On the Edges of M'an

On the edges of the old city of M’an, under a small dirt road, is a large square stone culvert. It was made to connect a low spot to the nearby swamp. Now that the M’an was gone, and beasts of all nature had come and settled around the spot. The big rectangular culvert had been sealed off, with sturdy wood collected from the old M’an homes. A rather large thick door, carved nicely with intricate designs. It had a heavy steel handle, and a thick blue glass window in the top. Above the door on the wall, there was another window, this one made of thick clear glass. Inside of the culvert was a nicely furnished traders shack. There was a counter and a wall that connected it to the ground. On the wall, was the items the trader sold and their expenses. On the far left side, was a flip up door. Behind the counter was a blazing fireplace, with a nicely carved stone mantle. On the mantle sat a picture of a waterfall. Next to the fireplace was a big black pot, and a metal pan hung on the wall. On a rack above the pot was many spices, the largest being hotroot, and catmint. Farther down the culvert was a storeroom door, and across from the first door was another, that one leading to a bedroom. In front of the fire, was a beautifully carved rocking chair. In the rocking chair was a cat.
The cat was olive in color, and kind of shaggy. She had a black patch of color over her permanently closed right eye. She was partially scarred, her ear was split at the tip, and she had a scar on her leg. The cat wore a loose purple cloak tied around her waist. A softwood cedar staff leaned against the wall near her. The older cat had gone through a lot in her long life. She had lived in a large city, and was well seasoned in rationing, and trade. It was winter, and snow caked the ground in a huge white blanket.
The she cat had long forgotten her name but when other beasts came in they would call her Keep, as in Shopkeeper, or Patch for the patch over her eye, only friends called her Patch though.
Patch sat in her chair, purring in front of the warm fire. She stopped purring and looked at the door. The door was set ajar and a cold wind whipped in, and she was awoken quickly. She blinked her one light green eye, and grasped her staff. She leaned heavily on it as she tottered towards the door. As she reached the counter, and opened the clasp to open the flip door, the door opened wide. A big brawny otter walked in, his pelt the color of rust. He smiled, his dark brown eyes glistening happily.
“Hi Patch.” The old cat smiled and leaned on her stick.
“Rust! How are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m good, got any new products?” he asked. She nodded to the board in front of him. She hobbled backwards.
“Hey Patch, your walking a little funny, you ok?” he asked. A light blush spread across her face.
“I-I-I just woke up, I haven’t stretched.” the old cat had gotten arthritis in her back legs when she was younger, it was cured awhile ago but she now after she woke up, she was stiff and sore.
Patch scratched the back of her neck.
“I’ll look at the items.” he said with a smile. The she nodded. He crouched down his elbows on his knees. The cat instantly dropped down on four paws, and stretched from nose to tail tip. After she stretched, she rose back on her hind legs and leaned the stick back on the wall. She bounded forwards and leaned against the counter, her light green eye was sparkling in happiness, and her bushy tail bobbed behind her. The otter looked up at the cat, and stood up. He leaned on the other side of the counter. “I brought you some stuff from the river Patch. He said pulling a reed bag off of his left shoulder. He opened it and set two items on the counter. Patch’s face lit up with delight. In the otter’s paw was a wind chime, the perfect size for the cat. She waved her tail in happiness, and took the wind chime from the otter’s paw. The warm breeze from the fireplace moved the chimes softly, and it made a soft tinkling song. She bounced on her heels, and climbed atop the counter. She hung the wind chime in front of the window and climbed back down. She then picked up the second objects, a metal carved tiger. She turned it round and round.
“Do they really still have these?” she asked cocking her head and tapped on it with a claw.
“MmHmm” Rust said. “Found it deep pool in the river.” The otter smiled. Patch smiled and took the brass tiger. She set it atop the mantle and walked back. “So, how’s business?” Patch asked. “Same as always. The squirrels want arrowheads, the rabbits want food. The skunks want clubs and packs.” The red otter shrugged. “Better than nothing.” The cat said smiling.
“Want breakfast?” the she cat asked. The otter nodded. “Sure.” The she cat went to work right away. She pulled a tray out of the wall, it was full of snow. She poured the snow into the pot, and slid the tray back into the wall. She flipped the handle down into its groove. She set the pot on the fire and slid out a grill plate. On the grill plate she set the pan on it. She trotted into the storeroom on the left side and brought ingredients out. 6 robin eggs, wild leeks, shrimp and a pawfull of very hot peppers. She quickly prepared them all and threw half of the shrimp into the pot, half of the leaks and three chopped up peppers. Walking back into the storeroom she brought out garlic, bay leaves, carrots, celery, and smelt. They were already prepared and she added them to the stew pot. She cracked the eggs into the pan, and then waited for them to cook. As she waited she went and rummaged in the storeroom. She came out with a small package and set it on the counter. She didn’t say anything and went back to make the omelets. She put the shrimp the leeks and the rest of the hot peppers in the omelets. She went and got two bowls and plates. She put the two omelets on the plates and scooped two bowls of soup. She set one bowl and one plate in front of the otter and set another in front of her. She picked a stool up from her side and set it over the counter. The big red otter hopped on the stool, and nodded at the cat. “Thanks.” he said before starting to eat. Patch smiled, and started to eat. When they finished, Patch took the plates. She quickly cleaned all of the dishes, and sat back on the stool, her tail twirled behind her. “Do you have a place to stay tonight Rust?” she asked. The otter shook his head. “No, I don’t gotta place to stay.” he said. “But that’s fine, it’s just always this way.” he waved it away. “You know you can always come and stay here.” the old cat smiled. “Yeah but Patch, you’ve given me so much and you know that I can’t pay ya back.” he said. She reached across the counter, and set a paw on the big otter's shoulder. “You saved me from the river when my boat tipped, you sealed my home for me, you bring me part of your goods for trade for free, you bring me herbs and shrimp. Rust you're like my son.” she said looking the otter in the eyes. “And I hope you know you are alway...Always welcome in my home.” Rust nodded and smiled. A loud bang sounded, and the two creatures jumped back, as three squirrels swaggered into the room, kicking the door closed. The first was a huge gray squirrel. He was a fat fellow, his belly poking out from the edge of his tunic. He wore a light purple tunic, bound with a single golden button, the other two has popped off, and by the looks of it a long time ago. He was the most sober of the bunch, and he still swaggered heavily, and hiccuping. The next of his cohorts, the one on the other end of the three, was slightly smaller black squirrel. He wore a brown tunic, adorned with golden buttons, holding his shirt closed all the way down. He was a lithe lanky fellow, still shorter than his gray friend but not short for a squirrel. His mouth hung slightly ajar, and he had a much heavier swagger than his bigger friend. He was still, what you could call, slightly sober. The third squirrel, a little red squirrel, short and thin. She was totally drunk, her head swung back, and her feet dragged behind her on the floor. “Heya..*hiccup*..Patch.” The black squirrel drawled. “Wes’a folks... need some more*hiccup* dande...lion wine.” “Hello to you to Felix.” Patch said nodding her head, then she looked civilly down at the red squirrel hanging between her cohorts. “Lady Brandy, do you want to sit down?” she asked. The drunken squirrel nodded, and Rust noticed the bottle of wine, and the bottle of grog, held in her paws. “I’m just gonna take thi..” Rust reached for the bottle of grog, for it was stronger. The squirrel swung her foot up, jolting Rust to a stop, and making her spill the grog over her and her two friends. “Now...Lookie what ye did here.” she looked at herself. “You made me spill grog all over my new cloak.” she drawled. “Now if you hadn’t kicked me you wouldn’t have spilled the grog.” Rust said flicked grog from his left hand. “We got off on the wrong foot.” He said. He leaned over the counter and took the stool chair from Patch. He set it down on this side of the counter. “Go ahead and sit down Lady Brandy.” He moved back for the drunk squirrel to be lifted onto the chair. The smiled at him. “Thankee.” she smiled lopsidedly. The bottle of wine started to slip from her hand. Rust jolted to the floor, and caught the bottle. “You almost dropped this.” He said as he smiled at the squirrel. She happily took it back, and poured some of it into her mouth. Patch walked from the back room, warm cups of apple brandy in her hand. She set 5 cups of the stuff on the counter. Brandy picked it up and knocked it back in a couple of seconds flat. The big gray squirrel picked it up, and started to nurse it slowly. The smaller black squirrel shook his head “No thankee Patch, I’ve had enough to drink, if it be brandy, grog, or wine.” He held a paw to his head. Patch nodded and went into the back, bringing out a large cup of water. “Here you go Felix.” she said. The black squirrel took it and leaned against the wall, drinking the water. Rust smiled and nodded to Patch. “Thanks.” He said before taking a mouthful. Patch took a small drink of her own, then set it on a shelf, below the counter. Brandy clacked the mug back onto the counter. *ring* *ring* Patch’s ears twitched. “Rust can you open up the door please?” she asked. Rust nodded. “Sure.” And he moved over to the door. He pressed down the latch, and pulled hard on the heavy door. In the doorway was a creature huddled in cloth. “Thanks” It’s voice was squeaky but not female. A light red hand came up, and pulled the hood from it’s head. An older male squirrel, obviously out of his element to be down in the culvert trading shack. “Brandy!” his voice rose. “Oh now.” The lady squirrel moaned. “We’re going home.” He said. “Hey Squeaks.” Patch said. “But Dad…” “No buts about it. Felix, Grayson can you help me?” Grayson nodded, but Felix shook his head. “No, I gotta get home, If my Pa has to come find me again he’ll skin me alive.” He turned to Patch. “Thanks for the water Patch, but I gotta get home.” The lithe black squirrel quickly pulled the door open to a white wall. He closed it slowly. “Never Mind, He would kill me if I died in that snow storm.” He walked back to the counter. Squeaks growled, “The snow kicked up since I got here! You shouldn’t have been out Brandy!” he turned on his daughter. She didn’t answer. “I haven’t had the motel open in a long time, but the rooms are still there. The moles dug it out for me, and then my son and I cleaned it up. You can all stay there.” Patch suggested raising a paw. Squeaks growled as he thought about it. “Fine.” He said. “But you, Young lady haven’t seen the last of this.” He pointed a finger at Brandy. With that Patch pulled an old drawer open. A huge brass key was the only thing inside of it. She picked it up carefully, and pulled up the lift door. She walked through the animals gathered in the room, and walked to a wall. “Patch, I’m pretty sure that’s not..” “Shh” Patch cut Rust off. She unsheathed a single claw and picked a patch off of the wall. It fell off, and revealed a key hole. Patch inserted the key into the keyhole and turned it. Slowly a crack formed in the wall. A loud thunk echoed around the trading shack as the wall now swung open. Patch slid the brass key into her pocket, and strode in. No one moved for a few moments. Then Rust broke away from the group, and walked after Patch, he was more skittish than the cat, and rested his hand on a dagger sheathed on his side. He followed Patch, eyes darting around, paw-steps echoing around the old motel. “Wait for me!” Felix scampered after the two braver creatures, his tail going rigid behind him. When he caught up to Rust, he clung onto the otter’s jacket. Grayson was next falling to all fours to dart into the passage, clinging onto Felix’s tail. Sqeaks looked at Brandy, who was now slumped on the counter snoring, and then ran after the others looming slightly behind Grayson. Rust glanced to each side, looking at each door stopping slightly, then continuing after Patch seeing she didn’t stop. Patch finally stopped at the end of the hall, in front of a large door. The squirrels banded together behind Rust, as Patch knocked on the door. The noise echoed threateningly, but didn’t sway Patch. Grayson threw his arms around Felix, and Squeaks clung to Rust. Rust now unsheathed a silver dagger and held it at chest height. They stood in silence for a moment or two, until the loud *click* *click* *CLICK* signified the door unlocking. Then it creaked open. Peering out from the crack in the door, was the face of a rabbit.