A Chat and Beer on Tap [Open for Anyone]

[Kaylii]

"Raaaaahn. Let's stop. Pleaaaase. My hooves are murdering me." The moan that came after the camel's words made the man cringe, his shoulder rising as though to try and shield his ears from the annoying sound. He turned his chocolate colored eyes to the side in a glare towards the animal.
"You do know, Malik, that a camel can walk for days? Much, much longer than me." The camel snorted.
"Yeah. What about it?"
"If that's the case, why the hell are you the one complaining?"

This interaction was not unusual between the camel and the rouge. After going through forest and cities together for weeks with nothing else to do, bickering was natural between anyone, even human and beast. Unfortunately, Rahn was beginning to lose his patience. Even at the best of times he could only tolerate the bactrian's whining with a twitch of an eye and a hum in his brain. Now, with hunger aching in him and a gnawing feeling to get as far away from the pestering creature, Malik looked more like a talking meal than a good friend. The camel though senses the danger of the short temper the man had and didn't go further in his complaint. Messing with Rahn was fun and all, but he knew his limits.

Fortunately, the pub in The Black Dog was not far from them. The smell of food reached the nostrils of both of them. They had plenty of money for food, and Rahn had enough for lodging himself and the bags they brought with them. Malik may not care about needing a roof over his head while sleeping, but the luxury for a bed was too irresistable for the wanderer. He nodded his head towards the camel and picked up the pace. The four legged animal though didn't find this too pleasing at all and began his ranting once again, bellowing and groaning between words. It didn't long before Rahn got sick of it, then a bellow rang through the air as he smacked the camel upside the head to get him to quiet.

Nearing closer to the building, Malik paused so Rahn could take a couple of the bags off his back, but not before grabbing one of the bags of feed for the animal. He set it down and promised his friend to be back soon to update him, then set towards the inn, heaving a packback on and carrying another by his side. He had removed the cloth from his face and the hood from his head, revealing a disheveled grumpy man of long mussed black and grey hair and short beard. He hadn't shaved in a while. It'd be nice to get to do that again.

He came inside and went straight to the bar, ordering a drink and food, and a room for the night, then headed towards a table. He plunked his stuff down on a spare chair, joining its partner afterwards, and took a gulp of his beer while looking towards the others that already inhabited the building. Perhaps someone here would require his services.. Just depended on what way.

[finch]

Keavy refused to stop. Not until she reached the Black Dog.

“It’s an easy day’s travel from here,” her mother had said. That was seventeen hours ago. Seven hours of climbing up and down the rocky shoulders of the Vanguard mountains, skirting gapping chasms and negotiating slippery shale slopes. Four hours of travel through treacherous, tangled forest, unseen obstacles lurking in the dim green shadows. Six hours of trekking down a rutted, barely-visible road through the middle of nowhere. And, after that, Keavy still couldn’t see the inn anywhere. A day’s easy travel indeed! Still, she refused to fail. She marched on west, jaw clenched in grim determination. He tail, dragging limply behind her through the dust of the road, was the only visible sign of her exhaustion.

When the faint aroma of food first reached her nostrils, Keavy froze. She sniffed. Her tail perked up, and a triumphant smile slowly spread across her dirt-smeared face. Mmmmm. The sweet smell of victory. Or beef. She like both, really, and set off down the road with new gusto.

She crested the final hill and found herself looking down at the inn, a darker shadow in the dim half-light of evening, golden light pouring from every window. Her stomach growled in anticipation.

Unfortunately, Keavy did not have any food with her, or money to buy food with. Most parents, when sending their youngest, smallest, and weakest offspring off into the wide, wide world ply said offspring with more food, money, and advice than could possibly be needed. However, Keavy’s parents kicked her out of their cabin at three o'clock in the morning with only an empty canteen and the dubious advice, “It’s an easy day’s travel from here.” Obviously, Keavy thought to herself, her smile widening, they know I don’t need any help.

Anyway, she had already spotted her meal ticket: an unattended… horse? No. No way a horse could be that shape and survive, let along stand up. What the hell was that thing? Fascinated— and, admittedly, hungry— Keavy started down the hill as quietly as she could, which, considering her history of burglary and general sneakiness, was pretty quietly. Maybe, she mused as she crept closer to the animal, it was a Snerf who had experienced some sort of industrial accident, or the Grey Waste version of a horse. Her sister had once described a creature called a “giraffe” to her. That was it, she decided as she reached the creature, it was a giraffe. A big, stinky, ugly giraffe.

Oh well. She’d eaten worse.

Keavy couldn’t see reins or a lead anywhere, so she reached up for a handful of the long fur on the giraffe’s neck to give it a tug. “Come on, giraffe. Come with Keavy. God, you smell like a sweaty sock.” Keavy’s brilliant plan: take the “giraffe” somewhere more isolated, check if it was carrying anything valuable she could exchange at the inn for food and a room, and, if not, decide whether she really wanted to attempt to eat something that looked and smelled like soiled carpet.

Honestly, Keavy shouldn’t have been criticizing Malik’s smell. She herself wasn’t too fragrant after a long day’s journey. Dust, mud, and worse caked her boots and her dark-colored, practical traveling clothes clung damply to her body. The dark hair that escaped from underneath her ragged, once-purple fedora— stolen off the head of a young merchant years before— stuck out in every direction. Keavy, however, didn’t notice her own looks. She did not come from a family that cared much for appearances.

[Kaylii]

Of course Malik was going to be stuck outside, like any other animal. Why should he ever be allowed inside, like a paying customer? Rahn wasn't the only owner of the money they traveled with. Making a face, he watched the human take the quick feed for the camel with distaste as it was set on the ground, and fought the urge to spit at him as he went inside to the inn. He never really cared about this sort of thing honestly. Why would a camel want to sleep on a bed when it was so much more comfortable on stable ground? It was the fact Rahn never bothers to ask if he would want to join in on the fun. So insulting.

As if this couldn't be the most insulting thing of his day. Here he was, minding his own business, eating the feed as bland as it could possibly be, still carrying clothes and dried food for their travels, someone had to decided to yank on the camel. As if he were a damn petting zoo. He had just taken a large gulp of the oats when a hand grabbed a fistful of his fur, his head yanking up in surprise with a large moan of irritation. He looked back, mouth open to give whoever this brat was a piece of his mind, when he heard one of the most insulting things in his life. His lashes spread wide to show his bright golden brown eyes.

"Giraffe?!" He stuttered out, a bit of oat flying out towards the girl. "You honestly mistook me for one of those overgrown horses?! What the hell are you playing at, you scarred up smelly spawn!" Tempers were common for the camel. Malik would have easily gotten mad if she had even simply called him an animal, but honestly. How hard was it to figure out camels were the only things sprouting humps like his on his back? Downright preposterous this was!

Rahn on the other hand was enjoying his time drinking something wasn't stale water that had been baking in the heat all day. It had been a while since he had some beer, and was already almost finished with his first pint when he heard the large bellow Malik made. It wasn't that hard to miss. Camels were pretty darn loud. They loved being heard and recognized in any crowd, big or small. At first he ignored the cry, thinking it was just the bactrian having yet another hissy fit over the fact he was inside and the animal was outside, but then he heard shouting from his friend. He put his drink down immediately and stood, listening to try and understand why the camel was shouting.

It only took him a few seconds before he headed straight towards the door, grabbing the handle of his short sword as he pushed the door open to see the weirdest sight.

Was a boy or a girl? The hair was insanely short, but the kid was too small to be a boy. But still, it was all scarred up. He could tell that even from here. It didn't take long though before realizing it was the reason why Malik was giving off an earfull, and withdrew his sword.

'"Tha' hell you doin' with Malik, kid?" He bellowed, a bit of the beer making some of his speech slurred. He had already been a bit dehydrated and he hadn't had beer in a while. But still, it would't stop him from smacking the brat around if he did anything to the camel, annoying it was.

[finch]

”Giraffe?!”

The suddenness of the camel’s shout startled Keavy: she released his hair, stumbled back in surprise, tripped over some invisible obstacle in the evening gloom, and then sat down with a oomp in the dust. Wide-eyed, she stared up at the big animal as he continued his rant. Then, gradually, her shock faded and a wide, wicked smile spread once again across her face. The giraffe—er, camel, of course, she’d suspected it all along— was angry, but he was angry about all the wrong things. Her obvious intent to kidnap him? Unimportant! The fact that she had mistaken him for a dumb beast? Irrelevant! Her comparison between him and a sweaty sock? Trivial! But misjudging his species? Unforgivable! Off with her head!

Now, if she could just keep him focused on the insults and not the failed larceny…

Keavy brushed a chunk of soggy oat off her cheek and leaned back where she sat, her arms spread behind her for balance. She grinned up at the camel. Angry people— Folk too, she assumed— didn’t usually appreciate seeing the targets of their anger happy, and Keavy liked irritating angry people. Well, honestly, Keavy just liked irritating people; it brought back fond childhood memories. “How the hell am I supposed to tell one flavor of overgrown horse from another?” she shouted cheerfully back up at the camel, “It’s not like I see one of you lice-infested bastards on every corner! Thank god, too, or we’d all have to wear masks everywhere to deal with the stench, you mangy, hunchbacked—”

At that moment, the owner of the mangy, hunchbacked, the-world- tragically-may-never-know-the-rest pushed open the door of the inn. He stared at Keavy for a moment. Keavy stared back. A lifetime’s experience in sizing up potential victims told Keavy two things: the man was slightly drunk, and the man was dangerous anyway. Keavy exchanged her smile for a snarl that drew her lips back from her teeth, a habit she’d picked up from her brother. It looked much more impressive when he did it, considering his mouth would make a shark jealous; every tooth Keavy had ever knocked out during their sparring matches lined the chain she wore around her waist.

The camel’s owner drew his sword. Keavy sprang to her feet and drew the short dagger at her waist in one fluid, oft-practiced motion. She held her ground, feet planted firmly in the dirt, and glared at the man. Every line of her body, from the square set of her shoulders to the way she seemed to look down at Rahn even from below him, screamed “back off.” “I didn’t do nothing to your flea-bitten monster!” she snapped, “And I’m not afraid of you, grampa! Go back to your drink or go find a barber!” In Keavy’s mind, it didn’t matter that Rahn was stronger, more experienced, better armed, and, let’s face it, had better judgment even while tipsy. Nobody threatened Keavimiera Kestrel!

Her stomach growled. Loudly. “And you can just shut up too!” she snarled at it.

[Kaylii]

There was some satisfaction in the fact this little human fell on its rump in obvous surprise, but he was far too insulted to laugh at the hilarious embarassment. She opened her mouth and carried on more to add to this little scrutiny, and Malik was beginning to feel the urge to simply spit in her face, his teeth grinding as he tried to fight back the want. It was something his species did naturally, but part of him found the idea repulsing.. Even so, if it would get this girl to shut up, he could always do it and have his disgust later while bathing in her horror now. Yeahh that sounded like a good idea.

Until Rahn popped in that is. Hearing his voice the camel immediately turned his head towards his companion with a growl in his throat. Obviously the rouge heard his temper flaring from inside the inn but honestly. It didn't require his interruption. The bactrian was doing quite well on his own hooves in this rather displeasing situation. That is, until the sword was drawn. The camel took a step back in surprise.

A girl then, Rahn decided. Judging but its voice it was either a girl, or a boy who hadn't gone through puberty yet. He hoped it was a girl. They weren't as whiney as young boys could be, not that either ever got on his good side. Like now. His eyes narrowed as she called him a grampa, taking a step towards her despite better judgement. Why he outta.....

Then her stomach growled. Brown eyes looked from her own gaze to her stomach before sighing in his head. Of course. He rolled his eyes before sheatching his weapon, trying to stand up straight as best he could before nodding head towards Malik.

"So you were gonna eat my camel then, is tha' it?" He started. Malik gave him a look of mixed horror and disgust at such an idea, which worsened as the man continued.
"Then get on with it. I warn you though, he'll taste worse than he smells. He's a walking rottin' corpse."

"Why I never!" Malik snapped, stomping one of his front hooves in the dirt. He rounded towards Keavy, flaring his slits for nostrils towards her. "Not a step towards me you little dust covered two leg. I'll spit in your eyes before your big toe can even reach the ground."

At this Rahn couldn't help but smirk. The camel actually looked worried. Oh, what a dope.

[ooc: Sorry this took so long D8 and crappy. Awesomesauce)