"Eighteen contestants," River said, joining the group at the table. This time the otters had arrived early and claimed their same booth – a good thing, since the farmhouse was busier tonight. It was still plenty warm enough to drink comfortably outside, autumn not yet giving way to winter.
"And you've got three weeks,” Sam chimed in. She finished off her ka-pi with a mighty gulp, holding it up to catch the serving mouse’s attention. “The contest kicks off just after this year’s crop of children complete school, right before the social season really gets going."
Chip nodded, already thinking of what spices they could procure in three weeks. "Alright, and now we need to see if any of those are really good, because we only have to beat, what, most of them?"
"Ah! Well there's the winner and runner-up who will get a blast furnace each, but apparently there is also a crowd favorite who will get the third," Sam said. "One of the mice – the one in the corner furthest from the stairs? – favored to win with his sweet rolls. Each person who comes for the festival gets one chit that they can put in their favorite stand’s bucket, and at the end the stand with the most chits wins the crowd favorite."
Chip smoothed his whiskers, patiently waiting to hear if there was more.
"He makes sweet rolls, Fish-daddy," Sela said, leaning in. "They're exceptional."
"Hmmm. I wanted to keep the menu short so I wouldn't have to make that much,” Sam said, “but thinking about it now…"
River nodded. "There aren't many foxes proportionally, and there might not be many birds. If you intend to win the crowd favorite we'll need some real crowd pleasers, or something unfortunate to happen to the sweet rolls guy." She opened her beak in the raven equivalent of a grin.
"You keep saying things like that, and I'm going to call you unkindness," Sam said.
"You otters always mistake me for a Kindness. You know ravens do other things besides join the clergy or the cartel, right?"
Silence fell over the table. Patrons inside were cheering and clapping over a game of darts.
"The cartel?" said Sela.
"Ooops," River said. "Forget I said that."
"You can't just drop that into conversation and not expect follow-up questions, River," Chip pointed out.
"Well... you otters have your secrets, and we have ours. We all decided to leave the Aviary long ago and make our own path. I'm friendly with them because I'm a druid, but a lot of my friends back home? They'd disown me for associating with these birds." River sighed, tugging at her headband and giving it a wry glare. "Sometimes this is heavier than the weight of my family's expectations."
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
She pulled it off and showed it to the group. It was unremarkable save that it was worn.
“When you become a druid,” River said, “they make the apprentices and initiates wear these headbands to distinguish who is what. Grey is for the initiates, the new ones, and apprentices like me wear white to show that we’re out working for the community, but not yet done with our formal training.”
"If you're not really a friend to the rest of the Aviary, then why are you here?" Sam asked, accepting a new mug from the serving mouse with a chipper thanks.
"I'm here because I'm apprenticed to a mouse and she has me tending to sick mice, rabbits, and others who come to the Circle. The other day she had me meet a midwife to do an assessment of a mouse and see if she’d be able to carry a viable pregnancy," River said.
"Again, with the juicy details, River," Sela said.
The group giggled
"Well, if that's all we're missing, I'd say that we can actually all get together and have dinner with my family tomorrow," Chip said.
"Are you going to be introducing me already?" Sam asked. "I didn't know that we were an item yet?"
Chip blushed.
"I thought that we were going to be an item, fish daddy," Sela said, smirking at Sam.
Chip began sweating profusely.
"I… er... "
"Chip, you've got to be clear with what you want, otherwise strong otters like Sela won't join your raft," River said. "I’m always clear with potential rangers about what I wanted out of them."
The whole group turned to River. Chip sighed in relief.
"Do tell!" Sam said.
"Oh, yes, I am interested, especially since you wanted to weave a bond with me," Sela said.
"You offered to bond with Sela?" Chip said.
"This isn't about you, fish daddy," Sela said, raising his paw for effect, and frowning when he realized he was still clutching his mug. "This is about justice for all the hot wannabe rangers that apparently River made passes at. Let me guess, you wanted a ranger who would also be your boyfriend?"
For a moment, the raven looked like a red robin.
"I… never said that!" she said. "I just said that a raven can appreciate a strong, muscular otter."
"... in bed," Sam said. "You told me that a druid could appreciate a strong, muscular otter in –"
"Sam! That's inappropriate,” Chip said, then, “but hilarious if true. I thought that ravens couldn't mate with otters...?"
River looked around at the three of them, leaning in conspiratorially. “I’ll show you a secret,” she whispered, “if you swear to secrecy.”
The three otters nodded, eyes wide as if they'd been offered the juiciest fish steak.
River turned to Sam, inspecting her clothing.
"Sam, you're not cold. Lend me your cloak, I've got to shove off to the ladies room for a bit," River said, pausing to show off the ribbon tied around her neck. "Please note my black and blue bow."
She leveled a withering gaze at the otters before departing.
"What the heck was that all about?" Chip said.
"That's just probably a River thing," Sam said. "I'm not cold, obviously, but uh, can one of you boys lend me your cloak while River borrows mine?"
A wordless conversation between Chip and Sela saw Chip volunteer his cloak as Sam moved to snuggle in closer to him. He could get used to this.
Three minutes later, a sleek black otter exited the ladies’ room and sat down in River’s spot. She wore Sam’s cloak, and had a shiny dark bow tied around her neck.
"Now,” the otter said, “where were we?"