Escape

[FoxyLady]

((Closed))


Deep in the unmapped forest of Corone, a young fox moved swiftly and silently through the brush. Her clothes made not a sound as she moved with a confident grace. Long black hair was tied back to keep it out of her face, while eyes the color of the sky moved back and forth, watching for signs of anyone following her. Over one shoulder she carried a burlap sack that clinked slightly every now and then. She was almost to her destination, though she was sure someone would catch up with her soon.

At last, she came to a low, ramshackle building. At least, it looked that way at a glance. Upon a closer look, one would be able to see that each board was placed just so, a clever disguise that was aimed to keep curious people away. The young thief made her way around to the back of the building and waited to be let in. It took a few minutes, but soon a door swung open and she was admitted.

“You’re back early, Vivi,” a tall fox noted as he shut the door behind her. He was quite tall, easily 6' and moved with an air of being ready to do unspeakable violence. His name was Tony and he was the doorman for his boss’s secret domain.

“I didn’t have a choice. No one told me they had a dog and I didn’t see it in time to get a full load. I had to cut out early or be caught. No one saw me though. Is...is he here?”

“The boss? Nah, he’s in his box at the Pit. You don’t have much there, you know he ain’t gonna be happy.”

“Do you have to remind me? Do you think that I’m not aware of that? I didn’t have a choice, Tony. I better get this turned in. I’ll see you later.”

Shouldering her bag once more, she moved off through the well-lit halls to the counting room, where she deposited her bag of stolen valuables. It would not be enough to cover this week’s interest on her loan, let alone put any kind of dent in the total, but it would be something. Hopefully, so long as she kept bringing in something, she would be safe from her boss’s wrath.

Two hours later, Vivian sat dejectedly in her seat. The fights were done for the day, but she did not feel like going to her one-room hut of a home. The decision to go or stay was soon made for her though as two of her boss’s bouncers came up behind her. One laid a hand on her shoulder while the other spoke.

“Zopa says he needs to talk to you. Now.”

The vixen swallowed, then rose smoothly to her feet, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder. She knew what this would be about, and she was determined not to let the tiger see how much he frightened her or how desperate she was right then.

In his office, Zopa, an Arctic Fox, sat in his large chair behind his desk. He waited almost anxiously for Vivian’s arrival. He remembered well the day he’d met her and took her under his wing. Besides being his top thief, she had also become one of his best female Pit fighters. He’d started the Pit close to 20 years ago when he came down from Salvar. The fighting arena was round and about 50' in diameter with a 50' wall. Seats had been arranged all the way around it for spectators, though it couldn’t seat more than 200 people at the most. The whole thing was underground and was reached by going through a tunnel carved out of a small hillock. That entrance was well-hidden as well, since he was certain that the nearest authorities would not appreciate his types of business.

Aside from owning and managing the Pit, Zopa also lends money. Of course, he also charges interest, but that interest rate is quite high and is added on weekly. There are many people that owe him vast sums, but none quite so much as the young lady he was currently waiting on. Of course, he could be more patient or lenient with her considering she was his employee, but she was also quite beautiful and he admired beautiful things. Thus, he had decided that it was time for her to pay up in one way or another.

As they neared the door to his office, Vivian steeled herself for her talk. It would not be easy, but she had to convince him to give her more time. They knocked on the door and waited for his answer before shoving her through. The office was as grand as she remembered it being. Everything was chosen for its elegance or beauty. There were no chairs for her to sit in, so she stood in front of his desk.

“Hello, Vivian. I hope you are doing well and I trust you know why I’ve brought you here? Good, good. How much longer, Vivian? I want my money.”

“Please,” she stammered, all her previous determination leaving her, “I need more time. I just can’t get that kind of money as soon as you want it, short of robbing a bank and I’m not that skilled yet. Please, I need just a little more time.”

The large fox was silent for a bit, stroking his chin as if deep in thought. “All right, two more nights. I’ve already taken the liberty of moving your belongings to a room here at the Pit. This way, you don’t also have to use your money on food and your shelter. After those two nights, you will no longer be thieving for your money, you will work your debt off in whatever ways I see fit. Is that clear?”

There was no mistaking the lust in his eyes as she swallowed hard, “Y-yes sir. Crystal clear, sir.”

“Good, those two buffoons outside will show you to your new home. Feel free to spruce it up and make it more comfortable. You may go. Oh and one more thing, don’t even think about trying to run. Should you actually manage to get past the guards, they will just hunt you down and then I’ll have to put chains on you. I would truly hate to do that, so please don’t make me.”

Vivian nodded again and then left. She was silent as they walked down the halls toward the guest rooms for the Pit fighters. It was another thing Zopa offered. Should someone wish to fight regularly, Zopa provided a small room that contained a bed, a washstand, a small stove, and a cupboard to store a small amount of food. The area was arranged like an inn and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a few of the fighters roaming the hall.

“Here ya go, sweetie,” the bouncer smirked as he unlocked her door and opened it for her. “Mind if I come in for a bit to see your new digs?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do. Go away, Jorge.”

Jorge would not be persuaded though, he pushed through the door, grinning. “Awww, come on. I know what your new job is now. You do realize that you won’t be able to get that kind of money? Zopa likes his girls to be a little experienced, so why don’t you just let me in...”

Vivian pushed at him, trying to get him back out. “I said no! Ahhhhh!” She cried out briefly in pain as Jorge grabbed at her wrist and twisted her around.

“The bossman don’t care what happens to you anymore,” he growled, “so as long as you can still perform what he wants, I can have what I want. You’re a pretty little thing though, so I won’t be too rough...”

His companion chuckled and left him to his own devices, ignoring the shouts for help as Vivian still tried to fight back. He had a girl at his own apartment who was probably wondering what was taking him so long to get home. He didn’t particularly care what Jorge did, so long as it didn’t come back on him.

[Fenris]

Fihrinn was never one to look down on others because of their race, but...

That minotaur stank.

He tried to remember smelling anything worse than sweaty minotaur...memory seemed to fail him.

The big ox grabbed an old rag and started dabbing at a pole-arm wound to his shoulder.

"Where's a healer?" he bellowed.

The guard by the arena's entrance, a rather smug lynx, chuckled at the bull. "There are none. Tend to it yourself."

The minotaur muttered a variety of curses and plodded out of the preparation chamber through one of the exit tunnels on the south wall. The smell faded a bit.

Fihrinn turned back to his knives, polishing them with a small scrap of satin. He was a little pensive about his impending duel with some desperate brute across the arena...but it was worth it. So many despondent, caged creatures trapped in this pit of hell, with no way out...

His thoughts turned once more to the fox. He hadn't even seen her yet, but he'd heard plenty about her from the guards as they'd looted her hut. She was just the kind of creature he'd come here to find--trapped by debt, little more than a slave, about to lose even her basic dignity...

A low growl grated in his throat. This "Zopa" character had better hope they never met each other in a dark hallway somewhere...

And then a familiar laugh echoed through the entry tunnel. Fihrinn's ears perked up, and a surprised smile split across his maw as the Highlander stepped into the preparation room.

"Corvus MacCallum!"

[Corvus MacCallum]

"I told you to call me Cor, how goes it Finn?"

Wasn't a technically correct way to refer to his fellow canine amigo, but he had a hell of a time wrapping his tongue around that name, those bloody Mods were all the same with the fancy names... whats wrong with calling your son Keith?... then again thats the human part of his background speaking. He had been here once or twice before, though only as a spectator, this time however he was wanting to pit himself up against some of those paltry show-fighters. The mutts tail was wagging freely and his iron slammer had never looked in better condition, bout the closest he`d ever get to being tidied up, specially considering the tears, scratches and bad stitching on his outfit.

With a quick shuffle his back-pack slid from his shoulder and delivered itself quite neatly down his arm and into his hand, setting it to the side and securing them, no twat would be touching his guff unless they wanted to nudge their chess peices about with a stump. Chuckling quietly he approached his barking brethren and reached out for the furred hand, giving it a good firm shake.

"Haven't seen you for awhile mate, what ya been up to?"

So he'd be fighting alongside him again, fun, finally getting a chance to see how much this other wolf had improved... he was competitive that was true but still, important to have equals in combat. He had signed up for a tag-team match, not usually his style but for once it looked like a tempting idea... just like the old days, with his amigo... shaking free of the thoughts the Highlander got to ponder on their opponents, one rather flighty looking mare with a twirling staff of wood and her husband... he...

Sweet jimminy!

The Wolf-man winced as he finally caught whiff of the Minotaur, he had been distracted by his furred friends reapperance but godamn, that sort of sweat hit you like a ton of bricks once it grabbed hold of your nostrils. The other opponent was the equine womans husband, something of a bull... where did these animal hybrids pop up from, he used to think it was just wolves that got to humping the women... needless to say he was a big bruiser, perfect opponent to take down with a single swipe.

[Fenris]

Fihrinn laughed, placing a paw on his friend's shoulder.

"It goes well, Cor. I've been up to all manner of things..."

And then an idea hit him. He glanced over his shoulder at the wildcat before turning back to the Highlander.

"In fact, I could use your help with something I'm working on..."

"Hey!" the guard snapped. "Last show of the day, let's go, you two!"

"Ah." Fihrinn grinned apologetically. "Hold that thought."

He took his place at the entrance beside the two equines and nodded to the mare.

"Treoir is urram, miss." She looked at him like he was crazy--he just smiled, and turned to Corvus. "I hope you've learned some kind of useful combat since our jaunt through the Brokenthorn, mutt." He winked.

And then the iron gate was rattling into the ceiling, and the four fighters strode firmly into the Pit.

The air reeked of ale and tobacco, and the shallow sand over the Pit's floor smelled of stale blood and--of course--more minotaur sweat. The stuff was everywhere.

The stallion and mare trotted across the arena, and Fihrinn circled a quarter turn around to the right. The female slowly spun her staff, eyeing her opponents, while her rather hulkish mate hefted a rather clumsy-looking mace. The crowd roared.

"Take the bitches down, Rousseau!" someone yelled.

The stallion grinned dumbly, displaying yellowed and overly-large teeth, and flexed his bulky biceps, shaking his mace at the stands and eliciting a howl of support. Fihrinn smiled.

The bigger they come...

He nodded at Corvus as the muscled tiger overlooking the match hefted his mallet toward the gong.

Boom!

The stallion charged, swinging his mace madly back and forth. Fihrinn rolled his eyes. The mule could've at least pretended to be somewhat intelligent...

He set off across the sand with low, long, loping strides, timed with the beat of the mace's swing.

Wait...wait...

He dove. The mace arced just over his back as he rolled, lashing out with his blade--

But the stallion saw it just in time and hopped awkwardly, just sparing his hamstring as Fihrinn's knive shaved the hair from his calf. The wolf rolled to his feet, coming back to back with the Highlander.

"But what about you, Cor? What brings you to Corone?"

The stallion spun and pawed the sand, preparing for another charge.

[Corvus MacCallum]

"Me?..."

Corvus grinned as his own opponent attempted her own little swing of a weapon, hooves cleaving through the ground as she did a funky two legged trot towards him. Twirling that staff like some badly mimiced master of the east... or whatever direction those kind of monks lived in, before with a spin on the... well not really a heel, hooves don't have those she tried to bring her staff in side-ways. With a loud thud her blow proved useless as the Highlander tightened his claws around the enemies weapon, giving a sharp tug and throwing the mare well out to the side.

"What else does a fighter come to these places for?... a bloody good time hound, no stop licking your nuts and get stuck in"

Both gave a fearsome howl, for once Finn not making use of his special powers and only giving off a sound to match his furred amigo. The more wolven featured Mod darting back to his opponent as Corvus kicked off in the direction of the fallen mare. As Fihrinn drew up close to his lower minded opponent the stallion once again brandished his mace, a fanged smirk covering the wolfs muzzle and as it started to come down in a slow, forced movement he pounced.

His teeth latched onto the narrow handle of the hulking weapon, a quick kick to the ground sending him spinning round it as those rough ivory mouth-fillers slid around the handle. His hands smacking hard against the back of the mace to propel him off and then dragged both his blades through the stallions shoulders until he was nestled with his legs around the stallions lower torso.

With a wailing whinney the equine barbarian fell to the ground and wound up smacking his already dented skull against the fallen mace. Fihrinn making himself quite comfortable on the opponents back, even as an anthro they seemed well designed to carting folks about. He couldn't resist, this was a perfect opportunity to show off, jabbing his heels into the dumb stallions sides and getting a nice grunting response, looking over to his lesser furred pal.

"Seems this pony needs to be broken"

"This ones almost there"

While Fihrinn had been occupied mounting the hulking male, Corvus had been in a throwing match with the mare. Not in a grappling sense mind, but she was too stubborn to know when to let go of her weapon and she just kept finding Cors paws all over one end, then came the sailing through the air and the rough impact on the ground. He really hated beating up women, that was really the reason he had been using such simple tactics, finally as she crashed against the ground for an nineth time the inkling of a new attack strategy came to mind. As Corvus rushed towards her the mare steadied herself onto bloodied knees and thrust her staff out, the Highlander lept, just about clearing the steel tip. In the air his left hand clasped onto the Slammers handle and then with a literal slashing of air he brought the flat down upon her head, there was thankfully no wet crack, he had managed to restrain his strength enough not to turn her head to mush... but yes on that impact she dropped like a stone.

"Seems I went a bit hard, shes conked out Mod"

"This ones still bucking for freedom, wooow boy!"

The stallion was operating on inbred instinct right now, bucking and neighing for all his worth as Fihrinn hung on with consumate ease... the two Salvic wolves had braved rougher fishing boats than what this giant could provide. Finally that all stopped as the furry Mod gave enough jabs to cause a great gallop in his new mount, charging blindly through the arena, even knocking over his wife a few times before with a resounding crack, driving his head against the wall. No one could fathom which was thicker, but in this case the wall won as the stallion slumped to the ground.

"Victory to the howling brothers!"

It was a wonderful mingling of sounds, cheers... boos and of course, the many, many subtle sounds of betting slips torn asunder in frustration and all those other negative emotions gamblers often delved into. Resheathing his sword... well rehooking it at least Corvus chuckled on watching Finn dismount his broken steed and face a bit of trouble removing his blades, but after a little walking and laughing the two were reunited at the center of the arena. Back to back they stretched out those furred arms and listened to the clamour of applause and cheering all due to their efforts.

"Theres something important I'd like you to get involved with Corvus"

"Looking to go for a championship title heheh?... either way pretty free right now, up for whatever your meagre hound mind has on offer"

Any such conspiring notions were lost to the establishment of the fighting pit watching from the plushest of viewing boxes thanks to all that uproar in celebration. Finally they had received enough of an ego stroking, both heading out to the preperation room once again, then out into the connecting hall-way, it wrapped right around the arena in a nice convienent circle. The two walking side by side, though not a word was raised until they had finally gotten shot of the guards keeping any unregistered fighter out of the place.

"So whats this about then Finn?"

"Well its a girl here tha-..."

Both pairs of ears twitched as they made out muffled scuffling, Fihrinn had a fair whack more certainty on where to go and what was currently happening, while Corvus didn't have that much of an inkling, but bad vibes were working through the hallway. Both tore along the carpeting and happened upon the room Vivian was currently being man-handled in, one look at the two blood-thirsty wolves and Rodney, Jorges erstwhile tolerator, scarpered like a yellow streaked chicken of the cowardly persuasion.

For a big place those doors look cheap, oh well

With a loud growl the wood buckled and snapped apart from its frame as Corvus rammed his shoulder against it, witnessing Jorge getting quite involved physically with a young lass... there were times to make jokes... and times when jokes were made for you. He threw out his arm and yelled it.

"Sic em!"

[FoxyLady]

Jorge continued to twist her arm up behind her back painfully, almost lifting her off her feet. He had almost managed to make it far enough inside the room to close the door when the last people he expected to be there, appeared. The sudden appearance of the two wolves she’d seen fighting earlier brought a sigh of relief from Vivian as Jorge let go of her to face his attacker. The big brute spun on one heel smoothly, claws spread as he watched Corvus.

“What do you think you’re doing, mutt? If you want a turn with the wench, then you’ll just have to wait and pay Zopa. I’m sure he’ll let you have her for a price, but I get her first.”

While Jorge spoke in his rough voice, Vivian moved cautiously out of the way, massaging her shoulder gingerly. She didn’t know what these guys were up to, but anything that would stop Jorge was more than welcome.

Jorge had a malicious grin on his face. He used to be a champ in the Pit, until he took the job as head bouncer for Zopa. Over the last four years though, he had not lost a single bit of his fighting skills. Darting suddenly to the left, he reached out to slash at Cor’s arm, hoping to damage it sufficiently that the wolf-man could use the big sword on his back. His other claw he held ready to deflect whatever blow Corvus would offer in return.

While the two fought, a small crowd began to form around them, making a small circle. Shouts of support rang out for both fighters, but Vivian just stood quietly, praying that her rescuers would not get too badly hurt in this.

[Fenris]

Bunnies in post 5 approved

Fihrinn smiled as his friend knocked the door from his hinges, but held back.

Fools rush in...

And it paid off. Vivian's attacker was a hulkish tiger who spun around--lithely--and started to provoke a spar. That, sadly, caught the attention of others in the Pit, and spectators began to gather around the fox's room.

Fihrinn glanced either way down the corridor, then fell back into the ranks of the watchers as they goaded the duelers on. This would be precarious--but hopefully Corvus would recognize his plan.

"Skin the cat!" he called, adding his voice to the others. "Skin the cat, mutt!" The tiger couldn't have seen him following Corvus, as he had never leapt through the room's threshold. He would play the part of a spectator, a watcher, an interested passerby, strategically placed at the edge of the circle within an arm's length of the fighters...

Until the moment came.

[Corvus MacCallum]

Jorge may have been many things in the past and a handful of things in the present, a previous champion, a warrior hired for his muscle and size... but there was one important thing he lacked in his resume'...

"AARGH!"

He was no Highlander...

The massive feline anthro was clutching his bloodied hand, his defensive posture lost out of sheer pain, the hand he had tried to attack with crimson leaking out between the fingers of his other hand, currently cradling the injured one. Corvus took a step back, his own hand a tad bloodied but it was all from Jorge, flexing his fingers and giving a light toss, a flimsy wet sheet of skin and fur falling to the ground. When Jorge had swung for him the Wolf-man thrust his own hand to meet it, gripping between Jorges fingers and before the giant cat could recover from the shock of the slam to his arm joints quickly sank his claws in and ripped a chunk from the attempting rapist.

While Jorge was busy ripping off a sleeve to stop the bleeding for now Corvus decided to lighten his load a tad. That was a lucky strike, he had been meaning to throw the guy off balance, but his claws sank in on badly anchored flesh, no bones to hook between. Tail flicking its tip from side to side the Highlander detached his gigantic blade from its harness, a quick jump and then slamming his elbows into the handle, forcing it into the ground, just enough to stop it toppling. He had no real worries of it being stolen, most people here were spectators with a lot of the fighters having left earlier, not folks that could heft a sword like that and make a quick get away.

Jorges hand was patched up with the aid of a fan, Corvus narrowing his eyes at the skinny sliver of a Tabby which resulted in that ever supportive cheerer for Jorge, scarpering like his arse was on fire. The two combatants re-entered the circle left by the crowd, among all the cheers and yells Corvus fought the urge to look back at Finn and chew the git out. Still this was a test of muscle and that hound was pretty flimsy.

This time Jorge wasn't going to leave a weak point and so clenched up his fists, he could skin the wolf-man later at his own leisure. The cat-man had a foot or two of advantage in height, but knew his size and power wouldn't make much of a dent considering the sword that mutt carried, instead he just took a quick hop forward, letting his feet fall securely upon the ground before giving a spin, his elbow aimed for Cor' jaw line. The Salvarian wolf quickly leaned back head just being grazed by the air passing with the felines arm, then it shot forward, was an odd technique, many had never seen it before that day... but there it was, headbutting someones arm. Most of the audience had sensitive hearing and made out that faint crack as Jorges arm began to give way from the bash.

More importantly this strange attack was pushing the Felines footing up onto his heels, where balance and flexibility were much reduced, still pushing on Corvus quickly brought his arms in from the side, Jorges counter-attack of a collar-bone breaker stopped, well, the force of it was as air was crushed out of his lungs. The metal encased fore-arms of Corvus having banged in just below his rib-cage, quickly the Highlander pushed his advantage and brought his head down low, then high smacking aside the arm, his claws sank into Jorges clothing and sides to get a firm boost and smashed his hair-line off the felines jaw, blood spitting out from his opponents lips as fangs closed on a rough tongue.

Before Corvus lost all momentum he rammed his knees against the chest of the feline and then shoved off, on hitting the ground there was no stylish flip or such, he just had a bit of scrabbling on his toes in order to stop without falling flat on his ass.

Jorge may have been good, probably still would be when he woke up, but even through all the practice and beatings, he'd never fought a Highlander before...

[FoxyLady]

Vivian looked on with amazement as she watched the two combatants fight. It wasn’t long before those who had been encouraging Jorge fell silent or changed sides. No one wanted to cheer on the losing side of a fight. Before long, Jorge fell to the ground, unconscious, bleeding and bruised. A few of the spectators congratulated Corvus, but most turned away talking amongst themselves or simply going back to their own rooms.

With her shoulder and arm still aching, Vivian cautiously walked up to Corvus, a small smile of gratitude on her face. She had no idea why this man had come to her rescue, but she was certainly very glad that he had.

“Corvus, isn’t it?” she asked quietly, remembering the name the announcer had given early that night. “Thank you, for stopping him. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t shown up.” She was silent a moment then looked up at him again, “Um, you and your friend can come in for a little while if you like,” she said invitingly as she gestured to the open doorway to her room.

~~~~

Meanwhile, one of the spectators had run through the halls of the Pit and to Zopa’s office. The young coyote pounded on the door almost frantically until he heard an irritated voice summon him inside. Gulping back the bile forming in the back of his throat, he prepared to go in and tell the boss what had just happened. He knew he was not to come to Zopa unless Zopa sent for him, but he thought that Zopa would probably like to hear about this troublemaker who beat up a bouncer.

“Zopa, sir! I was just in the housing facilities when I witnessed a fight between one of tonight’s fighters and Jorge.”

“And?” the white tiger asked, uninterested in fights that were not earning him money.

“And, well, Jorge lost. The fighter was one of those wolf-men that fought the minotaurs.”

“Why are you telling me this? Whatever that fighter did to earn Jorge’s attention, I’m sure he deserved it.”

“That’s jus it, sir. The fighter wasn’t doing anything, he picked the fight with Jorge because of what Jorge was doing.”

“And what was that?” he asked, sorting through the papers on his desk.

“He was, well. Umm, he was trying to force his way into Vivian’s room. From the way she was protesting, I can only assume that it wouldn’t have been to simply visit. The wolf-man heard her hollering and proceeded to beat the crap out of Jorge. He’ll live, but he’s gonna have one heckuva headache in the morning.”

Zopa sighed and looked up at the young coyote. Why was it that these young people always had to beat around the bush when they wanted to tell him something? If he had said all that first, Zopa could have given his instructions by now and be well on his way to finishing tonight’s paperwork.

“Get some others to help you get him to a bed somewhere, then in the morning I want to see him just as soon as he wakes up. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!” Turning smartly on his heel the young coyote left his boss to his work. He was quite relieved to get out of that office without having to endure a tongue-lashing about interrupting Zopa’s work.

[Fenris]

Fihrinn raised an eyebrow and shrugged, smiling to himself.

Should've known better than to think you'd need help, Cor.

Something caught his eye as the fight ended, however. Among the nonchalant spectators meandering back down their respective corridors, a young canine scampered away in earnest. Fihrinn had seen him before. One of Zopa's "employees." The poor lad was trapped here paying off debts for his father--a complication that would make him difficult to liberate. The way he hurried off, though, made Fihrinn frown. They'd attracted attention. Or at least, Cor had. With all the mischief Fihrinn had been working in the Pit of late, he couldn't afford such publicity.

He turned then to the subject of his latest venture.

"Thank you, Vivian," he said, offering a kind smile as he entered. "We have a lot to talk about."

[Corvus MacCallum]

I'm sure you do

Finn and his habit of making plans and convulting things, Corvus was a much more direct fellow if he could help it. With that little victory taken care of and his footing regained the Highlander glanced about the parting crowd, step by clawed step he returned to that iron monolith of destruction, ripping it out from the hole carved only a handful of moments before and clunking it against the back of his harness. Busying himself with fixing on the chains as he walked past both Finn and Vivian into the open room, sure there was likely a liberation plan at work, that hardly took much grey matter to realise but really the Highlander wasn't fussed with the details, he was more interested in the escape.

"Nothing but a big pussy that guy, jaw cracked like glass ah well..."

He spoke quietly and more of a mutterance to himself, eyeing up the modest little dwelling establishment and finding exactly what he wanted, yes good hard wall. Pressing his Slammer against it and then himself, stomach rising forth, his toes leaving the ground as the Highlander gave a good, strong, arm-folded stretch.

[FoxyLady]

Once everyone was inside the small room, Vivian closed the door. There wasn’t much to the room. It was little more than ten feet long by ten feet wide, containing only a small bed, a table, a chair and a washstand that had obviously seen better days.. There was no window as the room was underground.

“Well, ummm, you can sit wherever you can find a spot,” she said hesitantly as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. “I wish I had something to offer you, but I just moved in myself.” She was silent for a moment then continued, “Thank you again for stopping Jorge. I don’t know what I would have done, but I suppose I should get used to it. Anyway, you said we had much to talk about. I must confess, I’m a little confused by that. What do we have to talk about?”

Outside the door, several other large cats had gathered to take Jorge to his room. They chuckled and talked amongst themselves as they lugged the heavy brute down the hall. None could believe that Jorge had actually lost a fight. Jorge had not lost a fight since he was barely more than a kitten. A few talked about the possibility of Jorge going after the wolf-man, but others talked that down, saying that Jorge was no fool. He wouldn’t go back after someone that had knocked him out like this.

Eventually, they got Jorge to a bed, then returned to their own rooms. Most were either regular fighters or off-duty bouncers themselves. Each had his own room in the fighters’ housing quarters and each was very ready for the bed that awaited them.

[Fenris]

Fihrinn sighed as he stepped through the room. It smelled of cobwebs and hopelessness. A prison cell without the bars.

He leaned against the wall across from the door, crossing his arms and sweeping his tail casually. He chuckled as Cor yanked his blade from the floor before turning his attention back to the fox.

"There's plenty. First and foremost, how you plan on paying off a king's ransom in less than 48 hours."

[Corvus MacCallum]

White fangs were bared to the world, as well as a long tongue, from behind those came a very quiet yawn rising from the wolf-mans throat. Always brought his mood down a bit, feeling all that rich adrenaline, fuel of heated movements and quick decisions... but now came the talking bit and while Corvus wasn't adverse to some fun banter, he didn't want to labour the point that this girl needed out, she wouldn't be able to repay her debt and so she would be broken out... he'd be the one to do it, Finn would probably only be useful as a last resort club, nah he'd break too quick.

A quiet chuckle shook the Highlanders shoulders as he pictured the scene of fighting off some of this places guards with Finn rigid in his grip, after him keeping a low profile in the fight... otherwise known as cowardly skulking back, Corvus wasn't that put off in thinking of his chum as an easily damaged implement. Hopefully this little exposition would resolve itself quickly, he was bright, you had to be in order to be a good warrior but the facts were simple and everything stared them straight in the eyes... so why act like some large plot is being threaded through tonight and eventually tomorrows events?

Bide a wee, we bide our time... meh

[FoxyLady]

Vivian shrugged and drew her knees up to her chest.

"It's flat impossible. The only way anyone could get that kind of money that quick would be to rob the Bazaar blind and no one is that good, especially not me. It's hopeless."

She sighed forlornly and gazed down at the floor. It hadn't been swept thoroughly in awhile. She could see dirt along the walls. If she looked up at the ceiling, cobwebs hung in the corners. The bed she sat on was lumpy and not at all comfortable. She thought that if she stayed here, the floor would be more comfortable than the bed.

The one thing in the room that made it a little less stark, was the picture sitting on the bedside table. It contained two foxes, a beautiful female with brown hair and a tall, strong-looking male with black hair. The picture was taken when they were both quite young, not much older than 20 and before Vivian had come along. It was the only thing she had to remind her of her parents. Beside the picture sat an old stuffed kitty named Kathy. Its thread whiskers were falling out, and the stuffing was lumped up in places, but Kathy had been there with Vivian throughout her life. The picture of her parents and the stuffed cat were her most prized possessions. They were also the only things that she would insist on taking if she decided to attempt to outrun Zopa.

"Did you have any ideas for what I'm to do? Or should I just accept what Zopa has planned for me?"

[FoxyLady]

Much as I really hate to do this, due to the inactivity of the other two people, I'm dropping this. I will be restarting it after I finish recruiting. Thank you.