Don't Fall In! [Open!]

[Tracy]

Outside, the first hints of fall were in the air. Before it got too cold, a large group of the younger Long Patrollers was out in the woodlands just south of Salamandastron, enjoying a free afternoon. A brief walk inland there was a ditch, with a thick log laid across it. A heavy rain the day before had filled the ditch with mud. Basically, the perfect set-up.

A handful of young Long Patrollers had corralled some cadets for the popular game. The premise was simple; don’t fall off the log. Two hares approached from opposite sides and tried to push the other in. The weather was just crisp enough for the mud to be uncomfortably cold, but just warm enough for it all to still be fun. All about the clearing there were defeated hares covered in filth from head to foot, mostly cadets. Other hares were prancing about in their victory, and permeating it all were the constant taunts as hares called out their challenges.

Sitting on the bank, enjoying every bit of it, was Ripley.

Ripley had always been a quick healer. Although she’d spent the first day or two in enough pain to heed doctor’s orders, by the third day, nothing was going to stop the haremaid from being up and about. Mindful of the necessity for her foot to heal properly, she kept herself on crutches as much as possible for a couple days, but before the week was out, she was walking on the injured foot again. As expected, except for when she’d been taken against her will, the scout had not once returned to the infirmary. She cleaned the stitched-up area regularly, and swathed bandages around it so walking was comfortable. A week out, she was walking normally, and back to fairly regular exercise, even kickboxing. She wasn’t running though, and that was still a little frustrating.

Ripley hadn’t joined in a mud-battle yet, although it was endlessly tempting. Although she lacked the strength it usually took to win, Ripley had the balance of a gymnast, and that had secured her victory more than once in the past. Sitting on the bank, she had her knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. She taunted, cheered and jeered with the crowd, loving the spectacle. Well, if she couldn’t be on her scout assignment because of her foot, watching her comrades throw each other into mud was almost enough to make up for it.

[Stryker]

A busy schedule had kept the oldest Varilde from socializing too much, and frankly, he was feeling a bit suffocated by the strict atmosphere he'd endured during a particularly serious training session with Sergeant Miggory. The bounder's still got so much strength, even after all those seasons! Rubbing his tender jaw carefully, his mild injury was soon forgotten as his eyes fell upon the one creature who could possibly brighten up his day more than anyone else. Southpaw rubbed his chest, grinning like a fool for a few minutes as his heart did nervous, joyous little somersaults around his ribcage. "Now there's a gel to brighten a chap's mood, eh?"

His cheery voice filled the space between Ripley and himself, the energetic young hare at her side in an instant. It was at the same time that he arrived, however, that he remembered all about the rock, Doctor Evil, and Shirtless-Gel-Stealing-Cordin. Immediately concerned, it showed all over his face; "Are you okay Ripley? I heard about the rock -- nasty stuff, could've happened to anyone. I'm especially sorry to hear that yer flippin' doctor was that psychopath with the dead, staring eyes -- oh what a rotter! And I'm even MORE sorry that Cordin was the only one to help you in your time of need." He seemed to truly mean it, the fact that he hadn't been there when Ripley had been in pain and distress was probably eating him up inside.

Having the good sense to realize she wasn't participating in the mud-fighting due to her injury, Southpaw took a seat beside her, studying her face as though she might sustain another injury if he wasn't keeping his eyes on her all of the time.

[Tracy]

Ripley cheered and clapped along as a cadet managed to knock an older hare off the log, her praise drowned out in the uproarious celebration taking place on the bank between a small group of friends, all new recruits. The scout liked to see spirit and competitiveness in the regiment’s fresh blood. She had an intense pride in her Patrol and she wanted more beasts around that would give her a reason to have that pride. She eyed the young male, flush from his victory as a fresh batch of opponents scrambled for their chance to unseat the current champion. As they worked out the next round, her attention was drawn away by a familiar voice.

"Now there's a gel to brighten a chap's mood, eh?"

Ripley glanced up and offered Southpaw a quick smile in greeting, but was distracted again as another duel started up. Momentarily enthralled, her attention didn’t shift back to the boxing hare until he started speaking again.

"Are you okay Ripley? I heard about the rock -- nasty stuff, could've happened to anyone. I'm especially sorry to hear that yer flippin' doctor was that psychopath with the dead, staring eyes -- oh what a rotter! And I'm even MORE sorry that Cordin was the only one to help you in your time of need."

Her gaze followed Southpaw as he took a seat next to her. “Oh. No, I’m okay, thanks.” She stretched her leg out and showed the foot she’d wrapped in bandages. “Not even on crutches anymore. It wasn’t all that bad t’be honest.” Ripley had hurt herself worse plenty of times. She was always physically active with an adventurous streak to back it up. She frowned. “Only thing is I was s’posed to go on assignment the other day an’ well… that’s rotten luck.”

The haremaid pulled her leg back in against herself. She gave a little shrug. “The doctor is definitely a cracked nut, but at least he was there t’take care of it quick enough.” I guess. “Oh, no worries about Cordin, it was nice he was there. It was very good of him, an’ bein’ there to help me back w-“ Ripley tapered off a bit there. It wasn’t until the words were coming out of her mouth that she realized what she was saying to Southpaw. It hadn’t even occurred to her until that exact moment how the situation might have looked to an outsider, especially South. “It was nothin’ really,” she quickly added.

[Stryker]

The haremaid pulled her leg back in against herself. She gave a little shrug. “The doctor is definitely a cracked nut, but at least he was there t’take care of it quick enough.” I guess. “Oh, no worries about Cordin, it was nice he was there. It was very good of him, an’ bein’ there to help me back w-“ Ripley tapered off a bit there. It wasn’t until the words were coming out of her mouth that she realized what she was saying to Southpaw. It hadn’t even occurred to her until that exact moment how the situation might have looked to an outsider, especially South. “It was nothin’ really,” she quickly added.

Southpaw forced down the urge to look dismayed. "Glad 'e was there to help you, Princess." Yet for some reason those words sounded kind of hollow to him. Trying not to think about anything possibly happening between Cordin and the 'love of his life', Southpaw put on a jovial tone and stood up, taking a boxing stance.

"Since you can't go on a scoutin' assignment and wrestle in the mud with the rest of those bloomin' pigs, how about you and I spar a little? Even if yer footpaw's a little down-and-out, at least your other paws work, right Princess?" He grinned, lowering his arms to hold out a paw of invitation. "It'll be fun, and a lot more exciting than watchin' this lot. I'll even let you hit me a few times."

Love was certainly a funny thing, it was the kind of peculiarity that made Southpaw Varilde willingly get hit in a boxing match if it would make Ripley feel better. The idea of actually hitting him might not strike her fancy, but having the ability to let off some steam might. And besides, he'd better think of something quick, before Cordin the Helpful showed up again to further smite all of his chances with the beautiful haremaid in front of him.

[Tracy]

"Glad 'e was there to help you, Princess."

Ripley had to stop herself from sighing at Southpaw’s tone. What was she supposed to do? This was a difficult game to play sometimes; trying to be sensitive to the hare’s feelings without further leading him on. She watched him for a moment, only glancing away briefly at the loud, wet [i[smack[/i] of someone hitting the mud. Shouts of triumph rang out through the clearing again.

"Since you can't go on a scoutin' assignment and wrestle in the mud with the rest of those bloomin' pigs, how about you and I spar a little? Even if yer footpaw's a little down-and-out, at least your others paw, work right Princess?"

The haremaid looked at Southpaw’s offered paw hesitantly. With any other friend of hers, she would jump in without a second thought. She liked sparring – verbally and physically – and she was just a playful sort by nature. But she never knew what was too much for this hare. But he was trying so hard! And she really wanted something to do, besides. With one more glance at another battle taking place on the log, she caved. “All right,” she announced, and took the hare’s helping paw up.

"It'll be fun, and a lot more exciting than watchin' this lot. I'll even let you hit me a few times."

Ripley snorted, her competitive side taking over despite herself. “Oh you don’t have t’LET me do anythin’ South.” The haremaid was not strong and there were few creatures she could hurt with a punch, but she was nothing if not quick. She beckoned Southpaw back a bit. “Over here though, I’m not about t’fall into mud unless I get to play their game.”

[Romulus]

Cordin backed off the log triumphant as the cadet he'd been battling finally dropped into the mud. Laughing as his fellow hares clapped him on the back in congratulations, he helped the cadet out of the muck, offering an encouraging smile. The cadet, his fur normally a bright cream, was now a dull brown, but he returned the smile nonetheless.

"Don't take it personally, wot?" Cordin said, patting the cadet's arm. "Ye almost flippin' 'ad me there for a minute, y'know! Thought I was going to bloody well fall off three times, I did, wot?"

"Yore a brick, Corporal," the cadet said gratefully, glad that Cordin wasn't adding insult to injury. "Thanks, mate. But I'll bloomin' well get you yet, wot?" Cordin laughed again as the cadet gave him a friendly salute and scampered off clean himself up.

Cordin fixed the collar of his uniform, watching the next two competitors get set up. This was stupidly fun. He'd already beaten three cadets and one corporal like himself. How he had found entertainment in this was beyond him, but he didn't care. Wiping the mud off his paws, he glanced around the pack to see if there was anybeast to talk to. He wanted to duel again, but he'd have to wait behind the other eager hares in front of him. In other words, he had a few moments to kill.

His attention turned, quite by accident, to the embankment near the mud hole. There he noticed Southpaw Varilde and Ripley Contarelle. It seemed as if they were going to spar for a bit. Hmm, Cordin had never branded Ripley as a boxer, but perhaps Southpaw had offered to pass the time with her. It was no secret the oldest Varilde was smitten with the lady Ripley. Smiling to himself, Cordin ambled over in that direction, wanting to ask Ripley how her footpaw was. He'd been busy with training for awhile, and hadn't been able to check up on her since she'd been injured. It was only natural he wanted to see how she was doing.

"Salutations, Southpaw and Ripley," he greeted, hooking his thumbs into his belt. "How's yore ol' paw, Rip? Looks like it's healed up pretty blinkin' well, wot? And, South, it's good to see you." His tone was friendly, and his posture was non-threatening. He knew how defensive South could get over his feelings for Ripley. Best to make nice up front.

[Stryker]

Ripley snorted, her competitive side taking over despite herself. “Oh you don’t have t’LET me do anythin’ South.” The haremaid was not strong and there were few creatures she could hurt with a punch, but she was nothing if not quick. She beckoned Southpaw back a bit. “Over here though, I’m not about t’fall into mud unless I get to play their game.”

It wasn't long before the sparring match had begun, Southpaw's eyes lighting up as he ducked and weaved and swung back, careful not to hurt the pretty haremaid, his blows landing, but they were little more than taps, despite all that speed put behind them. Southpaw thought it was going well -- it was a nice chance for them to both just relax and enjoy one another's company -- until Cordin showed up.

Noticing the hare out of the corners of his eyes, Southpaw's head turned, and Ripley was able to land a stinging blow to his cheek, sending him backward in a surprised look. Wow, that had actually stung a little...

"Salutations, Southpaw and Ripley," he greeted, hooking his thumbs into his belt. "How's yore ol' paw, Rip? Looks like it's healed up pretty blinkin' well, wot? And, South, it's good to see you." His tone was friendly, and his posture was non-threatening. He knew how defensive South could get over his feelings for Ripley. Best to make nice up front.

"Good afternoon Cordin," said Southpaw, rubbing his face gingerly, not sure how he felt now that he was seeing Cordin face to face. It felt odd to suddenly...view him as something more of an acquaintance; they'd been friendly during their academy days, and had definitely hung out a few times, Cordin Dorchester was a good guy, clearly. But something just rubbed him the wrong way to think that Cordin had been there to sweep Ripley off her feet and be her knight-in-shinin'-flippin'-armor, as well as protect her from Doctor Death all in one hour! It didn't just upset him...it made him jealous as hell.

"Havin' a bit of fun with the mud wrestlin', Fuzzy Lizard? You didn't cry when any of the cadets whooped your flippin' scut, didja?" Southpaw teased lightly, but his playful nature didn't quite meet his eyes this time...

[Tracy]

Ripley was clearly enjoying herself. Certainly she wasn’t a boxer, and she wasn’t even quite as nimble on her feet as normal, but she was still had extremely sharp reflexes. It didn’t seem to bother her much that she was outrageously outmatched. The haremaid was adventurous and eager, and if it took a bit of a beating for her to learn something, that was fine by her.

She was so surprised when her paw made contact with Southpaw’s face that she actually leapt back and threw her paws over her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she said in high, quick squeak. She made a bit of a face when she saw the hare rub his face where she’d hit him. Turning to see what had distracted him, she saw Cordin and grimaced inwardly.

"How's yore ol' paw, Rip? Looks like it's healed up pretty blinkin' well, wot? And, South, it's good to see you."

“Oh, ah. Hi Cordin,” Ripley said, friendly enough, but she was sending a slightly nervous sideways glance to Southpaw. The haremaid hadn’t seen the corporal since he’d helped her, and had made a mental note to actually thank him for everything. That little tingle of guilt had gotten worse lately, the more she dwelled on it. But as she saw the less-than-thrilled look on South’s face, she figured she would have to put off her gratitude just a bit longer.

“Oh yes, footpaw’s almost all healed up, I think. Was goin’ t’go to the infirmary in the morning an’ see if the stitches could come out. Ready t’get back to running an’ all.”

Violet eyes switched back and forth between the two males a couple times. “So, what brings you out here, hm?” She smiled a little at Southpaw’s teasing, although she noted, if Cordin had been dueling, he’d been winning. He was far too clean for a loser.

[Romulus]

"Havin' a bit of fun with the mud wrestlin', Fuzzy Lizard? You didn't cry when any of the cadets whooped your flippin' scut, didja?" Southpaw teased lightly, but his playful nature didn't quite meet his eyes this time...

Cordin laughed, as well, giving a confused tilt of his head. "Um," he looked down at his pristine red uniform. "No, I didn't cry, actually. Didn't even get flippin' whooped, either." Was South . . . mad at him for some reason? He offered a paw to help the other hare back onto his feet.

“Oh yes, footpaw’s almost all healed up, I think. Was goin’ t’go to the infirmary in the morning an’ see if the stitches could come out. Ready t’get back to running an’ all.”

Cordin smiled. "Jolly good!" he replied. "I'd hate t' see our favorite blinkin' runner down for the flippin' season, wot? Nothin' keeps ye bloomin' down for long, does it, Rip?"

“So, what brings you out here, hm?”

"Oh, I 'ad a few moments to meself after that last blinkin' duel," he answered. "Thought I'd pop over an' see wot ye two were bloomin' well up to. Southpaw teachin' a private boxin' lesson?" He looked to the Varilde. "Ye could jolly well do that reg'larly, y'know. There's bloody few hares here better'n ye are." He meant that honestly. Cordin was a good boxer, but he knew Southpaw's skills surpassed his own by a good bit.

[Stryker]

Cordin smiled. "Jolly good!" he replied. "I'd hate t' see our favorite blinkin' runner down for the flippin' season, wot? Nothin' keeps ye bloomin' down for long, does it, Rip?"

A muscle in Southpaw's jaw twitched.
Our? Our? What gives, old chum?

"Oh, I 'ad a few moments to meself after that last blinkin' duel," he answered. "Thought I'd pop over an' see wot ye two were bloomin' well up to. Southpaw teachin' a private boxin' lesson?" He looked to the Varilde. "Ye could jolly well do that reg'larly, y'know. There's bloody few hares here better'n ye are." He meant that honestly. Cordin was a good boxer, but he knew Southpaw's skills surpassed his own by a good bit.

Southpaw felt uncomfortable after Cordin's honest compliment, the Varilde finding it a bit harder to dislike him when he truly meant him no harm. Still... He could very well have a crush on Ripley just like he did, and that made Cordin the enemy. Southpaw, frankly, was a bit surprised this hadn't happened sooner, Ripley being who she was and all. She was bound to turn a few heads wherever she went. "Haha, I always tell East we should open up a school for boxing, we'd have a regular old regiment of boxin' hares before you could say bob'n'weave!" He was trying very hard to be his polite, regular old self, but it was hard when he had so many questions.
Trying (and failing) to sound casual, Southpaw glanced from Ripley to Cordin.

"It was a good thing you were there to help 'er Cordin, otherwise her foot might've got infected. But there's somethin' that's been eatin' away at me, y'see," He tried to smile, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. "A couple'o'chaps at lunch told me you took yer shirt off? I'm -- I'm not upset, just curious. What'dja do a thing like for? To catch a bit of a breeze?"

((XD and here's Southpaw making life awkward.))

[Tracy]

Ripley seemed visibly relieved at the shift the conversation had taken. It had been really tactful of Cordin to mention Southpaw’s boxing skill and she was immensely grateful for it. She smiled a little as the Varilde hare went right along with it. Ripley was about to throw in her own compliments for Southpaw’s skill when she saw the awkward look that he passed between her and Cordin.

"It was a good thing you were there to help 'er Cordin, otherwise her foot might've got infected. But there's somethin' that's been eatin' away at me, y'see," He tried to smile, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. "A couple'o'chaps at lunch told me you took yer shirt off? I'm -- I'm not upset, just curious. What'dja do a thing like for? To catch a bit of a breeze?"

The haremaid slowly looked at Southpaw with the utmost disbelief. Perhaps she could’ve managed a reply to try and remedy the situation, but too many things were bothering her right now. First, what horrendously stupid creature on this mountain would TELL Southpaw that Cordin had been shirtless?! That was crazy – everyone knew how Southpaw felt about her. Speaking of everyone… who all had actually seen her being carried to the mountain? More than she had assumed, apparently. And that was humiliating. And finally, Cordin had taken his shirt off. To help her. And she hadn’t yet thanked him for something she’d hardly deserved.

An embarrassed flush crossed her face and she quickly turned, ostensibly to watch the next duel that was about to take place. “Oh, hey, look, the last two cadets who aren’t covered in mud are facin’ off.” Anything, anything, to change the topic of conversation.

[Romulus]

"It was a good thing you were there to help 'er Cordin, otherwise her foot might've got infected. But there's somethin' that's been eatin' away at me, y'see," He tried to smile, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. "A couple'o'chaps at lunch told me you took yer shirt off? I'm -- I'm not upset, just curious. What'dja do a thing like for? To catch a bit of a breeze?"

Cordin didn't even hear Ripley's desperate attempt to help the situation as he stared blankly at Southpaw for nearly half a minute. His face went red. How had that jolly little piece of information get spread? "I, uh, Black, y'see, he needed to use me shirt t' wipe poor Rip's paw, doncha know?" he stammered. "I weren't bein' bloomin' forward or anythin', jus' tryin' t' help th' gel out."

Oh, he sounded pathetic! "Black didn't 'ave any-blinkin'-thing t' stop th' bleedin' with, y'see, an' when he flippin' asked me outta th' blue for me shirt, I--" he bit his lip, not really liking the way South's eyes were practically glaring at him. "Well, I didn't jolly well want t' let Rip's footpaw keep bleedin', y'know." One ear fell to half mast as he glanced at Ripley, grimacing with embarrassment and rubbing the back of his neck. That moment had been just as uncomfortable for him as for her, no doubt.

Great, now Southpaw thought he had a thing for Ripley. There was no way he'd be getting out of this without something bad happening . . . to him. And it wasn't helping that his face was beet red!

[Stryker]

His face went red. How had that jolly little piece of information get spread? "I, uh, Black, y'see, he needed to use me shirt t' wipe poor Rip's paw, doncha know?" he stammered. "I weren't bein' bloomin' forward or anythin', jus' tryin' t' help th' gel out."

Oh, he sounded pathetic! "Black didn't 'ave any-blinkin'-thing t' stop th' bleedin' with, y'see, an' when he flippin' asked me outta th' blue for me shirt, I--" he bit his lip, not really liking the way South's eyes were practically glaring at him. "Well, I didn't jolly well want t' let Rip's footpaw keep bleedin', y'know." One ear fell to half mast as he glanced at Ripley, grimacing with embarrassment and rubbing the back of his neck. That moment had been just as uncomfortable for him as for her, no doubt.

Southpaw's heart sank. Oh Hell's Teeth, he's blushing! Why does it feel like I'm not getting the whole story? Or he's making excuses? I have a bad feeling about this... Feeling slightly sick to his stomach, Southpaw managed a weak smile, trying, with all his might to keep from throwing down the gauntlet and declaring war on the reddened Corporal.
"He's a...doctor but he didn't have anything to wipe up the blood? Doesn't that sound, well, bloomin' weird?" Said the Varilde slowly, glancing at Ripley, shocked to see that she was blushing too.
Well fan-bloody-tastic! Well don't let me stand between you two love birds, just do me a favor and DON'T invite me to the wedding!
He suddenly shook his head, trying to change the subject -- it had gotten too painful for him to really talk about it anymore.
"You know what? Never mind. I'm obviously spoiling your day Ripley, I'm sorry, and you too Cordin. If you took yer shirt off or not is none of my business." Even though his words were peaceful ones, Southpaw's paws had silently balled into fists.

Was he overreacting to all of this? Had it been an honest mistake? Was he assuming too much? No, of course not! When Ripley was involved...he was going to go to great lengths to prove that his feelings for her were quite real, and that included fighting off any potential young suiters looking to steal her away from him.
It looks as though Cordin had become one of them.

[Tracy]

Ripley turned back a bit, realizing that her attempt to distract them had been utterly pointless. How much more awkward could this situation get? And… why was Cordin blushing?! He’d been easy and tactful earlier, but now he was turning red and stuttering. Where had that come from? It wasn’t helping at all. She was a little nervous if the topic didn’t change, soon they would be the spectacle in this clearing. Southpaw needed to relax.

"You know what? Never mind. I'm obviously spoiling your day Ripley, I'm sorry, and you too Cordin. If you took yer shirt off or not is none of my business."

The runner watched Southpaw carefully. She heard his words, but they were belied by his fisted paws. The last thing Ripley wanted to do was hurt him. “Spoilin’ my day?” she repeated, as if the very idea of it was ridiculous. “I’ve been havin’ a just awful week with nothin’ t’do. It was good o’ you to come out here an’ keep me company and give me somethin’ fun to do.” Ripley was a pretty haremaid, but she knew the smile she could use to really push the fact home, and she aimed it straight at the boxing hare now.

Obviously nothing was going on between her and Cordin. Besides, the corporal was wrapped up with that crazy rabbitmaid. …The crazy rabbitmaid! “Oh, Cordin, did that rabb- er- Sola,” she had to force herself to say the name in a civil tone, “Get her weapon all fixed up yet?”

[Romulus]

"He's a...doctor but he didn't have anything to wipe up the blood? Doesn't that sound, well, bloomin' weird?" Said the Varilde slowly, glancing at Ripley, shocked to see that she was blushing too.

Cordin opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words came out. He wanted to slap himself. He was acting like an idiot! There was nothing going on between him and Ripley! Nothing! Absolutely nothing whatsoever! So why was he blushing like he was head over heels for her? Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his snout, trying to explain himself further.

"Look, South, I don't bloody well know how it flippin' sounds because Black is a crazed ol' bat," he gestured wildly with one paw as he went on, "An' I was too worried over Ripley to bloody notice how blinkin' weird it was at the time. All I flamin' knew was that Black wasn't bringin' out any-bloody-thing to wipe the bloomin' wound with! And I--"

"You know what? Never mind. I'm obviously spoiling your day Ripley, I'm sorry, and you too Cordin. If you took yer shirt off or not is none of my business."

"South, hang on a bloody moment," Cordin cried, fearing he was now on bad terms with the Varilde. "I don't want ye to flippin' think that I--"

“Oh, Cordin, did that rabb- er- Sola,” she had to force herself to say the name in a civil tone, “Get her weapon all fixed up yet?”

If it was possible for Cordin Fuzthrite Liztine Harlington Dorchester's face to get even redder, it did just then. He froze, halfway reaching for the departing Southpaw, his golden eyes wide as saucers. It took him seven tries exactly to get his voice working again.

"Uh, S-Sola?" he repeated, almost as if the name were foreign to him. "Oh, y-uh, n-no, uh, no, not yet." He snapped back into a more normal standing position, willing his face to stop turning so crimson. "Um, b-but almost, I think. Sh-she's, erm, jolly well packin' up her blinkin' bags, I dare say."

He wasn't sure if he was glad or just more embarrassed that Ripley had brought up Sola. He still liked the rabbit, sure, but he'd found out she was as old as the Badgerlord! Only a five-year difference between Cordin and the rabbit, but it somehow discouraged him from pursuing her further, especially since she was hell-bent on leaving the mountain.

[Stryker]

“Spoilin’ my day?” she repeated, as if the very idea of it was ridiculous. “I’ve been havin’ a just awful week with nothin’ t’do. It was good o’ you to come out here an’ keep me company and give me somethin’ fun to do.” Ripley was a pretty haremaid, but she knew the smile she could use to really push the fact home, and she aimed it straight at the boxing hare now.

Obviously nothing was going on between her and Cordin. Besides, the corporal was wrapped up with that crazy rabbitmaid. …The crazy rabbitmaid! “Oh, Cordin, did that rabb- er- Sola,” she had to force herself to say the name in a civil tone, “Get her weapon all fixed up yet?”

Southpaw, his attention successfully captured by Ripley, managed to smile at her words, believing them in a heartbeat. Had he really managed to help her out today? They did have fun with their fake sparing, didn't they? Even if she did finally strike him. At mention of Sola, however, Southpaw's demeanor changed completely, memory of Cordin's attachment to the fiesty rabbitmaid all rushing back to him.
That's right! Cordin had Sola to lust after! Perhaps he'd honestly been overreacting about this the whole time?

"Uh, S-Sola?" he repeated, almost as if the name were foreign to him. "Oh, y-uh, n-no, uh, no, not yet." He snapped back into a more normal standing position, willing his face to stop turning so crimson. "Um, b-but almost, I think. Sh-she's, erm, jolly well packin' up her blinkin' bags, I dare say."

AHA. That confirmed it. Southpaw let out a relieved laugh, immediately sympathizing with the hare who'd just been his enemy moments ago. "Sorry for bein' a cad earlier...I uh... well, get a bit...touchy whenever Ripley's involved, y'see. What's this about Soladeo leavin'? Where's she goin'? I thought she liked it here?" Somewhat dismayed, especially since Cordin seemed to have developed some affection for her.
Boy did Southpaw know a little thing or two about being in a one-sided relationship, but at least Ripley wasn't going anywhere -- not that he knew of -- and besides, even if she did somehow get whisked off somewhere either by voluntary action or by vermin, he had no choice but to trail after her like a little lost puppy. Sure he'd go home if she told him to, but he'd sulk the entire way and probably drown in a puddle of his own sorrowful tears.

[Romulus]

Southpaw let out a relieved laugh, immediately sympathizing with the hare who'd just been his enemy moments ago. "Sorry for bein' a cad earlier...I uh... well, get a bit...touchy whenever Ripley's involved, y'see. What's this about Soladeo leavin'? Where's she goin'? I thought she liked it here?" Somewhat dismayed, especially since Cordin seemed to have developed some affection for her.

"I, uh, dunno where she's blinkin' goin'," Cordin replied, his voice growing a little quieter. "She, ah, hehe, didn't bloody well like it here as much as she bloomin' well let on." He gave a wry chuckle. "No need t'be sorry, ol' chap." His golden eyes downcast, the corporal suddenly seemed to lose all vigor for a brief moment.

Inhaling deeply, Cordin pulled himself together. "It's nothing t'get jolly well upset over, wot?" He smiled. "Besides, I can still say a flippin' farewell b'fore she leaves, y'know. I dare say I, heh, won't easily forget 'er, though." Clearing his throat, he perked his ears back up. "But I digress. Glad to jolly well see ye two enjoyin' the bally day, wot?"

((Short, sorry.))

[Tracy]

Although Ripley's plan to draw Southpaw's ire off Cordin had worked, she hadn’t anticipated the corporal’s reaction. At first she thought she’d upset him because of the fact that Sola was about to leave, and had no intention of making a life around here. But that really wasn’t she was reading off the stammering hare.

Ripley fancied herself the most perceptive scout in the patrol, although she probably wasn’t far off the mark. But her initial assessment of Cordin had been completely off. The haremaid assumed the whole topic of him carrying her up to the mountain would come to issue with Southpaw, and she had expected Cordin to handle it differently. After his whole tongue-in-cheek routine with Azryel, and the cool confidence with which he handled her whole situation, she'd expected Cordin to approach this conversation with the same easy confidence. Instead, she was confronted with a blushing, stuttering hare that was completely at odds with the hare she'd seen earlier. She watched him as he spoke to Southpaw, wanting to figure him out.

"It's nothing t'get jolly well upset over, wot?" He smiled. "Besides, I can still say a flippin' farewell b'fore she leaves, y'know. I dare say I, heh, won't easily forget 'er, though."

Ripley looked at him strangely, but the expression dropped from her face before either of the others looked at her. It occurred to her that the sole haremaid in this trio was the one not struck stupid with romantic feelings. What was with everyone. Gods, she needed to get out of here for a bit, and was suddenly loath again not to be on her assignment.

"But I digress. Glad to jolly well see ye two enjoyin' the bally day, wot?"

Ripley’s ears tilted a little. "Aye, jus' wish I could play along." She nodded over at the two cadets still dueling. "That bigger lad is putting his weight forward in his offense. If the smaller chap ducked one hit quick enough and nudged the other's side, the bigger cadet would be in the mud in a second."

[Stryker]

Bollocks, why was I such a cad to him earlier? Feeling quite guilty for his earlier behavior, especially now that Cordin was obviously looking quite down and out over Sola's upcoming departure, Southpaw was going to put his best footpaw forward in cheering up his friend. "Cheer up boyo, there's plenty of pretty fish in the sea -- and you must be a real expert on the subject, considering you caught a flippin' shark! I reckon she liked you a little too much, eh Cordin?" Southpaw nudged him playfully, his ever-present grin returning. He leaned over and whisper/murmured to Ripley with a mischievous wink. "No other fish'll suit me 'cept you, Princess! No sharks or starfish or whatever else is floatin' about in that big ol' ocean out there."
He knew perfectly well that Ripley's feelings for him never seemed to stretch beyond the concern and compassion of a friend, but he was ever hopeful, and wasn't afraid to let her know that.

On one paw, he didn't want her to feel too burdened by his affection, so he tried to be as friend-like around her as possible, instead of potential boyfriend material, but he admittedly got the two confused sometimes. But hey, love was a tricky game, and even if he didn't know all the rules, he could at least try and be fair about it.

"Aye, jus' wish I could play along." She nodded over at the two cadets still dueling. "That bigger lad is putting his weight forward in his offense. If the smaller chap ducked one hit quick enough and nudged the other's side, the bigger cadet would be in the mud in a second."

"Good catch, yer right as rain, Rip, that big bucko's only winnin' cuz he's bearin' down on the other poor lad," observed Southpaw, studying the fight happening with renewed interest. Oh if he were there, he'd give 'em such a show they'd be composing ballads about his mud-wrestlin' skills for years to come. He'd be so famous, there'd be feasts held in his honor!
Well, maybe not, but a chap could dream, couldn't he?

[Romulus]

Cordin turned back to the mud duel curiously, glad the awkward conversation about . . . romance . . . was over. What had destroyed his normally confident demeanor he didn't know. Well, he didn't need to dwell on it. South didn't hate him anymore, that was a good thing. Cordin loathed conflict.

Covering his eyes with his paw, the corporal recognized the smaller of the two battling cadets as the one he'd just sent into the pit himself. "How'd the blighter get back t'the front of the bloody line so bally fast?" he muttered with a half-smile.

"Oh, aye, Rip," he said, a little louder. "That'un's a jolly sharp-witted bloke, wot? Name's, uh, Cade, I think. Almost bloomin' won against me, he did. The littler chap, I mean. Speedy little devil. Sure he'll bloody well figure it out soon."

Cordin and Ripley's predictions came true as Cade ducked what would have been the final blow in the duel and threw his shoulder against the bigger cadet's ribcage. The big bloke lost his footing and tumbled into the pit. Cordin found himself cheering with the crowd as Cade backed off the log in victory.

He turned back to South and Ripley with a wider smile. "Bloody smart, that one," he remarked. "I reckon he'll make a fine flippin' fighter, eh, wot?"