Fable - Ask The Clever Fox, The Powerful Jackal

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Wisteria

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The sun was high, and the market called to her. Coin had almost rained upon her the night before, and the need for new silks and fans pulled her out of bed. The fox girl stretched languidly as she slid out of bed. She stifled a yawn, her ears giving a flick as she caught the sounds from the streets below. Wisteria made her way to her dresser, grabbing the brush off it's rough knotted top. She brushed her hair and tail delicately, each swish taming and smoothing the wild hair that sleep brought forth. She slipped out of her nightgown, dropping it carelessly on the floor.

She pulled peach colored dress, delicate silk caressing her curves as she sighed quietly. She left her feet bare, a preference for the dainty dancer. She made for the door, deciding that perhaps breakfast would be better in the market. The pale girl covered her eyes from the sun as she crossed the threshold, the light blinding her momentarily. With a soft chirp of happiness, she weaved through the streets, the open market not too far away.

Wis was immediately assaulted by the noises and smells that the market produced. It was overwhelming and exciting every time. She began to meander through the stalls, on the hunt for some sweet honeyed bread. The perfect treat for her day off. After wandering for quite a while, she found herself on a quieter side street, her stomach growling angrily at her. She gave a moan of exasperation, and made to turn back and settle for something else to fill her belly,

Rahma
 
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Ragash's streets were becoming progressively familiar to Rahma. No longer did he feel quite as much like the sidewinder out of sand that he had before being recruited to the Hands by Mistress Medja. Now he simply found new things to be annoyed at about the city he resided in, the quirks of Ragash bearing their own, unique inconveniences for the demi-jackal to let bother him.

Today, that annoyance was the bazaar. Salitra's markets were so much easier to navigate than those of the ever opulent streets of the Glistening City. Even with the enforcer's newfound comfort wandering through Ragash, he doubted that he'd ever fully adjust to the overwhelming smorgasbord that the bazaar had to offer.

Rahma passed a relatively humble fruit stall and paused, producing a couple of coins from within his silken shirt, and snatched up some kind of melon that he'd come to grow fond of since moving. He continued his walk thereafter, using fanged canines to pry away some of the melon's peel, then sank his teeth into the juicy flesh beneath.

The demi-jackal's upper ears flicked, tail hanging low behind him through his slops. Most days, Ragash was utterly boring. This morning was no exception. Another intended bite from the melon slowly turned into a yawn as Rahma wandered the busy streets of the bronze bazaar.

Then came a tingle, mid-yawn. Rahma stopped, his eyes popping open. Some uncomfortable sensation ran up and down his spine, mildly, dully, but noticeable beyond what was normal. Bright eyes scanned the bustling crowd, nose sniffed the air, ears rotated to scan for abnormalities. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but the tingle did not cease. Odd.

He continued his walk, ripping another bite out of the melon and spitting part of its skin onto the dusty cobble of the street beneath him. The further he walked, the stronger the tingle became, its buzz beginning to make his skin prickle and hairs stand on end. What was this?
 
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Wisteria spun in a circle, confusion gripping at her. A sensation she had not yet felt made her skin priceless, and her tail puffed in response. She smoothed the fur between her fingers, her ears searching for an abnormal sound, her nose an abnormal scent.

Nothing stuck out to her, but as the moments passed it made her increasingly uncomfortable. A paranoia she couldn't shake. With trepidation, she began to proceed on her walk, fingers clenching and unclenching, knuckles white with the force of it.

It only seemed to grow stronger as she moved, dancing between people and stalls. Curiosity drove her, even as the paranoia begged her to flee. She caught a glimpse of a tail, and she felt an involuntary hiss escape her lips. Her fingers flexed and she could feel the hair on the back of her neck tingle. She bit her lip, and sought to catch up to whatever it was she saw.

Rahma
 
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Every instinct in Rahma's body was telling him to get away, that this feeling was one of warning and not of calling, but he'd not felt anything like it before. The source had to be found. He needed answers.

Rahma lifted the melon to his lips to take another bite, but as the buzz grew stronger his appetite diminished. He dropped the shell to the ground and whirled. A hiss. It was barely audible above the din of the market, but he heard it. He knew he did. But where?

An alley. As soon as he'd spotted it the hair on his back stood on end. The shift started to take hold as well, fur beginning to climb the edges of his extremities and up his forelimbs. He growled low and darted off in that direction, earning a few complaints from those in the street he had to push through to get there.

Dust rolled from the cobble beneath Rahma's feet. The sensation was hitting its crescendo now, a rolling, churning sensation in his gut that wished him away. This was it, the last chance to run, but he would not!

He skidded to a stop as he entered the alleyway, and in an instant he saw her: a woman that looked...strangely like him. Snow-white hair, tufts of fur, a long tail and canine ears to match. For reasons he could not explain, Rahma felt...angry? Afraid? What came next was born purely of his instincts.

Rahma's pupils constricted as tight as they would go. The hair on his head and the fur that covered his forearms, neck, tail, and the patch on his back, all raised in a ridge down the middle. His canine teeth grew long and sharp, as did the claws that protruded from his fingers. It was as if his entire body was on a razor's edge, a low growl emanating from somewhere deep in the back of the half-jackal's throat.

"...What are you?..."
 
Wisteria stopped suddenly, confronted with the thing that made her feel like running, like fighting. Neither thing was a common desire, and it frustrated her. Words stuck in her throat, instead a returning high pitched warning escaped her lips. Her territory was invaded, and she had to confront this danger.

Wisteria crouched, hair slowly covering her body, her fingers spread in anticipation for an attack, her teeth sharp, her tail swishing with agitation as she stared down this...threat?

He spoke before she had the chance, and she bared her teeth at him. He was like her, but yet so foreign. Normally she was a curious creature, but right now she had the distinct urge to get him off her territory now


"
You're in my space. Get out" She almost couldn't believe the tone of aggression that came from herself. Her ears went back, and her tail moved in an ever more agitated manner. "Who are you."

Rahma
 
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"Your space?!" he spat. He hunched over, claws forward. Sure, this wasn't Salitra, but how the fuck was this...thing gonna claim the gods-be-damned bazaar to herself? He took a single step forward, his upper ears folding down. "No. Fuck that."

So many questions. Why did this woman kinda look like him? Why, and how was she shifting like that? Like he could? He had to have answers! He gripped the side of the building he stood next to, claws raking across the stucco. Tiny pieces of the wall fell to the ground and scattered across the dusty alley.
"Rahma. I asked you a question first, precious. What. Are. You?"
 
He stepped forward, and she growled in response. Her ears were back, her tail swiping the air with ferocity. She narrowed her eyes as he challenged her, her clawed hands curling in preparation for a fight.

She could feel the venom from his lips, calling her precious was absolutely not a term of endearment. Her lip curled in response, sharp teeth visible. She bit out her response, every instinct fighting her will to stay put. "I'm a girl, and a fox. It's plain as day we're cut from the same cloth." The words snapped from her jaws as she stepped closer, eyes narrowing as she prepared to take whatever he dished out.

Rahma
 
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What a fucking frustrating answer. "Cut from the same cloth?" What the fuck was that supposed to mean? She was closing now. That bode poorly. Rahma didn't know what this strange woman was capable of, but if she really was like him then the fight that was about to unfold wasn't going to be a pretty one.

"Think before you do something stupid. I'm a fucking Emerald Hand," he warned even as his instincts told him to attack rather than waste time on prattle. He reached a furred and clawed hand into his robe and produced an emblem--that of a Granite Hand, not an Emerald, but one of Medja's nonetheless.

"You fuck with me you're gonna have the Smiter herself after you. And that's assuming I even let you live. Better you get lost!"
 
He was practically barking at her, it only spurred her on. She stepped forward again, his words biting at her like the horse flies that bit at horses hocks.

She paused as he spoke again, his hands grabbing a badge from inside his robe. Her ears tilted forward, and a peal of laughter left her lips, it quickly turned into a small bout of giggles as she visibly relaxed.

"You might be a Hand, but that doesn't affect me much." She spoke between giggles, nearly doubling over. She straightened herself and smiled coyly at him, taunting him with a wink. She pulled a chain up from around her neck, a delicate sapphire hanging from the silver chain.

"You know what this means, don't you?"

Rahma
 
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All the aggression Rahma felt began to deflate and fall flat the moment he laid eyes on the jeweled pendant the strange woman produced. Her laugh certainly didn't do him any favors either, quite handily taking the wind out of his sails. That obnoxious tingling was still there and he retained his shifted form, but his posture relaxed noticeably.

"Sshhhhit."

Rahma's expression evened out and he sighed.

"So...guess we're on the same team, then, eh?"
 
Wisteria could still feel the tingling of unwanted company, but her brain began to rationalize Rahma as a friend and not a foe. Slowly, as she relaxed, she began to return to her normal appearance.

She approached him fully, stopping just short of him. Her ears and tail were held on submissive postures, but she refrained from touching him. She new now that he was stronger than her, and she had reached the conclusion that she would bend to him rather than fight him.

"We are indeed, though we likely would have never met unless by chance, such as today." She tucked her necklace away again, giving him a more genuine smile. "It seems you and I share some traits, don't you think?"

Rahma
 
Even with that dreadful tingling fading and the realization that the two of them were on the same side, Rahma was still Rahma. As the fox woman approached him, he took one very purposeful step back.
"By chance, or if the Mistress put us on assignment together, I guess," he replied, tucking his slowly de-shifting hands into the pockets of his slops and assuming a more relaxed posture. Trying to, anyways. He failed to return the smile.
"Seems we do. Like I said before, name's Rahma. I'm guessing one of those shared traits is not knowing what you are, Miss...?"
He trailed off, expectantly awaiting her name with a raised brow.
 
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Wisteria huffed as he took a step back, he sure was skittish wasn't he? She put her hands on her hips and quirked a brow at him. "Look, if you don't let me get close, how am I supposed to get used to your smell? I'd rather not cause another scene with you like this." Smells were a big part of her world, and she assumed his as well.

"In response to your questions, I have no idea of my origin. You're the first I've seen with similarities close to mine." She tilted her head as he asked her name, oops did she forget? "My apologies, my name is Wisteria. Wis for short if you'd like. My patrons prefer the shorter version." She gave him a devilish grin, waiting for him to make the next move. Again, he was very untrusting. Maybe she was the weird one?

Rahma
 
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"Look, I don't--ugh."

Every instinct in his body wanted to fight or fly in the face of close contact with this woman, especially given that awful, lingering sensation that had still not worked its way out. But if this was her way of pushing through all that, maybe she had the right idea. He didn't have to like it though.

"...Fine."

Though still stiff and awkward in his body language, he relented and stood his ground. How unfortunate it was, then, that she really was just like him, lacking any kind of insight on their origins.
"Yeah, well, 'great' to meet you, Wis..." he trailed off, realizing that eye contact was hard. Even more so with that expression on her face.

"'Patrons?'" he parroted back, an eyebrow cocked.
 
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Wisteria waited ever so patiently for Rahma to sort himself out. In a way she felt bad, yes she understood, that uncomfortable shiver was still, there. It seemed she was much more personable, and relenting when it came to figuring out the next move.

He finally agreed and she grinned wide, stepping into his space. She took in his scent, memorizing it and slowly the threat that he seemed to present dimmed.

Before stepping back, she looked at him wickedly again, eyes sparkling with mischief. She leaned forward, giving him a soft kiss on his nose, a wonk following as she stepped away. Admittedly, she was starting to have fun with him, he was so...stiff and unrelenting.

"The pleasure is all mine, Rahma." A smile still pulled at the corners of her mouth, this was too easy. "Mmyup. I work the streets of Ragash, pulling secrets from those who drop their guard I'm bed."

Rahma
 
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