Dancing Bear (Open)

[T-Bone]

Victiore ran. The fox reacted. And the thieves' move was in motion.

The fox loosened his hold on Tobias, letting his paw stray toward the fleeing healer. Tobias took full advantage of this, pushing the knife up and away from himself as he made to duck. Jaroah lunged at the fox as though shot from a cannon. His left fist made contact with the fox's right shoulder whilst throwing the rest of his body weight into the fox's torso.

They struck the ground. The fox yelled out in pain, because Jaroah had managed to land on the fox's right arm, and a very distinctive cracking sound was heard. Without pause, the mouse jumped back up and began waylaying the verminbeast.

Meanwhile, Tobias glanced in the direction Victiore had run. She had taken the food, just as Jaroah had planned, but she was terribly unhappy with the thieves, which was unplanned. And that meant she would not soon come back to find them. But there was still a chance they could find her. She couldn't have got far, not with that bruise.

Tobias looked back at Jaroah, who was presently pummeling the fox like there was no tomorrow. He wondered how hard it would be for the fox to run with a hundred bruises.

"Jaroah," Tobias said sternly, to no avail. "Jaroah," he repeated. But the big mouse continued. "Jaroah!" Tobias shouted. Jaroah stopped, breathing heavily. Third time's a charm.

"What?" Jaroah asked, as though he were merely twiddling his thumbs.

Tobias pointed at the fox. "He's unconscious," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Jaroah, now standing, glanced down at the fox, who lay still. ". . . Oh. . ." He landed one more kick for good measure.

Tobias placed a paw on his head and shut his eyes tightly. Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus. "Okay. . . She went. . . that way, and she has all o' the supplies."

Jaroah nodded. "So, she's gotta be no more'n two miles from 'ere." He still felt bad about hurting her. It was an accident, sure, but if he had just looked a little closer. . . . Jaroah's eyes found the unconscious fox, then his own bloody paws. His eyes grew distant, and he fell still.

Tobias had been talking, but he stopped when he noticed the look on Jaroah's face. ". . . Jaroah. It's okay, he's not dead. . . Jaroah." Tobias sighed. Looked like he was on his own.

~~~~~~~~~

The illusionist trudged through the woods, choosing to search in the thickest of the thicket. After all, if he were in Victiore's place, that's where he would go to hide. . .

[Cross]

Victiore lay on her side, curled up in agony, gasping for breath. Tears spilled from her eyes, dampening her silky fur. If they were tears of anger, sadness, or pain, she couldn't tell. They were probably a result of all three. And why didn't she know more curse words?!

Clutching her throbbing side, she rolled onto her stomach. How had she let herself get tangled up in all this? Now some beast wanted her head, just for food she hadn't stolen, which was taken from a beast she didn't know, by two other beasts she didn't know who had lied to her, not to mention kicked her hard enough to cause this much pain.

One solid week of peace. Was that too much to ask? Closing her eyes, she yelped as another spasm seized up her ribs. Pushing herself back to her side, she kept her eyes and ears open to any signs of pursuit. Rustling alerted her of another presence. Still holding her side with one arm, she quickly dug out her silver knife from her bag, nearly contorting herself to do so. Footsteps padded closer, and she could just make out two hind paws stepping into the thicket where she had hid the food sack.

Judging by the size of the paws, she guessed it must be one of the mice, probably Braeson, or whatever his name really was. Clenching her teeth, she wished she had had the strength to run further from the thicket. There was no doubt he would find her in the next moment or so, even if she was a few yards away.

"Just take the food and go," she called out, her voice breaking. "It's in the dead tree." What did she care about stolen food? She'd saved their hides, so they might as well gather their spoils and be on their way. They didn't care about her, did they? No, she had been the failsafe. If the fox returned, let the dumb girl take the food to safety. Victiore had never felt this infuriated before, it almost frightened her.

[T-Bone]

"Just take the food and go," she called out, her voice breaking. "It's in the dead tree."

Sure enough, there it was. Tobias considered taking it and running. That was the usual routine, wasn't it? But he hesitated. Jaroah had really wanted to make this friendship thing work, but it had gone wrong. The one time he managed to gain the trust of somebeast who was not involved in a con, everything had gone wrong. It really seemed unfair to the big guy. Tobias sighed.

"Jaroah," he said, taking several steps toward her voice. He found her behind a bush and simply sat down nearby. "That's 'is name. It's Jaroah." It was an attempt to get her to talk to him. He would stay at eye-level, he would keep eye contact, and he would speak with what to him felt like sincerity. Tobias had fixed many a botched con this way, but this time was different. This time, he meant it. If not for Victiore, then for Jaroah.


((Short.))

[Cross]

"Jaroah," he said, taking several steps toward her voice. He found her behind a bush and simply sat down nearby. "That's 'is name. It's Jaroah."

Victiore closed her eyes, clutching her knife with a trembling paw. A tiny sob shook her shoulders as more tears trekked down her face. Now he was trying to fix it? Oh, so learning the big mouse's real name was supposed to solve everything? Not even an apology? What did she care about his name?

"Don't," she pleaded, opening her eyes. "Don't try to fix this." She gingerly pushed herself into a sitting position, grimacing in pain. "I don't care about his name, or your name, or either one of you." She bit her trembling lip, wiping her eyes.

"You lied to me, and you used me," she cried, her anger rising. "And like an idiot I went along with it. I thought that, for once in my travels, I'd met respectable mice who wouldn't try to . . . hurt me." Her voice broke over the last two words. "And now you want to make it all better? What did you honestly think would happen? That I would be a convenient tool that you could just use and throw away after you got your food?"

She didn't try to hide the sob this time, hugging herself as her bruise throbbed again. "Well, you got what you wanted, so-so just go, Braeson," she snapped. "Or whatever your real name is. I don't care. You've used me, so just let me be. You can tell Jaroah, or Tugg, or whatever you call him, that I just don't care. This isn't the first time I've been used, and I'm sure it won't be the last. You'd think two years of being left for dead and abused by beasts bigger than I am should have taught me something."

Letting out a frustrated groan, she turned away. "Just take the d*mned food and go, already," she repeated in scorn. "Isn't that what you wanted? Then take it and leave me alone."

[T-Bone]

"Just take the d*mned food and go, already," she repeated in scorn. "Isn't that what you wanted? Then take it and leave me alone."

Tobias nodded. "The answer to that question is yes. That is what I want. But it's not what Jaroah wants. If it weren't for him, you an' I would'a gone our separate ways, an' all you'd get from it is a bruise in your side. But Jaroah wanted t'be a goodbeast for once." He stopped, staring at the ground as he tried to figure out what to say.

Finally, he looked at Victiore, and this time, he spoke utterly sincerely. "Yes, we lied t'you, an' yes, we used you to escape. But Jaroah never meant t'hurt you. He's a grifter, a- an actor, y'know? The best there ever was, too. But you wouldn't trust 'im if you ever found out, so 'e did what 'e does best. He lied. An' if it wasn't for him, none of us would'a got outta this alive." He looked at her pointedly. "That fox doesn't leave witnesses."

Tobias glanced at the knife in her paw. Something told him she wasn't the sort of mouse to use it, so he relaxed a bit. He found himself studying her fur again. She really was a pretty mousemaid. And she was so kind and shy. He even liked her company. Tobias shook his head. No. She wasn't to be trusted. Nobeast was.

[Cross]

"Yes, we lied t'you, an' yes, we used you to escape. But Jaroah never meant t'hurt you. He's a grifter, a- an actor, y'know? The best there ever was, too. But you wouldn't trust 'im if you ever found out, so 'e did what 'e does best. He lied. An' if it wasn't for him, none of us would'a got outta this alive." He looked at her pointedly. "That fox doesn't leave witnesses."

Victiore dropped her gaze, fighting to control her anger. Two long years of misery, and tonight had been no different. "I get that you had to lie to save your hides," she said, shutting her eyes against the pain in her ribs. "I get it. It's what you do. It's how you survive. But do either of you even care how much it hurts others?"

She gripped her knife tightly as another tear slid down her cheek. No, she wouldn't use the blade. It was for defense. The only weapon she'd ever owned. It slipped from her grasp as she buried her face in her paws, curling her legs in. She liked Jaroah. He was funny and sweet and chivalrous and handsome. But she couldn't trust him anymore.

But did that mean she couldn't forgive him? Like Braeson said, Jaroah was just doing what he does best, to protect them, to make sure they would all get out alive. That she would get out alive. Maybe she didn't understand, but maybe she did. Looking back up at Braeson, she wiped her eyes one last time.

"Then what does he want?" she asked quietly.

[T-Bone]

"I get that you had to lie to save your hides," she said, shutting her eyes against the pain in her ribs. "I get it. It's what you do. It's how you survive. But do either of you even care how much it hurts others?"

In all honesty, Tobias didn't much care. He'd hurt so many beasts, by this point, it really didn't make much of a difference to what degree he irked somebeast. It was nothing new. Sure, it was unfair to the marks, but hey, life wasn't fair. What did he care?

"Just keep tellin' yourself that, Tobias," a voice in his head muttered.

Ignoring this, Tobias addressed Victiore. "Jaroah does," he argued, "He didn't want for any o' this t'happen."

"Then what does he want?" she asked quietly.

Tobias looked to the ground. He had to think about this for a moment. What did Jaroah want? Why was Tobias being so defensive about him? Was Jaroah, the lying thief, worth defending? . . .

Of course he was.

On one side of the spectrum, there was Tobias. The cold-hearted, analytical genius of a thief who couldn't care less what happened to his victims. Then, on the other side, there was Jaroah. As far as Tobias was concerned, Jaroah was the most talented grifter in all of Southsward, the smoothest pickpocket in all of Mossflower, and the deadliest brawler in all the world, but at the same time, Jaroah was the biggest softie on earth. What were the chances the best thief in the world had been born with a heart of gold?

The fact was, Jaroah was a thief by profession. But at heart, he was a gentlebeast with harmless intentions. He tried so hard to be good, to be liked, rather than scorned. It was what got them in this mess in the first place. It was the reason Jaroah was such a good actor -- he truly wanted to be the goodbeasts he portrayed.

Tobias nodded to himself, smiled in fondness of the big mouse, before finally replying. "He wants. . . I think he wants a friend."

The illusionist rose to his footpaws. "You don't have to ever talk to us again," he said, "but I just wanted you t'know -- the offer for dinner's still open." That last part was hard for a thief like Tobias to say. As he picked up the supplies and started back for the campsite, he glanced back at the pretty mousemaid.

Well. . . maybe not that hard. . .

[Cross]

"He wants. . . I think he wants a friend."

Victiore didn't reply. She wanted exactly the same thing. And two years ago, it may have been different. But constant running for her life had caused her to withdraw, to become shy. She wanted a friend, too, so badly it almost hurt. And Jaroah . . . well, Jaroah was the first mouse she had felt comfortable with since her family. She still wasn't sure about Braeson, or whoever he was.

But would it really be so hard to forgive Jaroah? He'd done it to protect her, and she hadn't been hurt beyond an accidental bruise. She was still angry about the lying, but she'd been lied to before. This cut deeper, though, because Jaroah was a mouse, just like her. Victiore had never branded mice as being this . . . low. Still, out in the wild, lonely woods of Mossflower, beggars couldn't be choosers.

"You don't have to ever talk to us again," he said, "but I just wanted you t'know -- the offer for dinner's still open."

As the mouse disappeared from sight, Victiore picked up her knife again, stowing it in her bag. She let out a ragged sigh, coming to a decision. Jaroah was a good mouse, despite his vocation. At least, that was what she was going to believe about him from now on. Was she this desperate for a friend? Yes, probably. But at least she knew what it would feel like if she were betrayed again. All she had to do was leave.

A cool night breeze ruffled her fur. She shrugged off her bag and located her oversized green jacket, tugging it on to ward against the chill. She winced as the bruise in her side protested the movement, but then she stood up, gathering her satchel and getting her bearings. The camp was back that way, not too far.

Taking a deep breath, she started walking. Twice she had second thoughts, and twice she almost turned away, but she pressed forward. Soon she was able to see a campfire between the trees, and she knew it was the mice's camp. Pausing, she placed a paw on a young sapling, just beyond the reach of the firelight. From where she stood, she could see both males. At the sight of Jaroah, part of her wanted to flee, and the other part wanted to join him, pretend it never happened.

Inhaling deeply, she walked into camp, bracing herself to face the two mice.

[T-Bone]

Tobias found the fox tied to a tree and Jaroah with his face buried in his paws. The big mouse had been lost in his thoughts for quite some time now, but he was awake enough now that, upon hearing Tobias' footfalls, he raised his head and quickly wiped his eyes. His eyes were red and his paws were wet, but he put on a cheerful smile. "Oh, you brought the food." It was as if nothing had happened.

Tobias shook his head. "Thinkin' about her?"

Jaroah's smile faded. He nodded distantly. Tobias could see in his bruised face that Jaroah was trying to push the thoughts away. Victiore wasn't the first mousemaid Jaroah had hurt. . .

"I'll make dinner," Jaroah said decisively. Tobias nodded. The burly mouse set about, preparing what would soon be a sizable meal. They had food to spare, after all. He was opening the fox's haversack when he noticed the blood on his paws. Some of it was his. Some of it wasn't. Without a word, he turned to wash his paws in the stream.

Tobias was the first to notice Victiore's presence. The firelight reflected off the fog, making it next to impossible to see beyond the camp. She stepped into the light, but Jaroah had his back turned. That changed when Tobias waved and said, "Victiore." Jaroah turned, saw her, and lit up, but the expression vanished almost as suddenly as it had appeared. He rose to his footpaws, not sure what to say -- which was a new experience for him.

"You-- I just wanted to-- It was a-- I, uh-- My name's not Tugg," he blurted. Immediately, he lowered his head. "I'm sorry. . ."

[Cross]

Victiore bit her lip as Jaroah's smile disappeared. She made to speak, but Jaroah beat her to it.

"You-- I just wanted to-- It was a-- I, uh-- My name's not Tugg," he blurted.

She nodded. "I know, Jaroah," she replied softly.

Immediately, he lowered his head. "I'm sorry. . ."

She nodded again, her ears perking up. "I know, Jaroah," she repeated. "I . . . I forgive you." He was genuine, that much was sure.

Setting her bag down, she walked up to him. Because of her small stature, she was easily able to catch his eye, even with his head downcast. "Listen, I don't like that you lied to me," she began gently. "Or that you used me, but . . . you really didn't want to hurt me. I can see that. So . . . I would really like it if we could be friends, Jaroah."

She took one of his big paws in hers, offering a smile. "Can we?"

[T-Bone]

Jaroah blinked. That was first time anybeast had offered him something like that. Then, suddenly and rather loudly, "Of course!" came flying out of his mouth. If it were possible, Jaroah would have exploded in a shower of lollipops and babies. "I'm gonna cook dinner," he announced.

And so he did. By the time the big mouse was finished, the sun would probably be up, but Tobias didn't have the heart to tell him. He was really preparing them breakfast. As he bustled about, he started chattering about this and that.

Tobias stood beside Victiore, half-smiling at his brother's antics. "He's a mess, ain't 'e? That's how 'e gets when 'e's happy." He crossed his arms and watched. "Doesn't happen often."

"So, Victiore, I was thinkin'," came Jaroah's voice, "you wanna hear about what me an' Tobias do? We're like thieves, right, but there's more to it than that. It's like-- er, wait, y'didn't answer yet. . ."

[Cross]

"Of course!" came flying out of his mouth.

Victiore giggled at his reaction. As Jaroah set about making dinner, the tattooed mouse couldn't help but feel the smallest bit giddy. She had just made a new friend. The first friend she had had in two years or longer. Her smile refused to leave her face as she sat down on a boulder near the fire.

"He's a mess, ain't 'e? That's how 'e gets when 'e's happy." He crossed his arms and watched. "Doesn't happen often."

"I know the feeling," she replied, crossing her legs as she perched on the rock. She let out a short, happy exhale. She couldn't remember the last time her emotions had gone this crazy. It was frightening and reassuring at the same time. It was a reminder that she was alive. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the bound fox, but she ignored him for the moment. He didn't look like he'd be bothering them anytime soon.

"So, Victiore, I was thinkin'," came Jaroah's voice, "you wanna hear about what me an' Tobias do? We're like thieves, right, but there's more to it than that. It's like-- er, wait, y'didn't answer yet. . ."

Victiore glanced at the mouse in the fedora. Tobias, eh? That name suited him better than Braeson. And she still vowed to find out what was physically wrong with him. It was something in his head. Headaches? Sinuses?

Well, she could worry about him later. She turned back to Jaroah with another giggle and replied, "I'd love to hear about it, Jaroah."

[T-Bone]

Jaroah gladly jumped right into his explanation. "Right, so, Tobias an' I are thieves, but we don't like usin' force. I mean, we're not great fighters, really. So, stealin' by muggin' beasts would, uh, limit our options. So, what we do is we convince beasts t'pract'lly give us their food." He cooked some fish over the open flame. He and Tobias were mice, which traditionally didn't eat meat, but that didn't mean the brothers didn't enjoy a good fish now and then. Jaroah continued. "So, usually, Tobias is the 'llusionist. He performs fur 'em, an' they give us food an' beds in return. But beasts are really mean most o' th'time, so we don't get anythin', 'r else they jus' give us a tiny portion o' food."

Tobias interrupted. "Aye, an' we usually steal from richbeasts."

"Right," Jaroah agreed, " 'cause they c'n afford it. Ah mean, not that it's always like that -- sometimes we 'ave t'steal from poorbeasts like us, but mos' o' th'time we don't. A-anyway, we start by figurrin' out ev'rything we can figurr out about the mark."

"That's Jaroah's job; he goes in an' gains their trust," Tobias added, "But he 'as t'find out what kind o' beast we're dealin' with before 'e can decide who 'e's gonna act like, so what 'e does is 'e meets 'em, talks to 'em a bit, an' while they're talkin', he puts together a, a. . . What's it c-- alias, that's it. But uh, he does it in the middle o' the conversation. It's really, really impressive."

Jaroah blushed a bit. "It-- It ain't that 'mpressive. T--Tobias does all the thinkin'. I go in an' get all the infurmation, I bring it to 'im, an' he can tell a whole bunch about 'em -- without even meetin' em! An' then, 'e makes a plan usin' what 'e knows. 'e's a genius."

Tobias shrugged like it was no big deal. "Aye, well, I've 'ad practice. Same's doin' magic."

"Oh, right! Uhh, magic. Tobias does that. Usually, he gets up an' does his magic fur ev'rybeast while I go an' steal things from 'em."

Tobias interrupted again. "That's an easy day."

Jaroah nodded. "Aye, sometimes beasts don't cooperate with us as much as we'd like 'em to. Like that guy," he pointed to the fox. "He was 'ard. But we got 'im. I went up an' 'ad t'act like a bad thief." He laughed. "That's easy -- y'just do whatever y'know not t'do, but pretend like it was on purpose, hahaha." Still focused entirely on the fish, he tried to explain the events of the past few days. "So, I met 'im, tried t'take 'is food by force. That didn't work, o' course, so I got t'look like the poor mouse in desperate need o' food. An' so 'e knew I wanted t'steal from 'im the whole time, but 'e still let me get away with it. It was easy. I leave 'im alone an' go talk t'Tobias, who figures it out in 'is sleep -- he does that a lot -- um, 'e figures it out in 'is sleep while I jus' try t'keep the fox awake all night."

"Jaroah's a light sleeper," Tobias added, "He can actually decide when 'e want t'wake up." He chuckled. "It's weird."

Jaroah folded his arms. "It ain't that--" he sighed, "I guess it kinda is. . . Anyway, so I go back t'the fox, an' I tell 'im there's another thief. An' that thief wants t'trick the fox into trustin' 'im too much 'round 'is food. So, Tobias shows up, an' the fox gets all suspicious about 'im. He gets up real close -- like this -- an' tries to get 'im to admit 'e's a thief."

Tobias pushed Jaroah away from him, laughing. "Haha, aye, kinda like that. See, he's really focused on me, makin' sure I wasn't acting."

Jaroah picked up. "An' the whole time, I'm stealin' all 'is food from behind 'is back."

Tobias picked up. "So when Jaroah leaves, I tell the fox that 'e's forgot about Jaroah. An' he turns around to find Jaroah, but that's the mistake I just told 'im 'e made."

Jaroah nodded, repeating the old rule. "Never turn your back to a thief."

"So, I kick 'im into the fire, an' we run away."

"Tobias calls that plan the 'Dancin' Bear.' " Jaroah added. " 'Cause of a dream 'e had 'r somethin'. Aaaan', food's done."

He distributed equal portions of the food he'd made to Tobias and Victiore. The burly thief was a surprisingly good cook. During the course of the conversation, he had managed to prepare a large fish, sprinkling on it some improvised spices, and a batch of what were essentially strawberry flans. He'd also set aside some bread and cheese, in case either Tobias or Victiore was not feeling up to eating the fish.

He took a small chunk of the cheese and put it on his own portion of fish, watching it melt before taking a bite. Turning to Victiore, he asked very suddenly. "You're not just a healer, are you?"

Tobias nearly choked on his food.

[Cross]

Victiore was riveted by the mice's explanation. She had always experienced thieves who tried to take her things by force. This illusionist-grifter method was ingenious. She had to admit, even though she didn't like the lying to others part, the mice had their careers cut out for them. They were obviously both good at what they did.

"That's amazing," she said, accepting the delicious-looking meal from Jaroah. "You're thieves with finesse." She giggled, taking a bite of fish. Though she didn't particularly like meat, she made an exception. Jaroah was an excellent cook.

Turning to Victiore, he asked very suddenly. "You're not just a healer, are you?"

Victiore's eyes went wide as saucers. She nearly dropped her food. A bright red blush colored her cheeks as her ears flattened back. "I, uh, n-no," she admitted. "No, I'm not. I'm . . ." She rubbed the back of her neck, dropping her gaze. "I'm a . . . _witch." It wasn't a secret so much as she feared they might laugh at her.

[T-Bone]

". . . A what?" Jaroah asked.

"She said 'a witch,' " Tobias told him, still not entirely sure what to think of that.
". . . So. . . You, uh, cast spells an' stuff?"

"Turn beasts into frogs?" Jaroah offered.

"Make love potions?"

"Fly around on a broomstick?"

"Lure children into a gingerbread house and eat them?"

"Tobias, that's insensitive."

"I know! Poor children."

Jaroah turned to the witch. "Victiore, I'm sorry fur. . ." He gestured to Tobias.
". . . that." The illusionist laughed. "But really," the burly mouse continued, "What do witches do, exactly?"

In all honesty, Tobias was rather interested. But it was late, and he was getting slap-happy. Besides, he'd just had a knife held to his throat twice in less than three hours. He deserved a little break from common courtesy. And so it was with a smug grin that he adjusted his hat and listened to Victiore.


((...I apologize, internet, for the existence of this. XD))

[Cross]

". . . So. . . You, uh, cast spells an' stuff?"

"Well, um, sort of. I--" Victiore began.

"Turn beasts into frogs?"

"No, no, I don't--"

"Make love potions?"

"I've, uh, tried once, but I couldn't--"

"Fly around on a broomstick?"

That one earned a little smile. "Oh, no, I--"

"Lure children into a gingerbread house and eat them?"

"No, of course not!" Victiore was blushing even brighter now. As Jaroah chided Tobias, the tattooed mouse was regretting even mentioning it. "I'm not a--"

"But really," the burly mouse continued, "What do witches do, exactly?"

"W-well," she paused, fearing being interrupted again. But both mice had seemed to settle down for the moment. Although Tobias's grin concerned her. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "I do write spells, and I have attempted to make a love potion before. Mostly I just try to figure out which plants will have what effect on a creature, and if a certain . . . incantation will, uh, add potency to the, um, elixirs. But . . . none of that has ever really worked for me. At-at least not after I started traveling." Not to mention she developed a habit of talking to plants.

She sighed. "So, yes, I'm a witch, but I'm not a very good one. I suppose you could say I'm a decent healer and poet."

[T-Bone]

As Victiore told them about the love potion, Tobias and Jaroah exchanged glances. This sort of thing was completely foreign to them. Tobias dealt with magic, but it was all sleight of paw. Neither was quite sure what to think of a beast who genuinely believed in magic.

"So, yes, I'm a witch, but I'm not a very good one. I suppose you could say I'm a decent healer and poet."

Jaroah nodded. "Ohh, a poet, aye? Tobias used to write poems, afore, didn't y--" He glanced over to find Tobias' eyes closed. He'd fallen asleep sitting up.
". . . Nevermind," Jaroah chuckled. Tobias' ability to fall asleep at any given time never ceased to amaze him.

The big mouse, still smiling, turned to Victiore, speaking in a softer voice. "So, uh, what kind o' poems you write?"

((Short.))

[Cross]

Victiore looked over at Tobias in astonishment. He was asleep! But he was still sitting up. He must be exhausted to fall asleep in a position like that. Her attention was drawn back to Jaroah when he asked, "So, uh, what kind o' poems you write?"

Victiore's blush refused to leave her face. "Well, they're . . . supposed to be spells," she admitted sheepishly. "I just . . . they don't normally . . . work like they're supposed to, so then I just say they're poems." She flicked her tail once. "I'll write about anything, really. Trees, butterflies, traveling . . ."

She couldn't tell if Jaroah was just humoring her at this point, since her vocation sounded more and more pathetic as she went on. Fidgeting uneasily, she took another bite of fish. She was so embarrassed! But at least it was the truth. The thieves had shared the truth with her, so she would do the same. Besides, friends didn't lie to each other.

((Yeah, mine's short, too.))

[T-Bone]

Victiore's blush refused to leave her face. "Well, they're . . . supposed to be spells," she admitted sheepishly. "I just . . . they don't normally . . . work like they're supposed to, so then I just say they're poems." She flicked her tail once. "I'll write about anything, really. Trees, butterflies, traveling . . ."

In fact, Jaroah was humoring her, to a point. At the same time, he was curious about. . . witchery? Whatever you call it. Was it even something goodbeasts did? Was Victiore a criminal too?

He scratched his head. "Does it work? The magic, I mean." By the sound of it, the spells were essentially useless, and Jaroah wondered if the witchcraft -- that was the word! -- served any practical purpose. " You ever get anythin' done with it?"

Magic of Tobias' sort had proven serviceable in the past. Sleight of paw was a skill that Tobias implemented in every aspect of his work. He performed with it, he escaped with it, he fought with it; he had even based several cons on the very premise. But Victiore's magic seemed an entirely different matter, and Jaroah wasn't sure that much havoc could be wreaked with it. . . Not that havoc was a good thing!

[Cross]

"Does it work? The magic, I mean."

"Um, on occasion," Victiore replied. She remembered the leaf growing on the dead tree. That had been because of her spells. It had to be. But that weasel's voice had helped it along. And the other time when she had gotten her knife to point north as a makeshift compass. Nothing else but her knife and a spell.

"Once or twice," she said. "It, uh, helps if the spell is read aloud by some beast else. Sometimes I can get it to work on my own, but . . ." She rubbed the back of her head, looking aside. "I'm just not good with real magic. I used to be." Well, she had completed her training somehow, right? But the few tricks she could do now were pretty useless, besides that compass spell.

"I'm better off sticking to writing and drawing," she murmured, eating some more of her fish. She had been told she was a pretty good artist. But she really was a failure as a witch. Why couldn't she be more like her mentor?