air that occasionally gusted in through the opening boarding doors. “Am I to be rooming with someone who dislikes felines?” Rivi crinkled up his muzzle. “Or holds a grudge against the Church of the Divine Weavers?”

“Neither,” said the coyote. Argos glanced away, and ran a hand back over his ears, smoothing them. “You’re gonna be rooming with me. Hope that’s okay.”

“With…” Rivi blinked. “You?”

“Try not to sound so excited about it.” Argos combed his fingers through the thick grey fur around his neck. “I ain’t thrilled about having to share my quarters, either. I was really looking forward to a nice, peaceful, relaxing trip, with a place all to myself. But…” He sighed, dropping his hand back down. “I couldn’t just throw you to the damn sharks in steerage. Not that there’s anything wrong with having to travel that way, mind you.” The coyote looked Rivi up and down. “You just ain’t got the fortitude for it. No offense.”

Rivi shook his head, his smile slowly returning. “None taken! I would readily admit I was vastly unprepared to attempt to spend the coming months huddled in the ship’s bowels, desperately attempting to protect my worldly possessions from the thronging hordes of ruffians and scalawags!”

Argos perked a single ear. “Ruffians and scalawags, huh? Well, I hate to break it to you, Cat. But you’re about to be stuck with someone who’s been called far worse things than that.”

“Oh, I don’t care what people call you!” Rivi chirped happy, feline laughter. “I’m delighted to room with you!” The cheetah fussed with his jacket, suddenly finding himself wanting to look presentable for his new bunkmate. “You’re a lifesaver! I mean…” He flicked his ears back. “You literally saved my life! And you’ve tolerated my inane babbling for at least five minutes, which might be a record for a stranger.”

“Delighted, huh?” The coyote crossed his arms. “Not the reaction I was expecting. You don’t really seem the sort to wanna spend a lot of time cooped up with someone like me.”

Rivi waved him off. “Oh, I’ve seen guns before. And any additional anxieties I might have about sharing a room with a secret policeman is ameliorated by just how nice you’ve been to me, already. I just…” The cheetah clasped his hands before himself. “I just hope I don’t prove too obnoxious a roommate myself! I promise, I’m tidy, and clean, and helpful, and…well, I’m clean, but perhaps I shouldn’t profess tidiness. I do sometimes strew my belongings about a little too much! But I swear, I’ll run a tighter ship for as long as we’re together. And I don’t think that I snore, but-”

“Rivi,” Argos said, forcefully enough to cut the cheetah off. “It’s alright. You don’t gotta sell me on your qualities as a cabin mate. It’s already done.”

“Oh, thank you, Argos!” Rivi tucked his arms across his belly, and bowed deeply, his spotted tail sticking straight out behind him. “Thank you! I’d shake your hand, or hug you, or whatever other rituals canines do, but I don’t have my gloves on, and I hardly know you…” He straightened back up, turning his hands over to look at his black pads. “Though on that note, I could hold your hand in gratitude again, if that helps. Pad to pad contact with a stranger twice in the same day is a stretch, but these are extenuating circumstances.” He held one of his hands out towards Argos. “Give me your hand, then.” Rivi glanced down at the ground. “Oh, do you think I should kneel?”

Argos stared at him, not moving. “Do I think you should kneel before me, and ceremoniously take my hand, in front of all these people?” Argos glanced at the long lines of people, a few of whom were already giving them odd looks. “No, Rivi, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“If you’re certain.” Rivi retracted his arm, still beaming. “There must be some way I can express my gratitude, though.” He glanced around, his eyes soon falling on the concierge’s desk. “Let me pay for the room!”

Argos shook his head. “Nuh uh. I ain’t making you pay for a suite-”

Rivi gasped. “You have a suite? How delightful!”

“Don’t get your hopes too high,” Argos said. “It’s more like a junior suite. Just the one bed, like I said. But it’s got a living area, and a private bathroom. Point is, it costs even more than your reservation, and I ain’t making you pay that kinda money just to sleep on a couch.”

“At least allow me to split it with you, then.” Rivi reached into his coat, starting to pull out his travel pouch. “I can hand you the funds-”

Argos stepped closer, lowering his voice to a harsh growl. “Keep your damn money tucked away. Ain’t you learned nothing?”

“Oh…r-right.” Chastised, Rivi put his pouch away, his ears drooping. “I already forgot. At least let me pay you half the costs later.”

“Look, Spots.” Argos held a hand up, his voice still soft. “If you really gotta know, I’m not even paying for the room. Iosa and me, we got special status here.”

Rivi’s voice dropped to an excited whisper. “Because you’re secret police?”

Argos made a face, his whole muzzle contorting. “Not exactly. But, something like that, I guess. Let’s just say, people like us got agrees with Black Star. The company lets us ride their ships for free, in nice cabins, without officially acknowledging our presence. And in return, we help reinforce their security team. If there’s any trouble on the ship, say a mutiny, or a hijacking, we’re expected to step in and help put a stop to it.”

Rivi clapped a hand to his muzzle, wide-eyed. He spread his fingers just enough for his whispers to slip free. “You are the secret police!”

Argos rolled his eyes. “We aren’t, Cat. We’re something else.”

Rivi’s voice picked up speed, excitement hurrying it along. “But that’s secret police behavior! Just like in the famous radio serial, Shadow Justice!”

The coyote made a dismissive grunt. “Shadow Justice is pure shlock.”

Rivi nearly bounced in excitement. “You know Shadow Justice? Ooh, do you listen? We could talk about it! Do you suppose the ship’s aerials are powerful enough to pick up the next broadcast in a few days?”

Argos rubbed his head, just between his ears. “Wait, you actually listen to that shit?”

“Yes!” This time, the cat really did bounce on his toes. “It’s so much fun, that I don’t even care how stupid it is!”

Shadow Justice, and other serials like it, were one of Rivi’s great guilty pleasures. The cheetah knew all too well they were big, broad, overwritten pieces of brain-rotting foolishness designed to elicit hoots and hollers from the masses. And yet, he found them so exciting and so entertaining that he didn’t even care. Now, to think that luck had thrust him into the company of a real agent of the secret police.

Argos chuckled. “Stupid is right. And it’s all wrong, anyway. They stole bits and pieces of reality from a couple agencies around the world, and they made the rest of it up. It’s just big, dumb, showy shit to entertain the easily amused.”

The cheetah kept his hand over his muzzle, speaking softly through his fingers. “Only a real secret policeman would be able to tell the difference! But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone your secret identity.”

The coyote snorted. “Gee, thanks, Spots.”

Rivi tilted his head, gradually uncovering his face. His voice remained hushed. “I’m assuming you don’t work for our secret police. They’re pretty strict about Church membership, but they do recruit a few outside agents. Although, you’d probably have to speak Elder Feline, so-”

“I suppose I could always learn to speak your people’s tongue,” Argos said, slipping into a near perfectly-accented rendition of the ancient feline language. “If I ever felt that studying something so archaic could be beneficial.”

Rivi’s jaw dropped. “You speak Elder Feline?”

Argos held his thumb and finger a short distance apart, dull claw tips nearly touching. “A little bit.” The coyote slipped back into the more commonly spoken local language. “Like I said, I’ve spent a little bit of time in your lands.”

“More than a little, I should think.” Rivi straightened his coat, smiling. “No wonder you pronounced my name right, earlier. You know, ironically, I was just thinking about linguistics, when you were with the concierge. Or…” He furrowed his brows. “Perhaps you can tell me. Is concierge the right word? Or is he purser? Junior Purser?”

The coyote only shrugged. “Fuck if I know. I always call them the concierge, and if I’ve been wrong, they haven’t corrected me.”

“I see.” Rivi rubbed the back of his hand. “I was racking my brain earlier, trying ascertain the proper term. And then I found myself wondering what language I’d been speaking lately.” He brightened, smiling at the coyote. “And then you arrived, before I’d come to a conclusion.”

Argos blinked at him. “You were wondering what language you were speaking?”

Rivi quickly nodded. “That’s correct! You see, I’m quite fluent in a number of them. Too fluent, in fact. When I’m immersed in one, it’s as if my brain rapidly adapts.” He tapped his temple. “Before long, I don’t even realize I’m speaking a foreign tongue, anymore. It just feels normal, to me. So sometimes it takes me a moment’s thought to remember what it is I’m speaking at any given time.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Argos lifted his ears, his sharp golden eyes widening. “Damn, Spots. That sounds helpful. I have to actively think about other languages to speak them.”

The cheetah smiled. “How many languages do you speak, Argos?”

The coyote only shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Not as many as you, I’m guessing. Now I kinda wish my brain worked like yours does. Might make it easier to pick a few more of them up.”

Rivi chuckled. “It’s a blessing and a curse, I suppose.” His tail flicked about. “Makes it easier to talk with people while I travel, but it also leads to awkward moments where I have to stop and ask people what language I’m speaking. They give me very strange looks. Oh!” He clapped his hands together. “Gilded! That’s what I’m speaking now. Tavosa’s an intercontinental travel hub after all, so course it’s Gilded.”

Argos smirked, watching him closely. “There’s one mystery solved.”

“Indeed.” Rivi glanced down at his boots, nudging his toe against the hardwood floor. “Do you know why they call it Gilded?” He looked up at the coyote, ears lifted, only to look away again just as quickly. “Of course you do.” Rivi turned, staring at his luggage. He must have sounded like a fool. “Everyone knows that. It was a dumb question.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Argos moved a little closer, resting a hand on the rail of Rivi’s luggage cart. “Assume I don’t know. Enlighten me, Spots.”

“Well…” Rivi ran his fingers back and forth against the name tag on one of his suitcases. “It’s short for The Gilded Familiar Tongue. A long, long time ago, after the world and cosmos alike were fractured, and the Divines wove existence back together…” Rivi waved his free hand in a grand gesture. “We were faced with new continents, and new peoples. And there was war, and conflict, and eventually, truces. And so, in the name of advancing peaceful interests, our ancestors began to develop a common language. It was intended for shared diplomatic meetings, banking, and trade, and so on. A commonly familiar language. It took bits and pieces of this and that, and then it modified them. Formalized them, so to speak. People thought it sounded as if they’d ‘gilded’ it. More and more of them started calling it the Gilded Familiar tongue. Eventually, it just became Gilded.”

To Rivi’s surprised delight, Argos listened intently to his every word. He leaned up against Rivi’s luggage cart, his ears swiveled forward and fixed on the cheetah’s voice. Only when Rivi had finished did Argos reply. “You got an awful lot of fancy, interesting knowledge in that brain, don’t you.”

The cheetah slowly turned back towards him. “Knowledge is about the only thing in my brain. Well, that and crippling anxiety.”

To Rivi’s unexpected delight, Argos actually laughed at his joke. “Nothing a good drink won’t help with. Shit, right about now, I imagine we could both use a stiff one.”

Rivi stared at him, tilting his head. “A stiff what?”

“A drink, Cat.” A suave sort of smile spread across the Coyote’s muzzle. “At least to start. After that, we’ll see. But a few too many drinks, and ain’t nothing gettin’ stiff anymore.”

Rivi wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, at first. But something about the way the coyote smiled at him warmed him far more than his coat ever had. He tried to match the easy-going way in which Argos leaned upon the cart, shifting his weight to rest against his piled suitcases. While he tried to parse what he assumed was some manner of dirty humored joke, he studied Argos’s smiling face.

The coyote’s eyes were a brilliant golden hue, a striking contrast to the light gray fur that covered most of his face. Sandy hues comprised the velvet looking fur of his pointed ears. It deepened to a darker tan across the back of Argos’s head, and down his neck. More tan fur marked the top of his muzzle, almost like a stripe that ran from beneath his eyes all the way to his black nose. His whiskers twitched on either side of it. Up close, and without the shackles of his earlier self-pity and sorrow, Rivi thought Argos to be especially handsome for a canine. Not that he would ever dare tell anyone so shameful and impure a thought had ever crossed his mind.

Then the joke clicked into his head, and Rivi burst into chirping giggles. “Oh, you’re saying that if you drink too much alcohol, you can no longer achieve…” He trailed off, giggling even harder. “I’m not used to bawdy humor!”

Argos only kept grinning at him. “That’s what I was saying. More or less.”

Rivi smiled back as his giggles faded. “You’re really quite…” Funny. Funny was the word Rivi meant to say. Funny was the word Rivi wanted to say. But it was not the word that actually came out of Rivi’s mouth. “Handsome.”

Argos blinked, his ears shooting up. “Oh yeah?” Somehow, the coyote kept smiling. “Well, thanks Spots. Can’t say a feline’s ever called me that, before.”

Horrified shock erupted deep inside Rivi, like a volcano spewing pour humiliation. His face burned beneath his fur, his ears flat against his head. “Funny!” He amended himself as quickly as he could, nearly babbling. “I meant funny! Not handsome! Funny, definitely funny! You’re definitely not handsome, who would say that?”

Argos canted his head, slowly twisting a single ear back. “Hopefully someone who thinks I’m handsome, I guess. So now you’re saying I’m ugly, instead?”

Rivi shook his head so hard and fast his neck ached. “N-no, not at all! I’m sure to a female, you’re handsome. But to me, a male, you’re just, uh…” Rivi’s mind whirled, searching for an excuse, for an escape from the self-laid snare he’d stepped in. “A fine modern gentleman, I am certain. With a great sense of humor!” As Rivi spoke, his voice rose higher in pitch, words tumbling off his tongue faster and faster until they collided with each other. “But, as a male, I’m certainly not qualified to judge your appearance by any metrics related to your attractiveness.”

“Oh, no?” Argos shrugged, his tail swishing. “That’s a shame. Guess it’s back to being a mangy old non-descript coyote, cause I sure as hell ain’t no gentlemen.”

Rivi cleared his throat, leaning a little harder against his luggage. “Well, I’m sure to the females, you’re incredible handsome. But, obviously, as a male, I can’t…” He licked his nose, his throat suddenly dry. “I shouldn’t, and…it wouldn’t be proper, and…say, do you know any more jokes?”

“Jokes?” Argos rubbed his chin, faking deep thought. “Well, I suppose the cruel tricks the universe constantly pulls upon us could be considered jokes. Of a sort.”

“That’s…” Rivi swallowed, taking a shaky breath. “Not really the sort of joke I had in mind.”

Argos chuckled. “That’s what made it a joke, Spots.” He tilted his head, his smile fading into something more serious. “Just to be clear, were a cheetah to call me handsome? I wouldn’t care what they got between their legs. I’d take it as a compliment, just the same.”

Rivi rubbed his face with both hands, wishing he could climb inside one of his suitcases and shut it around himself. He was absolute certain that Argos was only trying to make him feel better about his humiliating slip of the tongue. And yet, at least the coyote didn’t seem angry with him. Or worse, revulsed by him.

“In fact,” Argos said, his smile returning. “I might even tell that the cheetah they weren’t bad looking, themselves. Might even say they were kinda cute, with their giant spectacles and their nervous smile.”

Rivi bolted upright, nearly choking on his tongue. Something cracked in his brain. There was no way in all the Fractured World that he heard Argos correctly. He couldn’t recall anyone ever calling him cute, aside from his mother, when he was a little more than a kitten. Certainly no one had ever said to him in a way that suggested attractively, and doubly certain, no one male. He worked his muzzle in a slow, open and closed motion, like a dying fish gasping for oxygen. Rivi wanted to say something, to say anything. Yet no matter how his tongue grasped for words, it found only silence.

After several long, silence moments, Argos looked away, his smile slowly dissipating. This time, it did not so quickly return. “Sorry, Cat. Maybe that was too much. I know your people are…” He waved his hand. “Not as open, as mine. I didn’t mean to offend you, or make you uncomfortable, or nothing.”

Oh Divines, Rivi thought. Now he was making it worse. Do something, Rivi, he told himself. Say something. Don’t just stand there and let the person who saved us, think he’d offended us. This was our mistake, not his. Rivi continued to work his mouth in silence, while his mind screamed at him. Quick, you stupid cheetah, say something funny! Diffuse the tension! Make a joke and smile at him like he smiled at us!

Rivi forced himself to do just that. “So…” He leaned against his luggage again, resting his arm across the topmost suitcase in the most casual position he could think of. “Know any more dirty jokes…” Rivi knew that he should have stopped right there, and yet, somehow, the rest of what popped into his mind, also popped out of his muzzle. “About penile functions?”

Argos jerked his head back around in instant, staring at Rivi with wide eyes. “Do I know any jokes…” A barking sort of cackle erupted from the coyote. “About what?”

“S-sorry!” Rivi’s voice was an anxious squeak. “Just trying to break the tension. Dunno why I said anything about penises…” He sucked a breath, clapping a hand over his muzzle. Argos laughed harder, and Rivi slowly lowered his head. “I’m just gonna shut my muzzle, and lean against my luggage, and pretend I didn’t say-”

Rivi’s luggage collapsed out from under him, toppling off the cart. The cheetah gave a startled cry, falling over with it. He flopped down atop his scattered suitcases, sending some of them tumbling across the floor. A few cases bounced up against an unoccupied counter, while others tumbled into people in line, sending them dancing out of the way. Pain jolted through Rivi as he found himself staring at the ceiling. Sporadic laughter rang out from those in line. Out of the corners of his vision, he saw Iosa staring down at him, a worried expression on her muzzle.

In an instant, Argos was standing over him. The coyote’s ears were low. He offered Rivi his hand, his voice heavy with concern. “Rivi, you alright? You hurt?”

“Umm…” Rivi gave a low whimper. His back ached, and something throbbed inside him where he’d jarred one organ or another. But nothing felt injured. “My pride, mostly. Not that I had much to begin with.” He glanced at Argos’s hand, reached for it, then hesitated. “I…I don’t have my gloves on…” He stared at his own hand. “Though I suppose we did already touch pads…”

“You guys really take that contact thing seriously, huh?” Argos leaned down, reaching for Rivi’s coat. “How about I just lift you up by your coat and get it over with so you don’t have to agonize over it?”

Rivi nodded, and Argos grasped the front of his coat in both hands. He grunted, hauling Rivi back up to his feet. Rivi clutched at Argos’s arms in turn, but the coyote had no trouble lifting him. Argos nudged a few suitcases aside, making room for Rivi to stand. Rivi got his footing, and Argos released him, stepping back to give the cheetah some space.

“Th-thank you, Mister Argos.” Rivi dusted himself off. “I’m sorry about-”

“Hah!” A gnoll standing line called out. “You see that fucking cat fall over?” He reached down, picking up one of Rivi’s cases. “You think we can call finders, keepers?”

“You shut the fuck up!” Argos pivoted away from Rivi, stalking towards the significantly taller gnoll. “You stop laughin’ at him, and give him his shit back right now, or you ain’t gonna be worried about cabin space, cause you’ll be in the fuckin’ infirmary.” He tilted his head back, snarling up at the gnoll, his fangs bared. “You get me?”

“Y-yes, sir.” The gnoll hurried over and put Rivi’s suitcase back on the cart. “S-sorry, Cat.”

Argos glared at the gnoll all the way until he was back in line. Then he turned his simmering gaze on everyone else near one of Rivi’s cases. He pointed at them. “Pick ‘em up. Help your fellow traveler.”

The others glanced at each other, but no one seemed to dare deny Argos’s firm request. They picked the cases and brought them back to Rivi. Some of them put them on the cart, others on the ground near the cheetah. Then they shuffled back into line, not daring to meet Argos’s fiery glare.

“Th-thank you, everyone.” Rivi gave them a wave, but no one waved back.

Argos soon returned to the cheetah, and began to place Rivi’s remaining suitcases back on the cart. “Sorry, Rivi. I hope I didn’t embarrass you just now.” He glanced at the cheetah for a moment, before loading another case. “I probably overreacted. You just…” He flicked an ear back. “Some people oughta be laughed at, but you ain’t one of ‘em. You been through enough today.”

“It’s alright.” Rivi worked with the coyote, quickly restacking all his belongings. “Under other circumstances, I can admit, that probably would have been quite comical. Like…” He placed the camera case atop the stack. “Like something from a radio play.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Argos set one last bag alongside the rest. “I hope I didn’t make that gnoll piss himself.” He patted the case with Rivi’s photography equipment in it. “You wanna check these, and make sure they’re okay? That Colormaster’s awfully rare. And valuable.”

Rivi sucked in a breath. “You know about cameras?”

“Sure do,” Argos said. “Not exactly a hobby, but I do enjoy taking pictures.”

“Me too!” A smile quickly returned to Rivi’s muzzle. “Definitely a hobby of mine, but also, I’m required to document my travels as much as possible. Even so, not many people would recognize a Crystal Colormaster so easily.”

Argos idly patted the carrying case it was in. “I’ve used one, actually. On a job. Had to secure some photographic evidence, and color was important. Wasn’t my camera, but I did get to use it for a few days. Also got a long lecture about how valuable it was, and how if anything happened to it…” The coyote scrunched his muzzle. “It’d be coming out of my pay.”

“That would be quite the salary reduction.” Rivi made a face, one rounded ear flattened back. He flicked the latches open. “I guess I should check it. It’s probably fine, both the suitcase, and the camera’s case itself are hardened to protect against just such an accident.”

“Oh really?” Argos stood alongside the cheetah, his tail idly swishing. “I didn’t know they made anything designed to withstand a cheetah falling on them when he was trying to act casual.”

Rivi managed little more than self-conscious laugh, his other ear flattened back alongside its twin. “They may as well have been. I’m not exactly known for my gracefulness.” He opened armored travel bag. “I managed to drop this one down the stairs of a hotel, last week.” Rivi quickly examined its contents. As soon as Rivi was sure that everything was fine, he gave a little sigh of relief, and locked it shut again. “Thankfully, nothing damaged then, and nothing damaged now.”

“Down the stairs, huh?” Argos moved a few of the suitcases around. “Better your cameras than you, at least.” He tested the stability of the stacked luggage, then stepped back. “That’s about as stable as they’re gonna get. Just try not to lean against them, huh?”

The cheetah rubbed his muzzle, fighting a losing war against an embarrassed smile. “I”ll try to keep that in mind. Thank you for your help, Argos.” Rivi licked his nose, glancing at Argos’s palm pads, gray-black amidst the tan fur. “I’m sorry I was hesitate to take your hand, a moment ago. It’s just…” Rivi traced the outline of a ebony spot in his fur, ruffling it. “The intimacy of touching pads isn’t something we usually engage in with strangers. Our ritual earlier notwithstanding, of course. We do make exceptions as needed.”

Argos only shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. You gotta stand by your beliefs, right?”

Rivi straightened up. He gave up on battling against his smile, and it parted his muzzle so swiftly he half-feared his tongue would fall out. “Thank you, Argos! Most people outside the Church just tell me our ways are weird, or…” He rolled his eyes. “Or even prudish! Imagine that! Prudish, just because we don’t want to hold bare hands with strangers.”

Argos’s ears twitched. His lips curled, as if he too was fighting a smile. Or laughter. “Yeah, imagine that. Holding hands? Now, that’s just lascivious.”

The cheetah blinked, then scratched at his cheek. “Well, when you put it that way, it does sound a little prudish.”

“So?” Argos leaned up against the cart again. “Who cares? Ain’t their business, and it ain’t their place to judge for you it.”

Rivi tried to emulate the coyote’s casual posture again. This time, though, he made sure to lean his weight against the cart itself, and not the luggage stacked within it. “That’s very open minded of you.”

The coyote’s suave, disarming smile returned, his ears up. “I’m an open-minded person.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Rivi crossed his arms, attempting to look as nonchalant as Argos. “Just the same, I…” The cheetah swallowed, glancing away. Something still weighed on his mind. He’d slipped up, earlier, and though Argos had brushed it off with playful banter, Rivi knew he still owed the coyote an apology. “There’s something I need say to you.”

Argos tilted his head. “Oh yeah? Go on, then.”

Rivi pressed his hands together, hesitant. If he was to speak an apology, then he had to look at the coyote to deliver it with weight. It was important he face, and accept the coyote’s judgement, or forgiveness. “I’m sorry I called you handsome. It was weird, and improper. And I apologize.”

Argos flicked his tail once. The coyote gazed back at him, his blank expression betraying nothing. His voice was steady, and even. “That wasn’t improper. It was a compliment. You don’t gotta apologize for that.”

“Yes, I do.” Rivi wrung his hands his hands till his knuckles ached. His belly flipped over, twisting in on itself. He wanted to look anywhere but into Argos’s eyes. Hell, he wanted to pull his coat up over his head, and squeak out his muffled plea for forgiveness from inside the safe confines of the warm, woolen garment. But an apology was worth nothing, if the one proffering it lacked the courage and conviction required to look into the eyes of the offended. “I called you handsome, and…” Rivi swallowed. Each word spoken was a larger struggle than the last. He steeled himself, and forced himself to continue. “It was highly inappropriate, and improper. It was but a single, stray impure thought, that…” The cheetah took a shaking breath. “I did not even mean to acknowledge, let alone to speak aloud. So, I sincerely apologize. I hope that you can forgive-”

“Stop.” Argos held his hand up. The coyote’s voice was soft as silk, and yet somehow struck Rivi like a hammer to the heart. “Don’t you dare apologize for your thoughts. Not to me…” Argos shook his head. Something cold and hurt shone in his golden eyes. His ears drooped, just a little. “Not to anyone.” He stepped closer, reaching out to gently clasp Rivi’s upper arm. “You don’t ever need to ask forgiveness, for who you are. Not from me, not from your people, not from your Divines. Not from anyone.” He stared into Rivi’s eyes, urgency heating his words. “Anyone who thinks they ought to be entitled to forgive you, for being the person you were born to be?” Argos sneered, his fangs bared. “They ain’t worthy of your company, your time, or even a single, passing thought. You understand?”

Rivi worked his jaws, struggling to string together a reply. In the end, he only managed a single. “No?” Argos sighed, a strangely wounded sound that left Rivi’s heart aching for reasons he struggled to comprehend. It was as if all the things he feared would offend Argos hadn’t bothered him at all, only for his apology to prove itself a dagger in the coyote’s back. “I’m sorry,” Rivi said, his throat constricting till his voice was little more than a strangled mew. “I just…didn’t want you to think me…” He swallowed, his gaze finally falling away from Argos’s shining golden eyes. “Impure.”

Argos’s released Rivi’s arm. “I don’t think you’re anything, but who you are. And I sure as hell ain’t gonna think one iota less of you, for that.” The coyote held his hands up. “Look, Spots. I get it. I know how your people can be. You gotta keep some things locked up in here for your own safety.” He gently tapped Rivi’s head, between his ears. “But you need to understand something else, in here.” Argos lowered his hand, poking the coyote’s chest. “You are, who you are. And who you are, is exactly who you were meant to be. Doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. You don’t ever owe anyone an apology for being the person you were born to be. And they sure as hell don’t owe you no forgiveness. The only thing they owe you, Spots?” Argos flashed his teeth in a snarl. “Is acceptance. And if they ain’t offering you that, then fuck ‘em.”

All Rivi could do was stare at Argos in quiet, confused awe. In all his life, he had never felt so simultaneously exposed, and yet so understood. It was as if Argos could somehow peer through his layers of mental armor and apologies, to glimpse his darkest thoughts, to hear the whispering voices of impurity. And somehow, instead of shame, and disgrace, the coyote offered only…

Acceptance.

Rivi struggled to parse the very concept. He almost feared it was a trap, that the moment he agreed with Argos, or admitted to all the feelings he fought to deny even to himself, was the moment the coyote would call him out. Would shame him. Cast him aside, like he surely deserved, should he ever give into his improper feelings.

But there was no trap. Instead, Argos only turned away. His bushy, gray and tan tail brushed Rivi’s leg. “Come on, Spots. Ain’t gonna do you no good to stand there starin’ at me all slack-jawed. We may as well go get you settled into our cabin.” Argos grasped the handle of Rivi’s luggage cart, pulling it forward. “I’ll get your shit for you. Let’s go.”

And that was that. Rivi stared at Argos’s back for a few moments. A gnoll guard came over, and made a lane through the crowd to give Argos room to pull Rivi’s luggage. The coyote glanced over his shoulder to make sure Rivi was following him, then made his way through the teeming masses. Rivi hurried after him, still struggling to comprehend what just happened. A million thoughts swirled around in his head, stars wheeling about in a dark, confused sky. Many of them were terrifying. A few were oddly hopeful. But as Rivi squeezed through the crowd, trying to keep up with the coyote, his mind returned time and again to that single word.

Acceptance.

Rivi liked the sound of that.