It's a nice day in the Bazaar. Not that unusual, since the weather doesn't change terribly much on Rephidim compared to the surface world, but there you have it. Here and there, in vacant lots or in the shadows (or balconies) of abandoned buildings, booths and tents are set up, banners are suspended, and a few hawkers make use of wagons and stages to promote their wares.

Musicians play on the street corners, accepting shekels tossed into their hats. That seems to be the currency … though a certain five-tailed fox visiting the Bazaar hasn't yet managed to acquire any.

Francisco idly wanders past the stalls looking for a new shirt, since his current one which he is wearing still has the back shredded. There are a couple that catch his interest, but all he can do is window-shop for the moment.

The fox's collection of tails, as per usual, draws stares. But then, there are plenty of strange creatures to be seen in this city who would draw plenty of stares back on Earth, for sure. An inexplicable number of them resemble various Earth animals crossed with humanoid forms. The ones with truly alien shapes are the minority. So far, the fox hasn't seen any humans, despite the earlier indication that, yes, they can be found on this world.

A bat squeaks, "Bright, friendly colors! Don't settle for drab fabrics. Only buy the best! Colors that SHOUT your presence to the world!"

The Kitsune's ears prick up with interest as nothing he has seen yet has really caught his eye, and he turns to try and locate the source to the advertisment.

The squeaky voice belongs to a blue bat … probably that he has dyed his fur that color, but, you never know … maybe bats COME in that color here. His booth comes in that color as well, and every other one – a rainbow explosion of hues and zig-zagging, swirling, grab-your-attention-and-never-let-go shapes.

With a visible grin as he notices the vendor, Francisco wanders over to the stall to check out the wares the bat has to offer.

The bat is offering bolts of fabric, dyed in colors so bright that, in this sunlight, it almost hurts the eyes to look at them. "Hello there! OH! I see you are a man of taste! Is there anything I could help you with this good day?"

The fox pauses from looking at the fabrics, looking up at the merchant. With a slight sigh he replies, "Oh, I wish. Though I'm restricted to just looking for the moment. Perhaps when I have some money I will come back – that is if you here regularly?"

The bat frowns at the mention of a lack of currency, but recovers at the thought of a returning customer. "Ah yes. I am Astaro, Purveyor of Fine and Nicely Colored Goods! I am always in the Bazaar. But if you see something you like, buy it quickly! No two bolts are alike. Patterns change daily."

A hunch-backed wolf hobbles by, leaning heavily on a cane. He looks to the bat, the wares, and the fox and his shirt. "Ah. Not another blind Zerda, are ye?"

Francisco turns to look at the wolf. "Beg your pardon? Zerda? And I most certainly am not blind, thank you. Perfect 20-20 vision, actually."

Francisco turns back to the vendor and enquires about prices for when he comes back.

The wolf says, "Oh! My pardon. So you're deliberately tasteless. Well," he wheeze-coughs. "Suit yerself!"

The bat vendor gasps, looking offended, then delivers Francisco a list of prices in shekels … but for context, he'll have a lot more shopping to do to figure out whether these prices are high or low.

The kitsune faces the wolf again, having raised an eyebrow. He contemplates a retort, but decides not. Some jokes wear thin – even on Kitsunes.

The wolf hmms. "Not a Zerda, eh? So, that means you must be a gen-yoo-ine Fox, right? An Exile?"

Francisco's eyes narrow slightly and demands of the wolf, "What do you know of my being exiled?"

"Exile," the wolf repeats. "Well then, I guess that settles it. Lots of those popping up lately. Especially the Foxes. I guess those are popular this time of year… "

The wolf squints some more, then reaches back to scratch at his shoulder, wobbling on his cane. "Eh. Need some flea dip."

One of the beings coming down the street stands out from the other ones. It's not her appearance, which is that of an obsidian furred feline with hooves instead of feet, and horns coming out of her forehead. The lack of a tail is also not particularily distinctive. Rather, its how her brightly coloured uniform starkly contrasts the dark mood she is in, as if she had a personal stormcloud following her around.

Francisco steps back a little from the wolf, slowly as so not to make a point. Fleas he can do without for the moment. "What do seasons have to do with being exiled?"

The wolf squints at Francisco, then wheezes, "Well, it'un, there's seasons for everything, ya know. Seems now it's seasons for Exiles and Foxes. Yep. Now, I remember, long time ago … uhm … uh … Nevermind."

The strange black feline grumbles to herself, and carrys a dozen brightly coloured flowers wrapped in a sheaf of paper. One of her ears flicks as she draws nearer, and hears the word 'Exile'. She glowers at the kitsune and wolf.

The wolf looks back at the feline. "Oh! Now there's an Exile for ya. You can tell. My thumb twitches anytime an Exile comes by. Yup."

Hmming at the possibility of there being an open season for foxes, Francisco follows the gaze of the wolf to the odd feline.

Meanwhile, some foppish-looking poodles walk by, looking to be young adults, in a cluster, accompanied by a couple of lupine guards. One of them notices the five-tailed kitsune, points rudely, and the others look as well, some raising eyebrows with keen interest. They start chattering amongst themselves.

The fox notices them out of the corner of his eye, and simply smiles back at them with a slight nod.

The feline glares back, and it becomes obvious just how unlike she is from the other ones seen so far. Her muzzle is shaped a little strangely, and her eyes are completely black. Her expression is a cross between a squint and a snarl, and she does not seem happy at the attention she is recieving, "Zsofi is not a laughing subject! You will stop staring at Zsofi now."

The poodles weren't looking at Zsofi before, but they are now. And, they "obligingly" laugh and stare, most probably thinking themselves quite clever.

Francisco assumes that those words are not for him, as he was not staring, not in any way laughing.

The old wolf looks back to Francisco. "Ah. These Exiles and their attitudes. Tut tut." He rolls his eyes.

The feline spins and snarls! Shaking the flowers at the poodles as if they were something more deadly, "You will not laugh! Zsofi will pull your spines out by your tail and use them to brush hair! Zsofi is not a joke! Armies used to tremble at Zsofi's name. I know you all lies, this all an illusion. You put bugs in Zsofi head, and they eating out of skull."

The poodles stop laughing. One of them says, "Uhm … I wasn't looking at you, really." Another says, "No." A third adds, "Just the Fox, ma'am."

The old wolf chortles. "Bugs in … skull? *KOFF* *SNICKER* Armies! *SNORT* Pull out your … *HEE* spines?" His body shakes, his cane providing a flimsy support.

"Well," says Francisco to the wolf in a sotto voice, "perhaps some'exiles'."

The wolf nods solemnly to Francisco.

The black almost-feline keeps glaring at the poodles as they shut up, then hearing the old wolf's words she bristles again, and growls!

Francisco continues to ignore the poodles. ( Even back home, they have the air of stuck up spoilt kids – no change here ) O o . he thinks.

The old wolf looks back at the feline and says, "Hello there, missy!" He waves, smiling.

"You will tremble and kneel before Zsofi! You will bow down and show respect or Zsofi will use your skin as tamborine." The black felid snarls at the wolf. Closer now, the bandages on her hands, wrists, legs, and a few other places become obvious. "Zsofi demand you end trick now!"

"What trick, missy?" the wolf replies, smiling, showing that he's missing several teeth. He nudges Francisco with his free elbow, winking.

Francisco perks an ear slightly? "Err – I wouldn't get her anymore upset," he advises the wolf.

"THIS LIE!" Zsofi yowls, stamping a hoof so hard against the ground that sparks fly from it. "This illusion! You not exist. It trick to try break Zsofi's mind. Zsofi does not believe! Zsofi will explode your heart and use your eyeballs as teabags!"

The wolf momentarily takes a step back, then says, "Ooo. Gotta give her a point for creativity."

Francisco nods quietly, trying to work out what is this 'trick' that the hooved feline is on about.

The obsidian cat growls and stabs her hands out in a squeezing motion, her face contorted in a snarl of rage. As she stands several feet from the old wolf, its hard to determine just what she meant to accomplish, aside from destroying her bundle of flowers. Zsofi's expression goes from one of anger and glee, to one of confusion, then back to rage.

The wolf blinks a few times, then wheezes, "Pardon me. Is that supposed to be an obscene gesture from your world? Or are you picking invisible pala-fruits?"

The kitsune *coughs* in an effort to remind the wolf of his advice.

"Where your heart exploding was! There was supposed to be heart of wolf exploding out of chest. Ahh!" She stomps at the ground again, casting more blue sparks from her dark hoof. "You are not alive! You are not real. You would be dead if so, because Zsofi have the power! Cannot steal Zsofi power, this is all trick!"

"Oh," says the wolf.

Zsofi keeps glaring, as if the wolf's heart might explode if she just hates him a little harder.

Francisco, unable to even sense magic anymore, is confused by the whole situation.

The wolf's eyes go wide. He clutches at his chest. "*GAK!* *GRK!* *WHEEZE* *CHOKE*" He staggers, stumbling against the five-tailed fox, grabbing at him. "*GRK!* *GURGLE*" He slides down, slumping to the street.

The obsidian cat smiles sweetly as the wolf expires, "See! You will learn respect for Zsofi in the second before you chest explode!"

The wolf, lying on the ground, glares back at Zsofi. "Do you MIND? I'm busy dying dramatically. Now then … *GRK* *GAHHHHH* *GASP!*" He makes a come here gesture to Francisco, gasping.

Looking at the wolf on the street, he frowns at the cat, but kneels down next to the wolf.

The wolf coughs, then gasps, "I know who did it! I know who REALLY masterminded the whole thing! It was … it was … *cough hack* It was the … *gasp* … It was … *wheeze*" His tongue lolls, and his head rolls sideways. "*rattle*"

The fox cocks his head to one side? "Did it? Did what?" he tries to ask the wolf.

The wolf only lies there, eyes glazed.

However, the wolf's chest still rises and falls. And then he blinks.

Francisco lays the wolf down gently to the street, then looks up to the cat with a 'have you quite finished' glare.

Zsofi's triumphant expression goes straight to humiliation, the crunched bundle of flowers dropping to her side. Her ears lie flat against her head, and she growls with a blunted edge on her voice. "Zsofi used to sink cities into desert. Zsofi used to blast away whole mountains. Zsofi now delivers flowers. Zsofi is not here! This is not happening to Zsofi."

Francisco's ears perk in disbelief. "Not happening to you?" he gasps out. "More like you happened to him." The kitsune has felt that the wolf has not expired, far from it, so decides to play along as it looks like this cat has little magic if any. Certainly not what she threatens.

"Zsofi will kill you all when Zsofi gets her power back. You will tremble in fear at Zsofi name! No one will be spared. Zsofi going to deliver flowers now, and will remember your faces. Zsofi will plot your doom in the dark hours of the night." She shakes her flowers at Francisco and the wolf, and then turns to stomp off down the street.

"Powers back? Hrm… thought so," Francisco muses, and looks at the wolf. "And what do you want? Oscar for best dramatic actor in a public place?"

The wolf's tail wags once, and he grins. "Eh, not – What?" He blinks. "What do you mean, 'Oscar'?"

The fox ponders explaining. "Never mind," he says. "I doubt David Letterman would be available for a ceremony here anyway."

Francisco puts out a paw to help the wolf to his feet.

The wolf furrows his brow. "I don't know that fellow." He accepts the hand, trying to get to his feet. "Anyway … What's this about 'Oscars'?"

Francisco says, "Um – they're a series of awards for movies," starts Francisco. "Actors, directors and all sorts of people involved in films try and win them every year.""

The wolf blinks, then squints at Francisco. "And just what world did you say you were from, anyway?"

Francisco replies, "I didn't. But since you ask, it's called Earth. Sorry if the name is too bland for you – I didn't pick it."

The wolf's eyes go wide. "Earth? Earth, you say? Well, if that don't … " He points at Francisco, and says, "Okay, who won the war?"

The multi-tailed fox tilts his head slightly. "War? Which war?"

Something odd. The wolf has shifted to speaking in … English. "THE war. You know. Eh … " He looks the fox up and down. "I guess maybe it's been done a while."

Francisco doesn't notice at first. "The war? You mean the Second World War? Er, the allies won that one, so the Germans and the… How in Inari's name do you know how to speak English??"

"Because I went to SCHOOL, that's how," the wolf retorts. "Anyway, glad to hear that. I should have guessed since you aren't talking like… Bah." He waves a hand at the fox. "I see they don't make 'em like they used to," he adds, pointing at the fox's tails.

Francisco shakes his head a little, confused. "They teach English here? As for my tails – they're made the same say all Kitsune tails have been made for centuries."

"Here?" the wolf asks. "No, they don't have schools here. Not unless you're talented with hocus-pocus stuff or your family is rich or you want to do the 'Seig Heil' with the Temple Scouts. Bah. No, kid, I'm from EARTH."

The kitsune furrows his brow a little. "Oh? I can't say that I've seen or heard of your kind there at all. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to who and what you are?"

The wolf says, "My kind? Now, isn't THAT a howdy-do. I'm a WOLF, of course. Can't ya tell?" He bares what teeth he has, growling. "Rar! Anyway, I was also a gunner. Dropping an experimental new bomb, and … well … can't say as I like the results."

"Obviously you are a wolf," the Kitsune says, "though not a kind I have ever seen before. And what bomb? And how did you get here?"

The wolf shrugs. "Guess I must be special. As for the bomb … eh … well, that's still classified, son. Not until I get orders otherwise."

Francisco coughs slightly. "Special is hardly the word I would use. I find it fairly hard to believe that a wolf would be testing an experimental bomb for one thing. Besides, had the humans seen you, they would have done experiments on you. Wolves of your sort… were not exactly commonplace."

The wolf squints back at Francisco, then says, "Eh? Now, just who taught YOU history? Now, don't you go tugging an old wolf's tail. Half our CREW was wolves." He pauses, sniffling a bit at something. "Great fellows, all."

Francisco's eyes narrow back at the wolf. "Self-taught in history – mostly from live television and radio reports." He pauses. "We are talking about the same war here, are we?"

The wolf says, "Well, I don't rightly know. How old are you, anyway?"

"Mid threehundred and thirties will be close enough," replies the kitsune.

The wolf's jaw drops. "Uhm … Sure, kid. I see they stopped teaching math along with history."

"It's somewhere around there, anyway," Francisco says. "I think I might have missed the odd birthday passing."

"Yeah, yeah … sure … Well, nice talking with you. I think I'll just move along now," the wolf says, looking around for a nice place to disappear into the crowd of Bazaar-goers. "Take care, and don't take any wooden shekels!"

The poodles, still milling about, look at each other, and then walk up to the fox. "Pardon me," one of the poodles says, "but are you by any chance looking for employment?"

The kitsune is just about to say something after the wolf, but turns to face the poodle. "What kind of employment?" he asks, vaguely remembering their attitude to him earlier.

The poodle smiles, then says, "Well, we shall have to discuss that later, at a time of your convenience. I rather like the way you handled that MOST unpleasant … ah … whatever it was. Now then … my card… " The poodle reaches to his vest, and flips out a hand-written card bearing the name of "Eustace do Varr", with little embossed flowers forming the border. "I think your skills may come in handy. We'll discuss terms later."

Francisco takes the card, and looks over it. "Why can't you give me an idea of what you want of me now?" he asks.

The poodles smile, and Eustace says, "Because, we want to give you the full benefit of our presentation. But, if it will help inspire your curiosity any more… " The poodle digs into his vest again, and pulls out a coin, which he holds out to the fox. "There. Just to show you that I'm serious. Don't spend it all in one place!"

The coin is copper, looking something like an oversized penny, with the "Star and Anchor" symbol of the Temple embossed on it.

The fox, glancing briefly to one side at the stall that took his interest, takes the coin, and nods. "Alright. When would you want to meet?"

The poodle waves his hand, and says, "Oh … any old time! Just drop by… " He points at the address on the card. "If you have trouble finding it, just ask for directions. Now then … Ta ta!" The poodles, as a group, walk off.

Francisco watches them leave, flips the coin once in the air and on catching it puts it in his pocket.