Kassie has been recovering well in the months since her "accident"; Roho has removed the cast from her arm already, and expects to remove the one from her leg within the next week or two, leaving her free to go … although "where" is not clear. Despite her trepidation about the future, she seemed much cheered by Piper's last visit, and the tales of the Creen he's been training for her.

It's the afternoon before the party in Darkside, and the Creen-catching mongrel is in a wine shop in the Bazaar, surveying the shop's wares while the Gallisian proprietor extols the virtues of one vintage to another customer.

The Gallah squats down and waddles sideways as he inspects the wine racks. His nose sniffs at the bottles as he tries to make sense of them and their contents. ( I shouldn'tget something cheap, but I don't wish to spend all of my savings on a gift. If only they had milk-flavored wine. A cat would surely love such a thing. )

A familiar scent drifts through the open door, as a feline in the robes of a Temple investigator enters the shop. She pauses for a moment near the doorway, nose wrinkled in a faint expression of distaste as she surveys the nearest rack.

Piper pulls himself back up and turns around to greet the newcomer. "Madame Investigator, what a surprise to see you here. Do you have a taste for wine?"

The Khatta turns her head to look at the Gallah, a smile flashing and fading on her gray and black-striped face. "Good day, Mr. Piper. A pleasant surprise, for me at least. I have been meaning to check up on you. I trust you've been well?"

"Yes Madame. I am preparing to buy a gift for a party I am to attend tonight. Do you know anything of wines? I am looking for something that might be pleasing to my host's tastes but will not render me shekel-less." He pulls out a bottle, sniffs at the label and then slides it back in again.

The Temple investigator shakes her head. "I am no sommelier, Mr. Piper. To be honest, I do not like the stuff myself. I will purchase the same one I always do, assuming the shopkeeper still has any." She surveys the rack before her again, whiskers twitching. "I visited your friend, Kassie."

"She has been eager for visitors. I am sure that you made her happy by paying her a visit even if it was just for questioning." The Gallah kneels down and rubs his knee. "Did it go well?"

For a moment, Investigator Faith does not respond, then she answers, "No, it did not. Like most victims of crime in the Darkside or even the Bazaar, she has a curious lapse in memory when it comes to details on her attackers." She brushes the dust off the label of one bottle, her expression still one of distaste.

Piper whines to himself and drops his head. "She was dropped down a shaft and left to be eaten alive by the vermites. Do not think badly of her. I would do all I could to forget such a thing if I was in her place, especially after the hardships she had endured before that moment." His tail wags weakly as though he were trying to coax a similar motion from someone else.

"Yes," the investigator responds in her uninflected voice, "Apparently such a fate is preferable to telling the truth to a Temple investigator." She lifts a bottle from the rack and brushes the dust from it carefully, asking, "Have you had any contact with your … ah … 'friend', Torn-Ear, since we last spoke?"

The Gallah wrings his hands. "No Madame, although I will probably see him tonight. I am preparing to attend a party t the residence of a friend of his, a very nice lady Khatta." His eyes go briefly dreamy.

"Tonight?" The investigator blinks. "A party? Where?"

"At the corner of Shadow's Run and Wolf Road. All of Misseur Torn-Ear's friends will be going, if I understood Mam'selle Cynthia correctly. That is why I am here, to find a bottle of wine to bring along with me as a gift." He pulls out a greenish bottle with a plainly printed label and wags it around to demonstrate his point.

Faith has removed her writing tablet from its case at her side, and she notes down the address. "I … see." She lifts her gaze to study the Gallah. "And you were invited by this … ah … Cynthia?" she hazards.

The Gallah nods, his ears flipping up and down at the motion. "Yes Madame. One week ago. She was very pleased with the work I did while I was clearing out the Creens in Little Babel."

"I see," she repeats. "Speaking of Creens – I also heard that you captured a silver one a few days ago. Is that correct?"

"Yes and no, Madame." Piper pulls himself up. "I have befriended it, but I could not bring myself to keep it in a cage. It would probably come to me if I came to it and called, but it is not in my possession and is still quite wild."

The gray-tiger Khatta shifts her arms, then takes the bottle of wine from where she had tucked it beneath one arm to allow her to write, and sets it on the counter, before positioning her hands to write again. "What prompted you to," pause, "befriend it, as you say?" she inquires.

The dog smiles lopsidedly and flicks one of his ears. "Dame April at the Inn where I live spoke to me using such tones of wonder that I wished to see it for myself. When I did, I wished for a closer look as it was rather shy. Originally my intentions were to capture it and sell it to a breeder or present it to someone as a gift … but then I was told it was a mythical creature, and it trusted me in such a way that I could not bring myself to do anything but set it free again."

While Piper speaks, Faith jots down notes onto her tablet. At his final words, her pencil stills, and she looks over the tablet at him, fixing him with an even gaze as if to judge his sincerity. After a long moment of silence, she says, "You actually do mean that, don't you?" The emphasis on her words is at odds with her previous mannerisms.

"I do not understand the question, Madame Investigatrix." The Gallah droops again. "Why would I say something and not mean it? If that were the case I would say nothing at all."

The Khatta tilts her head to one side, mouth slightly open as if to speak, but she says nothing. After another long moment of looking at him, she closes her tablet and tucks it back into its case. "Mr. Piper, please do two things for me. First, do not mention to anyone that you told me of your friends' party."

"Yes Madame." Piper puts the green bottle away and draws out one with rose tinted glass.

"Thank you, Mr. Piper. Second – don't ever change." She clears her throat, and calls out to the shopkeeper, "Franco?" with a gesture to the bottle on the counter. The vintner hurries over and begins writing out a receipt while she lays a handful of coins beside the wine.

"Madame?" Piper licks his nose and shrugs. He resumes sniffing at bottles again.

Franco places the bottle into a velvet bag sized to fit it, and draws the gold tassels snugly around its neck, tying them in place before returning the package to the Investigator. She nods to the Gallisian shopkeeper, then turns to Piper again. "Be careful, Mr. Piper. That's a dangerous area you will be going to, as I hope you are aware. Farewell." She moves to exit the shop.

"Bonjour Madame," Piper barks, waving his farewells. He bends down and finally chooses a bottle of wine; it has a pretty design of roses on the label and won't cost him so much that he won't be starving for the next week. He waves to Franco, imitating the Khatta's gesture.

A large set of double doors marks the entrance from the street. The building's few windows are all shuttered, which don't make it look any more hospitable.

The Gallah hesitantly reaches out and knocks on the doors, his tail keeps trying to hide itself between his legs. He licks at his knuckles and perks his ears for any noise inside.

The door cracks open a fraction, revealing a beady Kavi eye. "Who're you?" the ferret asks gruffly.

Piper almost jumps as the door opens. "I am Misseur Piper, the animal exterminator. Mam'selle Cynthia invited me to a party she is having here tonight?"

The single visible eye regards the mongrel dubiously for a few seconds, then pulls the door open wide enough to admit him. "Right. C'mon in."

"Thank you, Misseur." The Gallah forces himself to smile and walks in, clutching the wine bottle to his chest. ( She probably needs the security here. )

Inside the warehouse, the huge main room has been spruced up with draped cloths of silk, zolk, and velvet, in sea hues of green and blue, while squat white plaster pillars scattered about the room play host to a numerous glowing candles. Rather than furniture, the room features dozens of large colorful pillows, using similar hues as the draped cloths, and likely sewn from the same materials. Along the far wall rests the only other furnishing, a long silk-covered table heaped with an array of different food items. A handful of Kavis, dressed in blues and greens like the one who answered the door appear to be serving as waiters.

Although Piper has arrived only a little early, few other guests seem to be there yet. A black and white male Skreek, clothed in black leather pants and a black cotton shirt, sprawls alone on a few of the cushions, sipping at a drink. A pair of felines in street garb pick over the food at the buffet, chatting with each other. The hostess stands at the center of a small knot of males – a Rhian, a Gallah, a Jupani, and a human, talking animatedly.

Piper sniffs at the air and smiles, relaxing considerably. He tucks the bottle under his arm and tries to find a space to peek through in the circle surrounding Cynthia and try to capture her attention for a moment.

The other guests don't seem to pay much attention to the newcomer as he sidles up to the small cluster. The males' attire ranges from casual to semi-formal, though none of them approach Cynthia's garb for opulence. She wears a dress of light blue satin fitted so closely it invites one to wonder how she breathes. The sleeveless garment has a high collar and a long, narrow oval cutout from throat nearly to navel, crossed by a series of shimmering silver chains which keep the dress in place, but do nothing to conceal the expanse of brushed gray fur exposed by the opening. The stem of an embroidered dark blue rose wends from the back of her calves, around her right leg, across her stomach just below the cutout, to bloom over her left breast. Her long hair drapes over her right shoulder, carefully arranged with a silver comb to leave the back of her neck bare. A bracelet of glittering stones circles one wrist, while matching earrings dangle from the lower edges of her ears.

The Gallah simply gapes at the feline for a bit. He has never seen a lady dressed in such a way in his life … at least not so close. He finally fights to swallow down the lump forming in his throat and gain his balance. He nervously waves to Cynthia. "Bonjour, Mam'selle."

The feline hostess sips from her glass of wine, nodding her head to something the human has said, while Piper approaches. She mews at the greeting, glancing around before she spots the mongrel. "Piper!" She looks pleased to see him, smiling and wriggling her shoulders, making the chains along her ribcage shimmer. "So glad you could make it." She reaches out with her free hand to touch the back of his.

Piper's tongue wags out happily as he almost loses himself in the touch, but the weight of the bottle in his free hand brings him back and he gently thrusts the bottle forward. "C'est pour vous, belle dame."

"Ooo!" She accepts the bottle with a mew of delight. "Piper, sugar, you shouldn't have! How sweet." She lifts up the present to study the label, smiling. She leans forward and whispers to her newest guest, "We'll be sure and drink it tonight – I just know I'll love it." She finishes with a wink and turns back to her other guests. "Piper, let me introduce you around. This is Jonathan Kinkade," she says, gesturing to the human, "one of Torn-Ear's closest associates." She winks in a friendly manner at the man, who nods in return to the mongrel.

"A pleasure meeting you, Misseur Kinkade." The Gallah smiles to the human, his tail still wagging madly at the Khatta's reaction to his gift.

"And this is Hammerclaw – he's done some good works for us, too, just like you," she says, gesturing with her wine glass to the equine. "The Jupani here is Silent's cousin, Sharpeye, and this Gallah is Louis Viento," she finishes, smiling to each of them in turn.

"A pleasure meeting all of you, I'm grateful to have been invited." The Gallah pulls his tongue back into his mouth politely. "Will Misseur Torn-Ear show up tonight?"

"He'll be here soon, sweetie, don't you worry. He's just always busy, the silly dear," Cynthia asides to the Gallah. "Everyone, this is Piper – quite the exterminator, as I'm sure you've all heard!" She accompanies this last with another of her languid winks, and the other men all grin.

Piper mimics the smile, seeing it as simple camaraderie. "Bonjour tous."

Hammerclaw gives Piper a friendly slap on the back. "Good to meet you, too, kid," he says heartily, while the wolf and dog acknowledge his introduction with polite nods. Louis Viento, who could pass for a Rottweiler to someone unfamiliar with Gallisian breeds, looks a trifle surly at Piper's use of Gallisian, but the feline makes another pleased mew.

"Aooomph!" The smaller Gallah pats his shoulder. "You seem to have several people to talk to; I should not be a distraction and add another voice to the confusion. I simply wished to stop by and say hello and present you with my gift. I fear I have no understanding of wines, so it might not taste as nice as it looks."

"Oh, sweetie, I know it'll be great." She gives him another of her small pleased mews. "Don't run off yet … mmm … Let's see… " Cynthia gives a thoughtful pause, tilting her head to one side. "Oh, you should meet Bluemoon, too!" She shifts position, moving her hands as if to take Piper's, before realizing that both of her own are occupied. "Be a love and hold this for a moment?" she asks sweetly, pressing the bottle of wine back into the mongrel's hand.

The Gallah smiles. "I would be honored to meet more of your guests, mon ami. Most of the people here are strangers to me, I'm afraid."

"We'll just have to fix that, then, won't we, sugar?" the Khatta says gaily. With a little wave and an "I'll be right back!" to the assembled men, the feline slips her freed hand about the crook of Piper's elbow and steers him over toward the black-clad Skreek. The rat glances up from his glass at their approach, an indifferent look on his face, and doesn't rise from the cushions. "Piper, this is Bluemoon. Bluemoon, you remember Torn-Ear telling you about Piper, right?"

The Skreek gives a slight nod in acknowledgement, and takes another sip of his wine.

The Gallah licks at his nose. "Bonjour, Misseur Bluemoon." He shifts from foot to foot nervously, unsure at how to react to the Skreek's silence. "You have … a very interesting name, Misseur."

The Skreek's smile is so short-lived Piper wonders if he might have imagined it. "Suits me," is his only reply.

"If it is not rude of me to ask, what sort of work do you do for Misseur Torn-Ear?" Piper continues to try and keep the small-talk going.

Bluemoon takes another studied sip of wine. "Acquisitions," he answers at last.

Cynthia twitches her whiskers and flicks her ears, off-put by Bluemoon's rudeness. "Don't mind him, Piper," she stage-whispers to the Gallah, "He just doesn't like parties, and I told him he had to be here." She strokes the inside of the mongrel's arm reassuringly. "So it's not you."

"Ah." Piper licks his nose. "At least the food is free, mon ami? Nothing is so bad if you are fed because of it."

The Skreek pauses with his glass halfway to his lips, and lowers it. He lays his head back against a cushion and stares at Piper for a long, uncomfortable moment, like a person contemplating a new and different species of bug. He quirks one eyebrow, and at last permits himself a brief smile. "True," he agrees, and drinks.

Piper's tail wags all the more as he feels proud of himself for bringing out this little revelation. He looks back over to Cynthia and smiles. "Do the colors on the guards stand for anything, or are they just decoration?"

Stamping one dainty, slipper-clad foot, Cynthia rolls her eyes at the Skreek. "C'mon, sweetie, let's get some food in you." She pokes Piper's stomach playfully with one digit. "Guards?" she queries, as she takes his arm again and steers him towards the buffet table. "Oh, you mean the servants. No, it's just so they'll match. What do you think?" She uses her other hand, still holding a wineglass, in a sweeping motion to indicate the decor.

"I think you have a house to rival that of Gallisian nobility, Mam'selle." The Gallah smiles and covers his stomach with one hand, stifling a giggle. "Do you have any difficulty with the 'Shadow Wolves' that seem to have territory here? I could not help but notice the graffiti."

She mews with pleasure at the compliment. "Oh, thank you" she says. "You're so sweet. I did it all myself, too. Well, almost all, anyway. It was all my idea." Her hips sway as she walks, the motion causing the length of her left leg to be exposed through the thigh-high slit in the dress's skirt. When he mentions difficulty with the Shadow Wolves, she comes to a sudden halt, shoulders quivering with mirth, and she begins to giggle.

The mutt shakes himself out of a near trance at watching the Khatta move. "Mam'selle?"

Cynthia covers her mouth with the back of one hand, stifling her giggles. "Oh, Piper, sugar – we are the Shadow Wolves," she gets out at last. "Didn't you know?"

"No I didn't." Piper scratches at his ear in confusion. "The name made me think they were a street gang, no offence intended, mon ami. Why do you go by it?"

The Khatta's ears flick back and forth, and she slips her hand around Piper's arm. "We-ell," she drawls out languidly, starting forward again, "I guess it would have to be because we are a street gang." She glances sidelong at the mongrel, then winks at him. "But we won't be forever. We're goin' places," she promises.

The Gallah blinks several times in succession. "I never would have thought. You all have been so nice to me, and the work has been good. I must say that I wish more street gangs were like you if such is the case. I can still hardly believe it."

Cynthia wriggles her shoulders in amusement. "You've been listening to that Temple paranoia guff," she tells the mongrel, stroking the back of his arm lightly. "They don'tknow drek about what Darkside is really like. You gotta have friends here, y'know what I mean?" She takes the bottle of wine from his hand and gives it to a "uniformed" Kavi standing beside it. "Pour me a glass of this, sugar?" she tells the servant.

"Ah. There were similar things in Gallis, although most ofit was run by Suprieur le Chien." Piper wags his tail a bit slower now. "So what sort of work do you do?"

The silver-grey feline finishes her current drink, and set the empty glass down. "Me? This 'n that. I'm an every-woman. Mostly, I'm nice to people." She offers another languid wink and smile to the Gallah, then notes his flagging tail. She reaches out to touch the back of his hand lightly. "Wassamatter, sugar?"

"Nothing, Madame. I am simply a bit surprised by it all. What was it that made you take an interest in me? I never thought that a street gang would have need for an animal exterminator." He studies the decorations carefully.

"We-ell, we did. What, you think street gangs don't have trouble with vermin? Maybe the vermites leave us all alone out of professional courtesy?" She licks her teeth and offers a half-smile, her tone still bantering.

Piper chuckles, warming up a few degrees. "That is true. I suppose that Mam'selle Kassie was a good luck charm for me when Torn-Ear introduced himself to me to ask about her. Thanks to him and his work I have gotten a great deal of new business during the slow season, and I have never been asked to do anything illegal. You have treated me more than wonderful."

Cynthia smiles warmly at Piper again, and accepts the glass of wine from the returning Kavi with a soft "thank you." "Exactly. 'Cause that's how you treat your friends – good, and that way they stay friends. You can never have too many friends, right?"

"Very true, Mam'selle. I am sorry for thinking bad of you when I heard you say 'street gang'." The Gallah picks up a finger sandwich and munches on it. "So what is this you said about future plans?"

"Plans to make more friends, of course! That's what it's all about, mmm?" She mewls cutely. "See, Torn-Ear figures what we're really in the business of doing is solving problems. That's how you take care of each other, right? By helping out with your problems. So we want to get to know more people – people like you – who can help us with different kinds of problems. 'Cause when you've got trouble and you go to your friends, you don't want 'em to say, 'Oh, drat, I can't do anything about that.' You want them to say, 'Hey, I know who can make it right.' So the more stuff we can make right, the better off we all are. Right?"

The Gallah smiles and wags his tail with full vigor now. "That sounds very much like something I would enjoy being a part of." He pauses and chews on his lip thoughtfully. "Although the name 'Shadow Wolves' still sounds a bit dark."

As she listens to his reply, the feline does her characteristic shoulder-wriggle, and the candlelit reflections on the satin of her dress shimmer as her body shifts with the movement, while her tail swings from side to side. She giggles at his final comment, and leans forward to whisper, "It's dark so people won't give us any trouble to start with." She flicks her tongue across her teeth. "The only thing better than fixing a problem is not having one to start with."

Piper feels a shiver shoot down his spine at the Khatta's movements as his eyes glaze over for a moment. "Of … of course, Mam'selle. This is probably why I have never been more than a freelance exterminator. I just do not have good business sense." ( If I ever meet the tailor for that dress I think I will kiss their feet… )

"Then we'll just have to help you with that, mmm? What're friends for?" She purrs, taking a sip from her glass of wine, and purring louder. "Mmmm, delicious! Ooo, I'd better get back to the others. You help yourself to whatever you want, okay, Piper? Lots to choose from!" She gives him a farewell pat on the wrist, and turns to return to the males she had left earlier.

"Ayez bonsoir," the Gallah barks and mechanically starts to fill a plate full of food. His eyes follow the path of the cat and don't even glance at the piece of dinnerware as he accidentally serves himself part of the decorative centerpiece.

While Cynthia and Piper talked, the room's population has gradually grown as more people filtered in. The assortment as a whole does have a rather shady cast to it. Most of those present are male, of all species and ages, and dress varies from tattered street garb to Temple-best. The females at the party seem, by and large, attached to one male or another, and they mostly are young and attractive, and typically better-dressed than the average male. The feline's hips sway as she saunters off, tail swinging in counterpoint, and she makes frequent pauses as she traverses the warehouse floor, greeting her new guests enthusiastically.

A Kavi servant snorts at Piper, and waves his hand in front of the dog's face. "Hey there," he hisses, "Watch whatcher doin'."

Piper yips and replaces the decoration. "So sorry, Misseur. I should have been paying more attention." He grabs a small wedge of cheese and a few other snacks and shufflesoff to a spot near Bluemoon to crowd-watch.

The Skreek doesn't acknowledge Piper's presence, but doesn't object to it, either. He appears to be on his fourth glass of wine, judging by the number of empties on the squat pillar beside him. As the mongrel watches the partygoers, he notices a slight disturbance near the front doors.

The Gallah pauses in mid-bite, pricking his ears up and sniffing curiously at the noise.

A Kavi servant ducks out of the way of the door as Torn-Ear storms in, his cloak flaring out behind him like a dark cloud, Silent shadowing a few steps behind him. "CYN!" Torn-Ear roars.

Piper swallows his bite, shrinking down at the noise. "Misseur Bluemoon, does Misseur Torn-Ear usually greet Mam'selle Cynthia in such a way?"

The feline rushes to the scarred wolf's sides, her ears flattened against her head. She places a hand on his arm in a conciliatory manner, but the Jupani shrugs it off, then seizes her by the wrist and half-drags her in the general direction of Piper and Bluemoon. "Poor chit," Bluemoon mutters into his drink, watching the scene. He holds one finger up to Piper as the two approach.

The Gallah's tail once again tries to find a hiding place between his legs but he fights it back, not wanting to appear completely cowed by something he doesn't even understand yet. For now he just waits quietly and fidgets with his plate.

The Jupani gives grim smiles and nods towards the guests who offer nervous smiles to the Shadow Wolf, and quickly hustle out of his way. Cynthia keeps up a brave face, smiling reassuringly and waving to everyone to keep on as she struggles to keep up with her captor. It's soon apparent that they're not actually headed for Bluemoon, as they sweep past the two. Silent opens a door in the wall nearby, and the feline calls out, "We'll just be a minute!" as Torn-Ear snatches her inside.

Piper swallows and leans back against the wall, resting one ear on it. "Did Mam'selle Cynthia do something wrong?" he whispers to the Skreek.

The large wolf takes station outside the door, looking stoic and glaring at anyone who ventures towards him. In moments, conversation resumes, a battalion of whispered queries and theories on what that was all about. "Vhai," Bluemoon answers Piper, his voice so low Piper can barely hear it, "did she ever. I told her he'd be pissed, but did she listen?" He shakes his head. "Stupid kid."

The Gallah slides down to put himself in closer whispering range of the Skreek. "What did she do?"

Indistinct words can occasionally be made out, coming from the closed door. Bluemoon holds one finger up to Piper again, his ears swiveled back to listen. "… Dagh… " and "… thinking… " in a man's voice, then the higher pitch female saying "… cost… " and "… rent… " The pauses between those words Piper can make out suggest further conversation too muted to be understood.

Piper bites his lip, a basic idea of what occurred forming in his head. He pats his pockets and then quietly munches on the rest of his food.

There's a faint crack, as of something hard hitting flesh, and a pained meow. The Skreek winces, one eye closing most of the way. "Ouch." He takes another sip from his drink.

The Gallah stifles a sympathetic whine and finally just sighs to himself. He puts his plate down and shuffles towards Silent at the door.

As soon as he starts towards the door, Silent fixes the mongrel with a warning glare, his arms folded across his chest. He bears his teeth on one side in a snarl.

Piper swallows and carefully slides a hand into his pocket, drawing out his money pouch. "Misseur, I apologize for disturbing … but … could you please give this to Misseur Torn-Ear."

The wolf growls, snatches the purse with the barest hint of puzzlement on his face, then waves the Gallah away.

"Thank you, Misseur." The Gallah turns and makes his way to the exit. He has no desire to see what Cynthia looks like after suffering a blow from the massive Jupani.

A minute or two passes, and whatever happens behind the door is too quiet to be heard from without, as Piper makes his way towards the exit. Before he reaches it, the door to the office opens again. Torn-Ear emerges, his cloak off, his appearance completely the opposite of when he entered. He seems relaxed, beaming a smile to all present. A shaken, but apparently unharmed Cynthia shadows him out of the office. She offers reassuring smiles all around, trying to regain some of her own composure.

Piper pauses on his way to the exit. His tail sways in conflict to check and make sure Cynthia is all right or to leave before something else happens. His conscience gets the better of him and he turns around again, slowly heading towards the Khatta. ( Perhaps I heard wrong, perhaps it was just a misunderstanding. I shouldn't think badly of someone over something I barely heard through a wall… )

The Jupani leader is mingling with some of the guests, chatting amiably, while the feline hovers in his shadow, a touch nervously, when Piper approaches. She offers him an atypically shy smile as he draws near.

The Gallah sniffs at the air, trying to detect the scent of blood. "Is everything all right, Mam'selle?"

Cynthia's scent contains the tang of fear, but not blood, and closer inspection shows her snugly fitted dress is a touch rumpled, but she does not look hurt. She smiles a bit more naturally, and nods to Piper. "Just fine, sugar. You weren't leavin' yet, were you?"

"I… I didn't know what to do," the mutt responds. "Leaving just seemed to be the proper thing at the time. Perhaps I am too much of a coward to be one of your friends."

The Khatta leans forward to pat his wrist. "Hey there, sugar," she says gently, "I'm okay. I did somethin' stupid and it got Torn-Ear upset, but ya know, it passes. See, a few minutes of trouble and everything's fine again." Cynthia gives another reassuring smile. "And now I know better, so it won't happen again."

The Jupani catches his name, and turns from the people he was talking with to look at Piper. "Heh, good to see you, Piper. Dagh, Cyn really did get everyone to come." His smile has a wry cast to it. "How've you been?"

Piper swallows and forces a smile on his face. "I have been just fine, Misseur Torn-Ear. I am sorry if my visit has caused a strain upon your home. Your partner has my shekel pouch and it should help you with your expenses. Business has been good for me and it is the least I can do to repay you."

Torn-ear tilts his head to one side and screws up his face, looking quizzical. "Huh?" he says intelligently. "Hey, Cyn, Piper doesn't owe us any money, does he?"

"It is a gift, Misseur, not a payment." The Gallah waves his hands.

The Jupani scratches his head, still looking puzzled, while Silent hands him the purse.

After opening the purse, the Jupani's bearing stiffens slightly, and he glances at Piper. "Hey, kid, you mind comin' into my office for a sec? Heh, don't worry, I ain't gonna yell at ya," he adds hastily, with a grin around to the others. They share in it a little nervously.

"Not at all, Misseur." Piper glances sidelong at Cynthia and then takes her place as the wolf's shadow.

Cynthia offers an encouraging smile and a pat on the back to Piper as he follows Torn-Ear into the office.

The back office is a small room made more cramped by piled chairs, folded tables, and other rickety furniture haphazardly shoved into it. Torn-Ear closes the door behind them and leans against it with a heavy sigh. "Now, what's all this money about, Pipe?" he asks in a low voice.

The Gallah sniffs at the air again. "I hope I've not offended you, Misseur Torn-Ear." He droops, shoulders, ears, and tail. "I overheard some of the words from your argument and I realized that this whole affair might be costing you a great deal. I have that money because of you and I am very grateful, so I would like to give it to you as a gift both in thanks for your help and to lighten this party's costs. It is nothing more than that."

The lupine male scrambles about the jammed-in furniture to get to a comfortable, if well-broken-in chair, and settles himself in with a whoof. "Dagh, I really did scrud this up," he says after Piper finishes speaking. "Poor Cyn." He gestures for Piper to have a seat, as well; there are a few chairs about which are still positioned to be sat in.

Piper obligingly seats himself in the proffered chair. "Mam'selle Cynthia told me that your organization is about friends helping each other … well … I am a friend who is offering his help. That is what this is all about, is it not?"

"Heh, she told you that?" Torn-Ear smiles. "She ain't always as dumb as she acts." He tosses the pouch back to Piper lightly. "That is what we're all about, but, look, we both misunderstood. This shin-dig ain't so expensive as it looks – the kitten rented everything but the food, heh, so it's all goin' back tomorrow. And it ain't that we ain't got the money. I just told her, ya know, don't go all out with this thing." He gives a deprecating laugh. "You tell a girl "don't go all out" and she thinks something like, "Oh, better cancel the twenty-piece orchestra, then, and use silver platters instead of gold." He grins contagiously.

The Gallah cracks a weak grin. "I apologize if I over-reacted, Misseur. I usually try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Although if you need even one shekel from me to help you are welcome to it. You wouldn't owe me anything and I would not tell a soul."

The Jupani chuckles. "You're a good kid, Piper. I'm glad I met you." He starts to climb to his feet, then lets himself sink back into the chair again, gazing at the Gallisian. "Hey, you're not in any kind of trouble yourself, are you? I heard some investigator was nosing around asking you questions, a couple weeks ago."

"No, Misseur." Piper shakes his head. "She wished to know about Kassie's accident in the sewers and I told her what I knew. There has been no trouble in regards to me."

"She was askin' about Kassie?" He scratches his head. "Sure took 'em long enough. That's Temple justice for ya, two months after somebody nearly gets killed and they finally decide to look into it. She find anything out?"

The Gallah shrugs. "She wrote a great deal down but I do not know if anything came of it. I think she just wishes to file a report. Perhaps someone at the Hospice has managed to get Temple aid for Kassie's bills and they need to investigate it first?"

Torn-Ear laughs. "Temple aid for a poor street kid? They'd sooner push her into the sewers themselves!" He snarls. "Heck, it probably was some Temple brat or noble did it, and that's why they don't want to really investigate it."

"Perhaps, although it is so far long ago that it does not matter who did it. I would like nothing more than to see the person who left Mam'selle to such a fate punished, but I am also simply glad that she will be all right." Piper licks his nose and studies the knocked over chairs on the floor.

The Jupani grunts, following Piper's gaze to the furniture awkwardly jammed into the office. "Well, we should get back to the party, eh? Only thing worse than Cyn spending too much on it would be me stomping around making sure no one could enjoy it." He grins as he gets to his feet. "Oh … the investigator. She ask about me at all?"

The Gallah sucks one of his lips in as he tries to remember. "I think she did, but only very lightly. She was mostly concerned about Mam'selle Kassie."

The wolf nods. "The Temple people always give Darksiders a hard time," he grumbles, sidling around some stacked tables. "They gotta hassle somebody, and they figure it better be us, since we're too poor to matter." A snort. "And Heaven help us if we show signs of not being properly poverty-stricken – only thing worse than a broke Darksider is one with money."

"Investigatrix Faith did not seem particularly colored towards anyone from what I gathered. She was quite polite to me and even tolerated one of my black-out spells. I suppose I am lucky that she was the one assigned to the incident instead of one of the types you speak of." Piper half-grins.

He makes a noncommittal noise. "Maybe she's different, maybe not." Torn-Ear pauses by the door. "Hey, Piper? You be careful talkin' to that investigator, now. Or any Temple people. They're trouble, and plenty of it, even when they act all polite-like. Don't get me wrong – I don't want you to get in trouble for givin' 'em lip or refusin' to answer questions. But don't volunteer anything … and try not to tell 'em anything about me." He gives another short laugh. "Or about stuff like this party."

( Oh dear. ) The Gallah nods. "I will do my best, Misseur."