It was said that Ayem stumbled on Slen's body after he killed her. The beetle had blinded him. The stench of the corpse did not help him any as he struggled to find his bearings. The wind was currently blowing at his back, so he knew that there was a storm to his left. He walked only a few minutes before he felt the rain.
He reached into the sky and pulled out the rain clouds above. With all the moisture, he cleansed his eyes of the poison Slen shot at him. When he was done, there were no rain clouds left. That was why today, the city was often dry.
So why did it rain today?
Oylemanti shrugged the thought away. Urban superstition. Probably for tourists, he thought. Still, there was something about this place. They said the city was often dry. And on all occasions, on the first day of his frequent trips here, he had seen the evidence: cracked soil, thirsty air. But by the next day, it would rain. Not just a sprinkle, but pouring rain. It always made Chloria giggle too.
"What's on your mind?" Espio asked him.
The lupine shrugged, "The same. Life. Legends. Sometimes art."
"I haven't seen any new sculptures in a while," the bartender noted as she poured sandy ale into a glass.
"I don't do those anymore," he winced. He wished he did. But he had seen things ... he had done things that drained his artistic ambition away. The sad part was, Oylemanti gladly did those things. It was for her, he thought. It was always for her.
Espio gave him the glass. The lupine just looked at it. He did not want it. It was painful to drink. The grains of sand just scratch his throat on the way down. He hated it, but he always knew that. He drank it anyway.
"I have better drinks, you know," Espio said, "What about sweet dandelion tea? You always loved it."
"No."
"Well then," she sighed, "You should at least pretend that you enjoy that drink. Because it's all I have left. And I'm not buying anymore."
"Then I won't return."
"You will."
Oylemanti blinked. "How do you figure?" he asked.
"Because ... outside of the girl you like but can't have ... and outside of her super-imposing brother, I'm your only friend."
That was blunt. But Oylemanti knew she was right. And he knew he would always return to Espio's. He had lost all his friends ... even his relatives turned away from him. It was all because he wanted Chloria, but she wanted to be a vamp hunter. So, he became one too. But in the end, he had nothing.
"I didn't want to do it," he mumbled.
"Yeah," Espio replied, "But you're still doing it."
"I'm still doing it," he echoed.
The door opened. The lupine and canine looked to their new company. It was the strange furre from the previous day, Exavia. She was still wearing the leather backpack. Espio smiled at her.
"Hello again," she said, "The usual?"
Exavia grinned as she approached them, "I have a usual now?"
The brown feline sat next to Oylemanti. She still kept the bag on, he noted. He thought back to yesterday and realized that she had it on then too. Was there something important inside?
"Ginger ale," Espio laughed, "Interesting. I had three other customers who had some today."
"Oh?" Exavia said, "I thought I was the only one who liked it. Are these furres here now?"
The bartender shook her head, "They left just this morning."
The brown furre shrugged and looked back to Oylemanti. "Are furres still talking about me?" she asked.
"Of course," Oylemanti grinned, "Slen sees very little beauty."
Espio coughed as she gave Exavia her drink.
"Unless you're a canine bartender with strange green hair," he continued.
"Strange green hair?" she protested.
"I have never seen anyone with hair like yours."
"What about yours?" the bartender argued, "Your hair is cocoa mulch... I think."
"And what's that around your waist?" Oylemanti continued, ignoring the jabs that were coming his way, "Is that a scarf?"
The three furres looked down to her dark green garment that was tied around her baggy, burgundy trousers. It was too thick to be a belt. Espio reached down and tightened the ends.
"My sister gave it to me," she told them. She looked at him, puzzled, "Haven't you met a canine before?"
"No," he answered, "Have you ever seen a lupine before?"
"I've been to Lupinia."
"Demon," Exavia whispered.
The two bickering furres stopped to look at her. She was toying with her now empty glass. Exavia was whispering something to it. The two could barely hear her. She seemed distracted by the shiny glass.
"Are you okay, Exa?" Espio asked.
But she still played with her glass. She mumbled
something again but she was too far off in another world for them to understand
it. Oylemanti made a mental note of her stature and of her large
green eyes. Exavia would make an amazing sculpture, the lupine thought.
She was definitely the most mysterious furre he had ever met. He
would remember this feline for the rest of his life.
The equine's ears twitched. She moaned, exercising her dry throat. She was hearing something, but her brain could not comprehend it. It sounded like a chant. Her head spun at the voice as she visualized alluvium in her mind.
I am the ageless furre in your changing dunes, swept by the fluid of forgotten. You are my blood and I am your body. Ruin remains.
She grunted as the ground suddenly released it's stronghold on her. She sank into the newly formed pit. It was painful yet it felt satisfying to actually move for the first time in days. She tried to stand, but her knees could not handle the stress. She buckled, but an arm around her prevented her from falling. The equine looked to her companion and recognized him.
"Cunner," she said, causing her to cough.
"Almasta," the feline said. To the equine, even Cunner's annoyingly uneven voice was pleasant music to her now.
"I just had a little incident," she assured him, "Nothing to be concerned about."
"You were stuck halfway into the ground," Cunner replied, "How was that nothing to be concerned about?"
Almasta growled. Earth said he would be back soon to release her from her punishment. That was days ago. If it were not for nearby berries and roots to eat, she would be close to death. Thankfully still, there was a significant rainstorm yesterday. Still, she felt hungry and dehydrated. Earth did not keep his promise and she had to rely on one of the most insignificant vamps in her village to save her.
"Did you chant just now?" she asked him.
"Yeah I guess," he shrugged.
Her eyes became attentive as she looked around the pit. The ground had turned to sand. And he chanted just before it happened. Almasta smiled. Perhaps this vamp is not so useless after all. She knew something Earth did not. At least, she thought she did.