Dusk descends upon the city as a Skreek shakily trundles down the street in a selona rickshaw driven by a shaky-looking lizard that seems half-seasick most of the time. The driver promised Skye a quick ride to the taxidermist who supposedly had the only captive whispa specimen known… carefully preserved, of course.

Eventually, after running over quite a few folks (who – as far as Skye could tell – eventually got back up on their feet before the cart had gone out of view) the rickshaw stopped near a glass-fronted shop with several strange animals glaring out from the storefront. It might be confused for a pet shop, were it not for the fact that each and every one of the animals was completely motionless.

"Ten shekelsss pleasse," the driver hisses, pulling his hat off and holding it out to the Skreek. "And it will be another five if you exsspect me to wait for your return trip back." The selonas wiggle madly from the stopped cart, wanting to continue running, but the wheels are locked and the front basket holding the two lizards is currently raised upwards, keeping the twin Selonas dangling just enough above the ground that all they can do is swipe at the cobbles with the tips of their toes.

Reaching to his belt, Skye retrieves the small pouch containing his funds. With a knowing smile, he bounces out of the rickshaw before reaching across to the driver, to deliver his pay. "Good day and thank yi, and I'm sure I'll find a lift later if'n I need." He steps back, immediately, once the coins jingle from his hands, wary to keep clear of the rambunctious rickshaw. He then turns, pausing to give the critters in the window a close dark-eyed look, before trying the door.

Odd. The Nagas in the streets seem to suddenly take an interest in standing on the opposite side of the street… away from the Skreek. The brass bell (metal … not chitin!) on the door jingles as it opens up into a musty smelling shop with more stuffed animals on the inside.

A scrawny looking Savanite is polishing some marbles off in the corner. He bows sharply to the rat, but there's a certain glint in his eyes – the sort of look that usually means he'll be carefully watching the Skreek's hands and what they touch or grab.

His nose wrinkling, long whiskers twitching, Skye slowly pushes the door open, and just as slowly follows his long muzzle inside. Reaching back with one paw to close the door behind him, the Skreek holds still for a heartbeat, just one, to let his eyes adjust to the interior light. He taps the brim of his hat, nodding in return to the Savanite, and takes a second step before he speaks. His greeting is in his very simple Imperial. "Good day. Is Master Dors'all home?"

The Savanite nods his head, and eyes Skye even more critically. He puts down the polishing cloth and the marbles – which turn out to be glass eyes. The cheetah glances up a set of stairs and looks back at Skye, making a questioning shrug.

Folding his paws behind his back, Skye pads through the little shop, walking towards the Savanite. Every so often he pauses, comparing the collection here with his experiences out in the field. His pace is silent, and practiced eyes scan the room, noting the arrangement of the collection and its housing. "You work for Dors'all, yes?" He stops at the base of the stairs. "No … no … " he pauses, adding the next word in Rephidim standard, before continuing in his broken Imperial. "No appointment, but I come for other Master, yes? Should I just call, and do you Rep'idim Standard know?"

The slave nods, shrugs, nods his head, and nods it a third time. He holds his hands out and makes a few signs, but they're meaningless to the Skreek.

Skye shrugs in a friendly manner, holding his palms up and out with a wry smile. When he continues, his words echo a dry humor in his own more familiar tongue. "I do believe yi understand me a lot better than I understand yi." Taking one step up the stairs, Skye leans forward, looking up and calling out, "Allo? Master Dors'all of t'e House of Taxidermists? Mind if yi have a visitor coming up?"

"Bah! This stitch will show through now! Who is there?" comes a hiss from the partially ajar door above. "By the serpent's gullet, who is it?"

Letting out a quiet chuckled chuff of breath, Skye continues up the stairs. "Most folks call me Skye, and I am here on behalf of Master Laks'mi, honored among t'e House Behaviorist. On her behalf, I've come to ask about yi most interesting find, one which has even reached a Bromt'en Secretary General's ears."

For a moment there's no sound. Then, the door creaks open and a red snake with alternating bands of black and yellow peers out through the door. "Master Lakshmi, you said? Yes, an up and coming animal hunter, I've heard. Do you have proof of this? You could just be a name-dropping vagrant, for all I know… "

Skye takes a final step up so his black eyes can evenly meet his. Pushing back the front of his hat with one paw, the other is held daringly out on greeting. "Well t'e name is Skye, and I've been with Master Laks'mi since her work wit' t'e goos'urm, an s'e says t'at's nig' two years. Someone has to make sure s'e can find her way in and out of t'e wilderness now, yes? But if a Skreek's word is to hard for yi to be holding, t'en Master Laks'mi has t'is message for yi." Reaching down to the folds of his long, long black belt, he carefully takes out the missive Lakshmi had prepared. Unfolding it, he holds it up for Master Dorshall to read, but doesn't let go.

The coral snake flicks out his tongue and lowers his head to examine the note. "Hmmm… This looks valid. It does bear her seal." Dorshall's head rises back up and he pushes the entryway open. "Very well, I'll spare you a few minutes. But for goodness' sake don't touch anything! VARN! Get us some tea, would you?"

The Naga slithers back through the door, allowing Skye entry. The air here is damp and reeks of mold and dust. Animals in various stages of stuffing and mounting clutter the workroom. Behind Dorshall's desk is another slave, standing still and looking downcast.

Skye carefully folds the paper back up, slipping it back into his belt. With a spring in his step, he follows Master Dorshall towards his desk. "Thank yi. And don't yi be worrying. I've been close enough to half t'ese critters w'en t'ey've been alive. I know how to keep my hands, Master Dorshall. However, most of t'ese are not of Master Laks'mi's concern t'is evening. S'e has sent me to ask about your most impressive w'ispa." The black Skreek nods, folding his paws behind him.

"Ah! Word of my prize has gotten out, has it?" The Naga folds his arms across his desk. "Poor thing. It didn't do well in captivity, and it doesn't glow now that it's passed on."

Shrugging in a nonchalant manner, the Skreek nods. "Would yi think not? T'e story on how yi came across t'e critter would be most intriguing to Master Laks'mi, and she sent me to see it, to bring a report back to her. Could yi tell me how yi found t'e w'ispa?" As he speaks, Skye stands relaxed and balanced, his expression and poise just for the Imperial Naga. But his gaze catches all the room, older reflexes hidden beneath a public mask. The scent of sawdust, of strange preservatives – that, I would have expected. But mold and dampness, that doesn't seem right, not for one trying to prevent the rot of flesh and fur. Add to that, the scattering of the patrons and a downcast Savanite – just how successful is this Master Dorshall, or better, just how desperate… An oddity suspected, Skye listens and watches sharp, his black ears tall, searching for any other inconsistent details.

"Luck, mostly." Dorshall slithers over to a rack in the wall with numerous drawers and cubby holes. "We think they hunt by trapping their prey in quicksand or other convenient means, and this one fell into its own trap. It was caught by a fellow hunting for night worms who came across it before it sunk too far."

Soft, quick footsteps can be heard from the stairs as something approaches. "Skye?" A moment afterwards, an unusual canine head can be seen, followed by the body it is attached to. Skye would know this body to be that of Mandara, who has been off seeing to a place to stay and travel for later.

His gaze returns to the downcast Savanite, once, then twice. Skye's nose twitches, whiskers shifting. Then again, perhaps that laddie ain't had a complaint in many a year. At all. The Naga's words snare his attention again, and he nods. "T'at is a very interesting t'ought, Master Dors'all, especially considering some evidence we've collected in t'e field." He pauses for a moment, glancing down the stairs. "T'at's Mandara; she is Master Laks'mi's." He nods to the Naga and calls down, "Wit' your permission, Mandara, up here, yes?" That said, the pragmatic Skye returns to the business at hand. "And w'ere was t'e ot'er master seeking for night worms? W'ose lands?"

Dorshall flicks his tongue out at Mandara's arrival, before turning back to Skye. "I would have to ask him, although I believe I know the general area. It was an open swamp belonging to nobody except the town master."

Skye smiles, "T'at a good piece of information would be, yes? Given t'e general area, I am sure I could find t'e town and swamp. T'at's w'at Master Laks'mi pays me for, after all. Does t'e other master have a name? For w'en Master Laks'mi asks, of course."

With Skye's request, Mandara finishes her climb up the stairs and mirrors the position of her Savanite counterpart by standing behind Skye as he talks. She does not, however, stay still for long. Instead, she busily looks around the room with the occasional report on what she was just doing. "Room ready." "We travel, all done."

Skye nods to Mandara, one ear rotating to follow her passage through the room. "Don't touch, Mandy, but please, listen and look well, yes?"

"Yep yep!" Mandara calls back as she looks around. She does not touch anything, although she does sniff at a few items that catch her attention.

The Savanite on the other hand remains stock still. Must be very well trained.

"That would be Master Trillings. I believe he's more of a fisherman actually, but he sold the Whispa to me when it was obvious that it was going to die soon." The Naga pulls a scrawny mass of clay and foam up in front of him, poking and re-sculpting it here and there.

Skye nods quietly. "T'at would fit, yes… "

Considering, Skye ducks his muzzle, and then asks his next question, a very simple one. "Would yi let us see t'e w'ispa?"

Master Dorshall rears up a bit, his tongue flicking out in a somewhat pleased manner. "I thought you would never ask." He eases over to a locked drawer, and pulls a set of keys from his waistcoat. "Keep your slave under control, would you? I get nervous when people poke at my belongings… and I want your hands to stay in your pockets while I have the specimen out, understand?"

Mandara's ears perk up at the mention of keeping the slave under control. She considers this and the words of Master Dorshall for a moment, before kneeling and moving to all fours. With a creaking of bones and a readjustment of skin, Mandara changes into her quadruped form and pads over to Skye.

Skye holds his paws open, shrugging in a friendly manner. "No pockets … " He does however, fold his arms behind his back once again. His eyes dart, snaring Mandara's gaze. "Mandy, be still and look sharp. Time for ears and eyes only, yes?" His pace is silent, as he follows the Master Dorshall, absentmindedly, almost instinctively, stealing a good look at the key, what the key unlocks and the lock itself. His words, however, are simple and harmless. "As for waiting, well, in all things, I am a patient Skreek… "

The snake unlocks the stubborn drawer and wrenches it open. The iron hinges make a noise akin to some kind of small squealing animal, while the Naga starts to dig through the contents. Finally, he produces a grayish-looking creature that looks long and sleek, a little over a foot in length, with stumpy legs and a long pointed head and muzzle. Despite the taxidermist's best efforts, the creature still looks rather dead – more like a very well preserved corpse, but still a corpse.

The slave dog pads up and over to a place near the case so she can see what is inside. Spying the whispa her party has been searching for, she informs Skye of the obvious. "Dead."

From behind the staircase, the Savanite servant minding the shop appears with a tray holding a pot of tea and three teacups. He places them down on the desk, looks to the standing Savanite, and shivers visibly before quickly dashing back down the stairs again.

Skye queries, "It was dead w'en yi found it?" Skye takes a half step closer, leaning forward to observe. He compares this small carcass to Uriah's description of the elusive whispa, compares it to the stories Lakshmi has passed on, and even the stuffed animals in a merchant stall. But as he looks, his eyes narrow and his gaze sharpens, to ensure this is a critter he has never seen before, and not some well crafted fancy. If, of course, I even knew what I was looking for. "And Master Trilling found it still alive?""

It looks like no other creature Skye's seen before, and there's just the slightest trace of scent that tingles one's nose about it, although it's faint and fading. "An animal school was trying to nurse it back to life. Supposedly they tried everything from life magic to recreating its habitat, but there's just something about the Bromthen flood plains that sustains it that cannot be reproduced anywhere else. I did see it when it was alive; it had the most amazing glow!" The snake's solid black eyes cloud up wistfully.

Mandara paws Skye's leg gently to get his attention, after she turns back from watching the Savanite leaving the tea. She indicates with her nose that she is going over by the stairs.

Skye nods solemnly, looking at the small critter. "One did? Do yi know w'ich school, and a name t'ere of a master w'o I could ask? Certainly t'eir experience would be very valuable to Master Laks'mi. T'o, I t'ink, from w'at we have learned, mayhaps it was simply because t'is is t'e size of a youngling w'ispa." He takes a second soft sniff, his whiskers twitching, to make sure he would remember that shy scent. As he leans back, he glances to Mandara. "Just a moment or two, yes?"

Taking a step back, Skye lets out a satisfied breath. "Like no beast t'is Skreek has ever seen, it is." He takes up a cup, and sips the tea. "T'is is very good." Skye manages a practiced smile, tea never being one of his favorite drinks. "Thank yi. May I ask – I'm just curious – w'y yi are afraid of yi work being touched? Certainly t'e fur begs to be, as well as even t'e w'ispa's dying skin?"

The girl blinks a few times before bobbing her head to Skye and proceeds to pad off towards the stairs. Carefully she begins to weave amongst the displays and towards the standing Savanite with as much stealth as she can manage in a shop such as this.

"Mage Chrillon handles it for the most part, but I doubt that even with a note from Master Lakshmi will you get to see him. Although, I might be able to get you copies of the notes that were taken about the creature, if that will suffice." The serpent eyes Skye's hands. "I suppose it's due for a cleaning anyhow, and Lakshmi may prove to be a useful friend somed-HEY! Where is your slave going?

The cheetah downstairs seems distracted, polishing a set of that looks like white marbles of varying sizes.

Skye looks back, his words brisk but even. "She has gone downstairs, under t'e watchful eye of your slave, yes? If yi, wish, and t'is a problem is, I'll call her back. And she is Master Laksm'i's, Master Dors'all, and thus well trained, and would never do anything to dishonor her master's name, yes Mandara?."

"Wait by stairs, wait for Skye finish where not break things," Mandara barks back to Skye as she pads along towards the stairs and the Savanite standing just beyond them.

Dorshall flicks his tongue out a couple of times as though considering. "She's awfully light with her property, isn't she?" He shakes his head and sets the stuffed Whispa down on his workbench, with the motionless slave standing patiently behind him. "Touch it carefully… "

Letting his softly accented words speak to Mandara, Skye watches as she heads towards the stairs, only to do a double take as she takes a pair of steps beyond, towards the all too silent Savanite. Not alarmed, but his words gently firm, Skye speaks four words. "Mandy. No. I know." Then he turns his attention back to Master Dorshall. "S'e is of t'e Behaviorists School after all. I am sure her treatment of Mandara falls wit'in her work, yes? However, for your patience, I am sure s'e will be grateful." Skye then carefully, lightly reaches out to touch the whispa carcass, slowly letting his fingers explore, from muzzle to tail – all the while, conscious of Master Dorshall's overlooking gaze.

Now by the workbench herself, Mandara leans back onto her hind legs and like before changes, this time being to a two legged form which allows her to see over the table. It is not the whispa her eyes are drawn to, but the motionless Savanite beyond. Her head inclines slightly and two fingers on her hand wiggle slightly. At the moment she seems to ignore Skye and her tail twitches nervously while doing so.

Skye brusquely speaks. "Mandy."

The fur is amazingly soft, almost like a whisper under Skye's touch. Yet there's a certain coldness to it. Like there was something missing.

The cheetah behind the desk doesn't move or even seem to acknowledge anyone else in the room.

Dorshall's tongue flicks in and out nervously.

Skye takes a step back then, returning his hands behind him. He simply looks down at the stuffed creature, the empty shell of a legend. One beat. Two. And then three. "Thank yi, Master Dors'all. Quite intriguing. Touch of a legend, yes? Not an everyday occurrence." He looks back. "Thank yi. And yes, Master Laks'mi would be greatly indebted to yi, for a copy of t'ose notes."

"Skye… " Mandara answers half heartedly as she just stares at the Savanite. Her eyes, locked as they are, search for some sign of movement from the slave across from her. And, at the same time what color can be seen behind her short fur seems to drain out of her face.

Skye quietly answers Mandara. "I know."

The Savanite doesn't move. It doesn't breathe, blink, twitch, or even really have much of a scent. No warmth comes from its body… it's…

"One of my best works I believe." Dorshall hisses, nodding at the stuffed Savanite. "It took a while, but I'm rather pleased."

Skye nods quietly. "It is certainly an impressive piece, it is. It's like yi … do … not … see … every … day."

"I… " Mandara begins, pausing to swallow hard. Her right hand begins to tense, as she tries to continue with the added shock of Dorshall's words. "I will be good."

Skye questions, dry and even, "Was he yours?"

The taxidermist takes the whispa up gingerly and slithers back to the drawer. "Yes. Died when someone brought in a horrib, and there was a bit of venom left in it. Needle had been a rather dutiful slave, and I wished to have something to remember him by."

Mandara lowers her head slightly upon hearing the Naga answer Skye's question.

Skye says, "An yi will always have his company in yi workshop." He waits until Master Dorshall returns before continuing. "T'e notes, Master Dorshall? As I said, Master Laks'mi would indebted be, and I t'ink t'at would be my last request, before saying good night."

Mandara's hand relaxes and her shoulders drop slightly before she turns to ask Skye a question. "I will go outside, wait, yes Master Skye?"

Skye turns to look towards Mandara. "I do believe I shall be right behind you, Mandy."

Closing the drawer, the Naga nods. "I shall have the notes sent to your inn, wherever it may be. Could you also deliver a note to your mistress for me as well?"

Skye says, "T'at I most certainly can do. Mandara, w'at is t'e name of our inn?"

Waiting instead for Skye to depart, Mandara remains near where she can answer the question. Indeed, she actually answers it in what seems to be an attempt at proper grammar. "Silver Stone Inn, Master Skye."

Skye says, "And yi can be certain Master Laks'mi will receive your note."

"A good day to you then." The taxidermist bows his head and goes back to work behind his desk.

Starting down the stairs, Skye pauses to both let Mandara precede him and to look back over his shoulder to the taxidermist. Tapping the brim of his hat, he departs with a few simple Imperial words, "Good day and t'ank you." Bouncing lightly down the stairs, he lets his pace slow as he heads towards the door.

With a second tap to his hat he bids the Savanite good day, "T'ank yi, also. Yi master be a good Naga, yes?" The last, however, is equally half a subtle question.

The cheetah smiles and nods his head, although there's a tired look in his eyes, a dull glint to his fur… just small signs that might be the Skreek's imagination or might be subtle signs that the taxidermist might not be a great flowering master after all.

Mandara stops by the door in order to wait for Skye's question to be answered. This also gives her time to sign a question of her own while the Skreek is facing the Savanite. Thus Mandara tilts her head to the side slightly and makes a subtle gesture towards the Savanite.

The slave's eyes glance at Mandara. He shakes his head and then goes back to polishing the stone eyes.

Taking his leave of the shop, Skye waits for Mandara to exit, before choosing a direction to walk. He takes in a deep breath, looking up and down the street side. This is my kind of wilderness, yes. His ears and eyes, however, are perked, sharply poised for the early warning signs of wayward selona rickshaws.

The parked rickshaw outside is still there. The driver has dozed off while the two Selonas have been lowered back to the ground and have flattened themselves against the warm stones of the pavement.

Given the time to ask more questions, Lakshmi's slave inquires more of Dorshall's slave. Being alone, she is able to gesture more with her hands, although her tilted head remains as it is.

The ever practical black Skreek just smiles. There's five shekels saved!

The taxidermist's slave shakes his head to Mandara and motions her outside. His hands form a few small signs.

Mandara stares at the slave for a moment and dips her head. Without looking she signs back to the Savanite quickly before turning and walking out the door.

The cheetah closes the door behind the two. A lock clicks into place and a shade is pulled down. The shade has some writing on it, but unfortunately Skye can't read it.

Waiting patiently, Skye watches as the cheetah closes down the shop. He can't read, no, but the message is one familiar to any city-bred Skreek. Quietly he turns back, nodding to Mandara. "Passing strange, yes?"

Once outside, Mandara walks over to Skye, but does not look at him. "I not know, Master Skye," she tells him quietly as she keeps her eyes averted.

The selona driver snores noisily.

Chuckling once, in a single soft chuff, Skye straightens his whiskers with one paw. "And as I've said, it's just Skye. Boss'Laks'mi is yi master, not me. And I t'ink I want to try opening a door t'at Master Dors'all mentioned. Are yi up to a selona ride?"

"As you say, Skye," Mandara responds in a tone that lacks her usual energy. She simply walks over to the selona after speaking and stands beside it with her head kept low.

Padding up to the rickshaw, Skye's gaze follows Mandara and the obvious droop to her shoulders. He quietly shrugs, his words simple. "A mass of contradictions, t'at one was, Mandy. And it also makes me very glad we be working for Master Laks'mi and not t'e likes of him. I did – well I did try to warn yi, yes?" And with a further shrug, he looks at the sleeping driver. He pauses, one heartbeat, before a mischievous smile crosses his face. Snapping off his hat with a flourish, he reverses it, and reaches out to tickles the driver beneath his nose with the tips of the hat's long eep feathers.

Skye says, "Two to t'e Silver Stone, yi'onor!"

The Shiga sneezes loudly, which starts to rouse the selonas. "Ack! Get on fasst! When they wake up, they bolt like the wind!"

Skye laughs brightly, and quickly hops aboard, extending a paw to Mandara!

"Your worry, kind, Skye. I behave badly, I no – " Mandara's words are interrupted as she realizes she may get left here if she does not hurry. With all the speed she can muster, she quickly jumps into the vehicle.

The jolting of the cart wakes the selona lizards up the rest of the way. The two cart pullers hop up, stick their tongues out a few times and then dash off, pulling the car and its two passengers (and the driver) out of this side of the city and into something a bit more familiar…