Haskalah sips tea and leafs through 'Leotaur's Love Lost in Lyric Lustre', a small novel with a garishly colored frontispiece which depicts a shaggy-maned lion'taur confronting gray wyverns… She looks up at the knocking on the door. "So neh, back so soon?"

Jaundice opens the door cautiously at Haskalah's voice, and peeks inside. "Yes'm." He pads inside, his prize securely in hand.

Fenter rubs his arm. "You know, I never believed the professor when they told me about things like molly-cues floating about in the air and bumping into everything… but after that bath from last night, about three hours of scrubbing, I've decided that they exist. Because I can feel every single one of them bouncing against my skin."

Jaundice turns and gestures for Fenter to come in, shaking his head at the idle mutterings. He wanders to a seat and looks up expectantly at his advisor.

"So! Have you a red left-handed squeep for me?" the tortoiseshell Khatta asks brightly, putting her book down and leaning forward.

Jaundice nods crisply. "Yes Ma'am." He says this with some finality, holding up the … squeep, in his left hand yet.

Fenter idly toys with a streamer of zolk.

Haskalah beams. "Ah. Now, tell me how you found it, Pe'er."

The tortoiseshell cat pours two cups of tea, one for Jaundice, another for Fenter.

Fenter's ears perk. "Tea? I er… wouldn't suppose you'd have anything a bit stronger, your graceness?"

Jaundice sets the squeep on the desk amongst the clutter and takes the teacup, glancing over at the raccoon, then back to Haskalah. "Well… " He sips thoughtfully, wondering how to begin.

Haskalah quirks an eyebrow at Fenter, "So neh, do I look like a bartender that I purvey all sorts of drinks, young assistant?" Her tailtip flicks.

Fenter smiles sheepishly and accepts the cup. "It never hurts to ask, your eminence."

Haskalah beams to Fenter. "If you are good and do not bring my drapes coming down like a typhoon in a dollhouse, Fenter, then I shall give you permission to take the rest of the day off and enjoy a little more of Rephidim's liquids for sale." She winks, then looks back to Jaundice.

Fenter takes a gulp of the tea, and then GMMPHS as the hot liquid burns his tongue. He quickly slaps a hand over his mouth and bounces from foot to foot, amazingly enough he does not spill the remaining tea.

"Yuth muhm." The raccoon manages to mumble through his fingers.

Jaundice sets the teacup in his lap after briefly inhaling the vapors. "… We were slow to start, since we first had to figure out what a squeep was… " He blinks, glancing over at Fenter briefly before returning to his story.

Haskalah perks her ears up. Her eyes twinkle.

Jaundice clears his throat. "We were under the assumption that it was some kind of animal. So we… " He pauses, searching for the word. "… called on an expert." He gestures to the raccoon. "Someone he knew. An Elder… what was his name?"

Fenter makes little whooshing noises as he sucks air in and out, hoping to cool his tongue. "Morth… Morthimer… He wath a rethired exthplorer… "

The Khatta sips some of her tea, breathing in flowery-spicy smells. "Ah, very good. An expert." She nods.

Jaundice nods. "Right… anyway, he was … er, somewhat helpful. Just in telling us that there was no such thing." He sits up, adjusting his tunic. "Anyway… " He blinks, realizing something. "I'm sorry, I forgot… "

Jaundice ahems. "We had an… other with us. I had met her before, and she wanted to come along with us… " He shrugs.

Fenter blows into his tea a bit, causing it to make little burbling noises. "Envoy was her name. Delightful lady… I think she fancied Pe'er a bit."

"Well! You should introduce her another time," Haskalah says with a smile. "Meeting new people is like turning the page in a good book: you never know what you're going to find."

Haskalah's ears wiggle in silent laughter.

Jaundice sips more tea, giving Fenter an odd look. "Yes, Envoy… still not sure who she is, or what she is, exactly. Any road… "

Jaundice swallows. "Something Mortimer had said sounded as if the squeep might not be an animal at all. Maybe it was a tool of some kind, used by plumbers. So that's where we went next… "

Fenter takes an experimental sip of his tea now that he's cooled it a bit… then winces. Yech, it tastes terrible cold. But we don't want to offend the nice professor that grants off campus passes, so just keep drinking and smile.

Haskalah raises a hand. "Now, what exactly did Mortimer say, Pe'er?"

Jaundice's eyes unfocus from the point just above Haskalah's left shoulder where he's been staring in recitation, and fall back to her face. "Er… uh, oh! Right… he, uh… like I said, was an Elder… he was hard of hearing, and very frail. Maybe a bit beyond the treeline."

Fenter says, "… and he hadn't taken his evening nap yet."

Jaundice rubs his nose, and nods, continuing. "As we were about to leave, he was dropping off to sleep, and started mumbling to himself."

Haskalah nods to Jaundice, encouraging him to go on.

Fenter tips his head back as he gulps down the last mouthful of tea. He makes the most horrid face for the briefest of moments before managing to contort his expression back into his normal contented grin that he usually adopts around people who control his grant money.

Jaundice raises an eyebrow at Haskalah's nod of encouragement, and searches for a way to elaborate further. "He… was mumbling… and… it was a few words he said, just words, not in any sentences… 'squeep, plumbing, kavis,' I think it was." He turns to Fenter, as if to ask for any other words he may have left off.

Fenter says, "He mentioned temple scout cookies as well! I didn't hear all of it… I was powdering my nose for a few minutes while I was visiting. I won't subject you to the details of my visit to Mort's powder room… too horrible for a lady such as yourself to hear."

Jaundice raises his eyes to Haskalah, looking for an expression that suggests he should go on.

Again Haskalah wiggles her ears. "Tish and tosh, boys. These old ears of mine have grown so wearied by Master Vondrard's talks that they are left nearly insensate." She smiles and gestures with her cup. "You leave out all the interesting details, dear Pe'er. Are you sure that you are telling me what happened, or are you saying what you wish had happened?"

The Khatta winks and sips.

Jaundice peers at Haskalah for a moment, then shakes his head and gapes. "Uh… no, ma'am. This is how I remember it." He looks to Fenter again…

"Mm, so first he told you that there was no such thing, and then he spoke of plumbing and Kavis?" She looks over at Fenter with eyes sparkling. "Perhaps I should not ask of this powder room incident after all. So then… what did you do?"

Fenter seems to be attempting to balance Hasksla's teacup on his nose, he erps as he notices Pe'er looking at him and promptly hides the cup behind his back, smiling sheepishly.

Jaundice nods in reply to Haskalah's summary. "Well, we went in search of a plumber, which as Fenter told us, was difficult… with the Bazaar being moved around shop by shop… "

"A marvelous place to shop," the Khatta says with a happy twitch of her whiskers.

"… and eat!" The raccoon adds.

Jaundice makes a mental note not to turn to Fenter again, and returns to the story. "… but we did find one. A… " Once again, he searches for the word. "… colorful place, with two kavi plumbers working inside."

"Colorful," Haskalah prompts with an intrigued swish of her tail and tilt of her muzzle.

Fenter says, "Very very colorful. As colorful as a toilet exploding."

Haskalah cackles.

Jaundice quirks his mouth briefly, and nods. "Yes. Ned and Bart, the professional plumbers, spelled… " … he looks above Haskalah's shoulder again. "p-r-o-f-e-s-h-n-l p-l-u-m-m-e-r-s." He breaks off again, pulling back from rote recognizance.

"I see. What happened then?" Haskalah prompts Jaundice.

Fenter says, "They scratched themselves quite a bit."

Jaundice nods. "Well, we went inside, and met Ned and Bart." He nods at Fenter's description. "Yes, they did."

Haskalah quirks an eyebrow, but looks even more amused as she sips her tea.

Fenter attempts to place the empty teacup on a space in a bookcase and almost knocks over a set of china figurines. He spends the next few minutes madly juggling with them as they try very very hard to leap to the floor.

Jaundice sucks in a breath, and holds out his hands, suddenly ready to describe the proprietors in glaring detail. "HUGE kavis. Smelled as though they hadn't bathed since last Fool's Day. Or longer."

"Over there," the tortoiseshell Khatta says to Fenter in an aside as she gestures toward a particularly soft pile of pillows.

Jaundice coughs. "We immediately decided we didn't want to stay very long."

Haskalah wiggles her ears again.

Fenter holds out a china figurine of a bromethian forest hog. "Almost as big as one of these piggy things."

"That is indeed large," Haskalah agrees.

Jaundice inhales. "Once we'd told them what we wanted, they disappeared into the back, and came out with this." He points to the gadget on the edge of the desk.

Fenter trundles over to the cushion and promptly sits down upon it. The collection of china figurines sit nestled in his arms.

"Indeed," Haskalah says with a flash of her little white teeth. "So they told you this was a red left-handed squeep then?" Her eyes are laughing, neither acknowledging nor denying that they might be.

Jaundice nods. "I doubted their sincerity, but they were… somehow convincing." He takes the "squeep" off the desk and holds it up for Haskalah to see, his left thumb over the button at its base. "They showed us this." He presses the button.

A wire pokes up the top. *SQUEEP!*

Fenter peers at a figurine that seems to resemble an aeonan. ( This looks like that Envoy lass. but the wings have been broken off of it. Hmmm they must be around here somewhere. ) The racoon gently places the figurines on the pillow and begins poking through the bookcase, trying to find a pair of wings to glue on the aeonan figurine.

Haskalah starts to laugh.

Jaundice furrows his brow at Haskalah, downcasting his eyes briefly, then shrugging and setting the squeep back on her desk. "As I said, they were convincing."

Fenter says, "And they really needed the money! The poor chaps couldn't afford belts."

Jaundice continues. "They first asked one gold in payment." He gives the raccoon a nod. "I asked Fenter to bargain with them, and he was able to bring the price down to an iron."

"Well, dear Pe'er, it seems that you have come back with a red left-handed squeep," Haskalah says. She takes the strange gadget and turns it over. "This certainly is one."

Jaundice nods. "Yes'm." He sits up with an expectant look.

Fenter's search for a pair of wings to glue to the aeonan figurine seems to be fruitless. He gingerly places the figure behind a book, hoping Haskala won't notice.

The Khatta presses the button. *SQUEEP!* She puts it back on the table that serves her for a desk, still smiling. "That will be all for this week, Pe'er, I'm certain that your other teachers are calling eagerly for your time that I have stolen for myself." She winks. "Next week undoubtedly, I shall have need for another unique thing to be found. You seem to be good at finding things, Pe'er."

Fenter's ears perk. ( I wonder if her graciousness will let ME hold the money next time around. )

Jaundice sighs inwardly. . o O { I suppose pleasing her is better than annoying her. } "Yes'm. Am I dismissed?"

Haskalah tilts her head. "Is there something you would like advice on, dear Pe'er?"

Jaundice blinks, his eyes scanning the room. He hesitates…

( Ask her if it's hot water or cold water that you should use for the white linen in the laundry! ) The raccoon thinks. ( I've been wondering about that one for ages… )

Jaundice tilts his head to one side in brief contemplation. "Mm… well, I'm not really sure, to be honest." He pauses, still in thought.

"Then allow me to give you some free advice," Haskalah says with a smile.

Jaundice sits at rapt attention. "Yes'm?"

The Khatta considers the young and interested looking coyote. "Every morning, schedule permitting, I would like you to go to the Bazaar, with which I cam certain that young Fenter has already well acquainted you, and… "

Fenter thinks, . o O ( Free? You mean they won't take this out of his tuition? And here I thought they charged for breathing the air. )

Jaundice perks his ears. "The Bazaar?"

"Indeed," Haskalah says brightly. "And there I would like you to… Do nothing for half an hour."

Jaundice looks even more amazed/confused/aghast. "Do nothing?" He pauses at an etiquette roadblock. "… w-why?"

Fenter says, "Except breathe, or attempt to not catch any strange sentient diseases from the vermites, or move to escape the path of a runaway pala fruit vendor… "

The Khatta nods to Fenter agreeably.

Jaundice turns to Fenter… "Uh… thanks for clarifying." He looks thoroughly confused now.

Fenter says, "It's easy lad… I've gotten quite good at doing absolutely nothing. You'll find it to be quite to your liking."

Jaundice blinks a few more times, then settles his gaze on Haskalah again. He remains silent, completely at a loss for words. His mouth opens, but only manages a few wheezy rattling whines.

Fenter ohdears… he hopes that the tea wasn't off.

Haskalah swishes her tail. "There are actually a great number of reasons why I would like you to sit out in the Bazaar each morning and do nothing for a half hour," she says cheerfully. "Let's say that I think it will be a most educational experience, dear Pe'er."

Jaundice closes his mouth, and blinks again. There is a very pregnant pause before he nods. "All right… every morning? What time?"

Fenter hmphs. When he goofs off he's told that he's wasting his life away. And now it's educational?

Fenter says, "It might be a good idea to wait until the afternoon, the worst of the stench usually gets blown away by that time."

"I'll leave that up to your judgment," Haskalah says with a smile. She looks over at a wall which contains sundry decorations which might or might not be clocks, but which certainly bewilder the eye, then back to Jaundice. "But for the moment, do consider this: what is the difference between time we measure and time we make?"

Jaundice quirks an eyebrow at the question. "Ma'am?"

Haskalah tilts her head. "Yes?"

Jaundice twists his mouth. "I don't understand the question, ma'am."

Fenter mumbles to himself.

"So neh? The farmer doesn't need to lead a thirsty young Dromodon to water that's at its feet," Haskalah says, gesturing with her teacup. "It's a philosophical question, so you should talk to a philosopher." She grins over at Fenter. "And fortunately you have one sitting next to you."

Jaundice frowns slightly. . o O { I never heard any of the village theologists asking questions like that. }

Fenter glances behind his shoulder to make sure he's the one Haskalah is talking about.

"As asked, ma'am. I will." Jaundice nods to her in thanks.

Haskalah beams. "Take care, young Pe'er. Fenter, I would like to speak with you a moment more."

Fenter urks. ( I'm in trouble… she's going to blame me for her little horned thing's missing wings… I just know it. )

Jaundice stands and pads out of the room, leaving the squeep on the desk. He walks through the doors as though into the open arms of his relatively free and unencumbered peace of mind.

The door clicks shut behind him.

Haskalah takes the squeep and pushes the button again. *SQUEEP!* She laughs softly and nods to Fenter to sit at the table now. "So this is a squeep. What did you think of our fine young Hekoye then?"

Fenter quietly sits, glancing back at the direction that the coyote left from. "Well. To be honest, your worship, I think he's a fine enough lad… although he seems a bit shy for his own good. And for the strangest reason, he doesn't seem to care for me very much. Bugged if I know why, I've always thought myself to be a likable enough of a chap."

"Oh you are, you are," Haskalah says with a soft laugh. She squeeps again, then puts it on a shelf. "And how did he react when your friend, Mortimer, said there was no such thing as a squeep?"

Fenter coughs. "Well, I doubt the lad would have noticed if a Vykarin had taken a chunk from his backside after Morty told him the news. He seemed quite intent on bringing you a squeep."

Haskalah nods, swishing her tail and listening intently to Fenter. "Do go on?"

Fenter says, "He had himself a good sitdown on Mort's floor for a few moments. It perked him up a bit."

Haskalah nods thoughtfully. "Our young Hekoye has been taught very well, and that is the problem," she says.

Fenter says, "Ahhh yes." The raccoon steeples his fingers in front of his nose. "I'm beginning to understand a bit better now. All work and no play… "

"When one has been taught that the world moves in a certain way, that everything is ordered… That things fall *down* when you drop them, that all knowledge is held in books… Then one tries to fit everything one sees into that system," the tortie Khatta says more to herself than to Fenter. "Magic breaks the rules. Jaundice has a great potential for magic, and he understands the principles that his teachers have given him… "

Haskalah grins to Fenter. "Whereas you would much rather play than work, you scamp."

Fenter coughs to himself. "Well, we can't all aspire to be great wizards. some of us aspire to be substandard wizards… or perhaps even mediocre wizards."

Haskalah grins mischievously to Fenter. "Why, Fenter, I thought you aspired to taste every vintage of wine and brandy in the Three Thieves."

"And the Gilt Bromthen… And the Silk Purse… "

Fenter says, "Don't forget the Orange Nag- Er… forget I said that."

"Well then. Until you two found this interesting little thing… " Haskalah looks back up to the widget sitting next to a statuette of a faceless man of gold. "There was no such thing as a red left-handed squeep. There is now. Because at least one person believes that is what it is."

Fenter's eyes go wide. "So the whole thing was just a wild Creen chase? Hmm… I wonder what the poor lad's reaction would have been if we'd returned empty handed." ( Although keeping that iron shekel would have been nice. )

"Not exactly," Haskalah says with a black-lipped smile. "Because of the two Kavis you spoke with, there now is a squeep. What I look for is the moment that Pe'er births the squeep from his own imagination." She reaches over and taps Fenter on the nose. "Be careful for him, young rascal, he will need someone to show him the way."

Fenter says, "I'll watch over the lad as if he were my own brother, your graciousness."

The tortoiseshell feline smiles brilliantly. "Benign neglect is not what I'm thinking of, you scamp." She hands Fenter a copper, then makes shooing motion. "Now, off to enjoy your well-earned day, Fenter, and leave a wizened old lady to tuck up with her reading."

Haskalah flickers her ears with a grin.

Fenter grins at the coin, eagerly pocketing it away. "I shall, your… er… ear flickyness. Good day to you." He merrily scoots out the door, oblivious to the fact that his hat is no longer on his head but is now hanging from one of the Zolk banners overhead.

Haskalah stands with a little sigh as Fenter scoots out the door. "And perhaps our fine young Hekoye will have a thing or two to teach Fenter about thinking." She takes the hat and looks it over briefly, then pads out herself to put it back into Fenter's quarters.