FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Together, hand in hand, they left the symphony of strings and tapping feet of dancing cats behind. The swelling, sonorous music, rising and falling like the sandy sea beneath the boardwalk, faded along with the laughter and bustle of the lively eastern Benz.

As Kali led Rinzaan through the crowded streets, the music became little more than a hum in the background. Three blocks away, they could hear each other again without shouting or craning into each other's ears. Though she had rather enjoyed the fleeting touch of his whiskers brushing against hers, when he leaned in to comment on the textiles or ceramics of a shop they passed, and how his warm voice tickled her inner ear.

Farther north, the streets were wider and more accommodating for nightly crowds. A strategic berth built into a few corners of the city where the cats who planned its construction managed to think past their whiskers. Unlike most of the Benz, with its narrow streets and alleys that cats struggled to squeeze through.

The shop fronts were larger, too. Several had colorful banners and canopies stretched out to lure cats in to peruse their wares. Kali had to usher Rinzaan past, each time, with an apologetic wave of her tail. If they stopped at one, he'd probably stop at every store on the street to marvel and gawk. And few cats were as perceptive as shopkeepers, whose prying eyes always sought potential customers. They could probably peel Rinzaan's hood back with a single avaricious look.

Kali hurried him along until they reached the intersecting street–one with less notoriously pesky shopkeepers. They didn't employ the colorful silks and tactics, since the scents wafting from each of the food shops was convincing enough.

They didn't have to find customers. The customers sought them, lining up before the various booths and their broad countertops, separating the hungry masses from the chefs working beyond.

Tables and benches were once scattered in front of each store. But between fights, vandals, and thieves, only a single table remained. With most things in the Benz, if it wasn't nailed down, either the sandy breeze or a cat's pilfering claws would snatch it away. Both of which happened often. On this street, closer to the inner city, the latter was more likely to blame.

The place with the best food was usually rife with pickpockets, too.

Kali paused at the street corner. Her eyes darted left and right, skimming the surrounding cats. All ears were turned away. Tails were lifted and carefree–except for the two cats arguing in front of one restaurant. She didn't see anyone suspicious. No hands in pockets or shifty eyes. No prickling sensation in her fur, like when someone watched her. Kali was the only cat acting shady, peeking around corners and scrutinizing everyone else, which she realized when a passing tom gave her a peculiar glance.

She turned back towards Rinzaan, bouncing her whiskers up with a reassuring smile, but he hadn't even noticed. He was too busy sniffing the air, whiskers back and lips parted, trying to sort through the variety of scents drifting around.

“Which restaurant are we going to?" he asked.

“It's more of a stall than a restaurant." Kali plucked at the edge of his hood, tugging it into place before leading them around the couple of lines that trickled into the street. “And we're not eating at these. They're–" Too expensive. She didn't want to admit that, so instead, she said, “They're not as good as the place we're going."

He didn't seem to believe her. She had to drag him away from the luscious scents of freshly baked, buttery pastries and imported cheeses. His nose and whiskers angled towards a cat and his steaming plate of food until Kali dug her fingers in, pricked his arm with her sharp claws, and yanked him forward past two more stalls.

“This is the one," Kali said. Her tail perked up, seeing the familiar worn-out sign nailed lazily on the front; several squiggles rippling over a pan. A depiction that soon reached her ears, with sizzling skillets and the sharp hiss of meat hitting pans.

Even at the end of the line, behind nine other cats, Kali barely suppressed her tail's excited quivering.

“This is the place, then?" Rinzaan asked, nodding up at the sign. “The, uh, steamy pot shop?"

Kali nodded. “I think it's supposed to be a skillet."

“The steamy skillet?"

Kali smirked. “Something like that. I don't know what its actual name is supposed to be. Everyone just knows it as Rafia's shop–or Raffy's. That's what Mikora called it. She took me here all the time when I was a kitten. Every time we got back from sailing, or if we were out too late doing errands, we'd stop by here."

“It sounds good, whatever it is," Rinzaan said. He tilted his muzzle up, nostrils flaring, and frowned. “But what's that weird, bitter smell?"

“That's the best part. Don't let your nose fool you." She grabbed the edge of Rinzaan's scarf and tugged it down over his eyes, so he lowered his muzzle with an annoyed growl. “And quit trying to cheat. You'll spoil the surprise."

“I don't usually want my food to be surprising." Rinzaan fixed his scarf on his ears, shifting it back so he could see. “The last time someone said something like that, my food was still alive." A shudder coursed through his pelt, down to the visible hair on his brown furred hands and tail.

“What was it? Snails?" she asked. “Or something more exotic from overseas?"

“Nothing so fancy. It was some kind of clam. I still have nightmares about it." Rinzaan raked his claws down his face, like that might sweep away the terrible memory. “Stars, it was slimy. You have no idea."

“I'm glad I don't," Kali chirped a laugh. “That sounds gross."

“It was so gross!" Rinzaan's nose wrinkled with a disgusted grimace. “I drank the thing, slurped it because I didn't know better. They told me it was fine–delicious even. They didn't tell me the thing would start oozing slime. And then I'm choking, actually choking, and no one even cares. They kept telling me, 'stop coughing' and 'just let it crawl down, you'll be fine.' My nose was blue before anyone helped."

Her smile vanished as concern dipped the corners of her muzzle. “You almost died eating a clam?"

Rinzaan's ears skewed aside. “Not exactly. I could still breathe. It was just, you know, really gross."

“How old were you when this happened?"

“That's not important," Rinzaan said, with a slight snarl. “What matters is the total breach of trust. That wasn't a fun surprise at all."

“Well, I'm glad you didn't die, getting grossed out by a clam." Kali's tail lifted as they approached the front of the line. “I promise this won't be so bad."

“As long as it's not clams, I'll be fine."

Kali couldn't make any promises. What the chefs used among their medley of ingredients was a secret. She and Mikora tried to figure it out and gave up. Anything might be in there. Slimy clams included.

Their clammy silence didn't last for long. Kali's ears lifted, and she chirped when she finally saw the empty counter and the molly behind it, who beckoned them forward. The same surly looking molly that always served the line at these hours. She tapped her impatient crooked claw on the counter with a steady take–tak–tak.

Kali perked up her giddy tail with a greeting, despite the old tortoiseshell molly glowering behind the counter. The old tortie had a mean look that could flay the fleas off most cats. When Kali was a kitten, she'd hide behind Mikora's legs. Tuck her nose into Mikora's pant leg, as if burying her face kept her safe. Now? Kali didn't mind it. She'd seen the dour expression too many times to be phased.

“Evening, Raffy," Kali said, with another swish of her tail. “Two boxes."

Kali dropped two silver coins on the counter. Raffy glanced at each, then tapped her claws again. “Don't play with me. You know what it costs. Four."

“Yeah, usually," Kali said, lowering her voice. “But I get the cute kitty special."

“Mikora gets the cute kitty special. And that?" The old cat pointed one hooked claw at Rinzaan. “That's not Mikora."

“Obviously not. But he's a friend."

“Doesn't count," Raffy growled. “Four."

“You don't even charge two silver a box." Kali dropped her voice to a hissed whisper. “It's usually one and a half."

“For Mikora, before the discount, sure. But today it's four. So, drop 'em or go."

“Well, I'm not paying four." Kali clenched her teeth. “I'll pay three."

“Nope. Four. No less."

Kali's tail lashed. “Seriously? Come on, we know how this goes."

“Yeah, and it ends with you dropping two more shiny silver coins on this counter right here." The old molly tapped her claws harder on the countertop. Kali's two coins bounced with each insistent thunk. “Do you want the boxes or not?"

“I've got it."

Kali's ears twisted around. She'd almost forgotten Rinzaan was there, amid her fervent bartering. She looked at him, confused, as he stepped forward and followed the motion of his hands. He slipped a pouch out of his inner shirt pocket. She hadn't noticed it before, but her ears caught the sound now. He loosened the clasp, and she glimpsed a yellow glint.

Kali slammed her hand atop his, covering the small velvet purse. “Ha! HA! No, I've got it covered. You got the last one."

“I got the last one? The last what?"

“Oh, you–" Kali flashed a smile over her shoulder at the now very confused, but still irate Raffy. “Excuse us." Kali snatched her two coins off the counter and gestured away with a flick of her tail. “We'll be right back."

She kept her hand pressed over Rinzaan's purse while she dragged him away. Fortunately, nobody paid much attention to them, despite Rinzaan's startled chirrup when she yanked him back into an alley. She cast quick glances each way, ensuring they were alone before she took her hand away.

“Give me that!" Kali snatched a coin out of Rinzaan's bag. She bit down on the edge using the sharp points of her canine teeth.

The polished surface didn't buckle or crack. It was real.

Kali's fur flared in alarm, and she quickly took the coin from her fangs and wiped it off on Rinzaan's sleeve. “Are you serious?" She hissed, as she tossed the coin back where it came from and snapped the metal clasp shut. “You brought real gold? Here?"

“What do you mean? Do you not–"

“No!" Kali inhaled sharply. She glanced either way again, and she lowered her voice. “No, no, I don't have gold on me. Nobody has gold down here, Rinzaan. Just copper and silver! And can you put that away already? It's giving me chills."

Kali shuddered. She still felt the smooth metal between her teeth. Tasted the metallic tang. She'd never seen genuine gold before—let alone touched or bit it. She'd really hoped it was counterfeit, which would've been a different lecture.

Rinzaan tucked his purse back in his chest pocket. Which was, luckily, hidden well enough under his scarf. “Why is this such a big deal? I thought you said it was safe, that the Benz wasn't that bad."

Kali sighed. She looked out at the busy market street, her whiskers low, and she hissed through her teeth. “Yeah, okay, it's- it's not always safe," she muttered. Seeing the annoyed look on Rinzaan's muzzle, Kali huffed. “Come on. You came down here with a scarf in the middle of the night. You know it's not totally safe!"

“What?" Rinzaan scrunched his nose. “No, I didn't. I didn't want anyone to recognize me. In case my parents found out."

Kali's ears flicked at this. For a moment, she thought he was pulling her tail. But he wasn't. By the worried waver in his tail, and the confused angle to his ears, he wasn't kidding at all. He thought he needed a disguise because of his parents–not for anything else. “You didn't want–'Mere, that's why? Because of your parents? Nobody in the Benz is ever going to talk to your parents." She ran her hands up over her muzzle and ears and dropped them at her sides. “I can't believe this."

“Well, I can't, either," Rinzaan grumbled. “You could've told me, and I–"

“Never would've come to see me. Yeah, I know." Kali sighed. “I didn't think you'd take what I said seriously. I mean, I was going to ask if you wanted to–" Kali hesitated. She saw Rinzaan's ears ripple under this scarf as they lifted.

“You were going to ask what?"

Kali bit down on her tongue, pinching it between pointed teeth. It was too late now. “I was going to ask if–if you'd want to see the Benz with me," she said, not even a whisper. “But I didn't think you would. It just sounded dumb."

Rinzaan frowned. “Why would you think that?"

“That it's dumb? I mean, look at how this turned out–"

“No. Why did you think I'd say no?" Rinzaan asked, his tail dropping. “If you'd asked me out, I, uh, I would've said yes."

His words weighed on her ears for a minute, before they sank in. She coughed away the trill in her throat. “Really? I didn't think—It just didn't sound like a good idea."

Rinzaan's tail darted up with a playful curl. “Yeah, well, messing around on the mast wasn't a good idea. But we did that."

Kali's whiskers lifted slightly. “Yeah," she agreed. “Yeah, we did."

For a moment, the commotion outside seemed muffled and distant. His gray eyes and charming smile stole all her senses away–except for the little flutter in her chest that rose into her throat. Because he didn't look away this time. He looked right at her.

For longer than usual, at least, until he grabbed the back of his neck and his gaze diverted towards the market.

“So," he said quietly, “what do we do now? Since I messed all this up."

Kali's ears flicked forward. She leaned out of the alley, peering at all the stalls and cats outside, her nose twitching as she sniffed. The savory scents from all the stalls were still so enticing. Especially since Kali hadn't eaten dinner yet–and she knew Rinzaan hadn't, either. And they were only two coins away from having dinner together.

“I mean, we can still go out," she said. “Just be a little more careful? Keep the gold pocketed, for one."

Rinzaan laughed. “Yeah, I won't make that mistake again. Anything else I should know? Or are you going to wait until I get mugged first?"

Kali tugged a corner of his hood and smiled. “Just keep your scarf up and let me do the talking," she said. “You'll be fine."

“Hold on. Why can't I talk?"

Kali scoffed. “Because you sound like a Dockie."

“I sound like a Dockie?" Rinzaan's nose bunched up higher, showing the tips of his short teeth. “What's that supposed to mean?"

“It means you sound like you have a purse full of gold coins in your pocket and a silver tongue to match." She saw the perplexed and equally insulted skewing of Rinzaan's ears. Kali rolled her eyes. “You sound like money," she explained. “Like an easy cat to scam."

“No, I don't. We sound the same."

Kali laughed. One pointed laugh that cut at Rinzaan's ears as they pinned back. “No," she said, “we definitely don't. Not when it comes to money. That's not a bad thing–it's just different. I'm not saying you sound weird or something just to itch at your pelt. I'm just saying it's different in the Benz." She lifted her gray tail, a show of good faith, which relaxed Rinzaan's muzzle and pulled his ears forward again. “I've lived here my whole life. I know how this place works. Like how you know Dockside better than I do." She added a swish to her tail this time, sweeping low against her ankles, and added a pretty smile at the end. “So, trust me on this. Please?"

Rinzaan huffed. She didn't know which part won him over. Probably the tail-and-smile show. Though he had a glint in his eye, and a slight sneer on his smiling lips, as he said, with utmost confidence, “I trust you, Kali, but you're still wrong."

“Oh, sure," Kali said, a witty curl bending her tail. “Whatever you say." She tugged on either side of Rinzaan's scarf. She shifted the hood forward and tucked in the edges. An attempt to cover the transition between his cream and brown fur and keep his half-believable guise as a plain Benz cat intact. Though his eyes, those deep blue-gray eyes, which Kali stared into longer than necessary, rather ruined his guise. They still shined too vividly, even in the shadowy recesses of his hood. “Believe what you want, but just let me do the talking. Got it?"

Rinzaan leaned forward, darting between her hands. He licked the bridge of Kali's nose, ruffling her fur, and grinned. “Fine. But we really don't sound different. At all."

“You're such a Dockie. Stubborn." Stubborn, with nothing between the ears, is what Benz cats usually said, but she left that last part out. Kali swiped her hand across her face. “You just can't accept that I'm right. 'Mere's stars, you're lucky you're cute."

She regretted it the moment she said it. Rinzaan's ears flicked, and his smile broadened. “Did you say I'm cute?"

“So, what if I did?" Kali brushed her face with the back of her hand, smoothing her ruffled fur. When she was finally ready, she saw Rinzaan's brown furred hand waiting for her. A trill bubbled in her throat again, but she still feigned annoyance as she alighted her hand on his. Though the warm tingle that coursed up her arm, as his fingers clasped around hers, made it hard to pretend.

“After you, I guess," Rinzaan said. He nodded towards the street, his large ears bouncing. “Since I'm not allowed to talk."

Kali laughed with all her whiskers. She squeezed his hand and tugged him back onto the busy street. Only a couple of cats cast sidelong glances at them, and their interest was fleeting. Plenty of cats darted in and out of alleys. Kali and Rinzaan weren't any different from the rest.

They returned to the food stall, where Kali paid three heavily debated silver for two boxes. She shoved them at Rinzaan, who only pouted for a little while, since his attempted chivalry was thwarted. His tail perked when she took his hand again, and the rough pink leather on her palm met his. The enticing smell of food, carefully balanced in flat, wooden rectangular boxes on his free hand, just below his nose, helped cheer him up, too.

“What's in it?" he asked.

“You'll find out." Kali pulled Rinzaan off to the side, avoiding a group of kittens that raced by. “In a minute."

She waited for the last two stragglers to dash by, giggling and chirping shrill laughs as they tried to catch up with their littermates. Then she shuffled them farther through the crowd, past two more houses, and stopped at another alley.

“This one," Kali said. She let his hand go and felt along the smooth boards. Familiar ripples and ridges guided her fingers across the wall until she found a notch. Rounded handholds that were nailed onto the side of the building led the way up onto the rooftop. Years of sun and sand had worn each block smooth. Some were so slight now; it took more claws than grip to scale.

Kali swiped the boxes from Rinzaan and tucked them under her arm. She hopped past the first couple of grip points, halfway up the wall, and climbed to the top. A practiced ease she had from the previous times she came here with Mikora, and more recently from all the climbing she did on Sandstalker.

Once at the top, she turned. She expected Rinzaan to wait somewhere below, his blue eyes peering up at her while he waited for further instructions. Instead, she nearly bumped whiskers-first into him.

“What now?" he asked, his tail flicking excitedly. “Are we jumping to the next house over?"

Kali laughed off her surprise and shook her head. “No. We're not trying anything like that. Not on your first night here." She took two steps, testing each wooden shingle. They stayed where they were, thankfully, and only one shifted when she tried to put weight on it. A weak point she avoided by stepping on the more secure shingles above it. Halfway across the rooftop, she stopped and set their boxes in a gap where previously loose shingles were missing and offered her hand.

“Just move slowly. They're more slip–"

Kali lunged forward, snatching Rinzaan's arm just as one of his feet skipped across a smooth tile. She kept him upright, with some help from his thrashing tail, and laughed. “I was trying to tell you to be careful. They're slippery."

“You made it look so easy!"

“I've been climbing on roofs for a while," Kali said with a sharp grin. “When the streets get too crowded, it's the only way to get around. Especially on the narrower streets."

Rinzaan teetered as he inched his way over, but he didn't slip again. With some guidance, and the aid of Kali's firm grip on his arm, he avoided the loose shingles and eventually stood beside her. Kali kept a firm grip until he was safely seated. Once he was, she dropped next to him with a relieved huff.

“I can't believe you walk on these," Rinzaan said. “Seems dangerous."

“It is, but if you're late for something, there's not much of an alternative." Kali wrapped her tail close, tucking most of it beneath her leg. “Mikora actually fell off a roof, and she broke her arm."

“She did? Is she okay?"

“She's fine," Kali said. “It happened a few years ago. She got lucky. It healed pretty well. But she can't pick up heavy stuff like she used to."

Kali cringed at the memory. For one second, Mikora was standing up on the roof. The next, she was gone, plummeting. That crack, when Mikora hit the boardwalk. The shriek–

Then Kali realized she was staring at her feet. She picked her muzzle back up and forced her ears forward. “So, well, yeah, it's pretty dangerous," she concluded.

“I didn't know."

“Like I said. It was a while ago." Kali perked her whiskers up. A more strained grin than intended, which she directed at all the cats in the street, who meandered to and from their jobs, bought food to take with them, or gathered at the intersection. So Rinzaan wouldn't see the bits of guilt clearing out of her eyes, as she pushed her mind back into the present. Like she always did when she thought about that day. “Besides, Mikora is fine now," Kali said. “And she was getting too old to work on ships, anyway."

Rinzaan brushed against her side as he shifted closer. He tossed his tail around Kali, across her own tail, and wrapped around her rear, as he usually did when they ate together. Every bit of contact he could get with her clothes or fur. Different this time, as he offered his silent comfort, as he leaned his shoulder into hers.

“So, I guess you don't climb on roofs often?" she asked. “At Dockside, I mean. The rooftops there."

Kali cringed. An obvious, crude attempt to change the subject. Rushed. Poorly thought out. But, by the ripple under his scarf, Rinzaan's ears perked curiously at the question. Feigned or otherwise, Kali couldn't tell, but her hackles eased either way when he answered, “Never. We can't climb rooftops at Dockside. The tiles get so hot, they'd burn the pads on your feet."

“Oh. I guess that's true." Kali prodded one shingle with her foot. It was warm underneath the pads of her feet, from the ambient air, but hardly as hot as they got during the early morning or late afternoon. Uncomfortable, but never hot enough to burn. “I've never thought about it before. I guess they don't get as hot."

“Because you're smart enough not to put glass in them," Rinzaan scoffed. “They're these blocks of glass and something else for some weird marbling effect."

“I think they use clay," Kali said. “I asked Mikora once. She said it's some sort of clay mixed with sand. They fire them at some forge on the southern edge."

“They make it here? I thought they imported them from overseas."

“Well, yeah, they do." Kali chuckled. “It's dirty, and it reeks, when they're melting stuff together."

“Ah. Right." Rinzaan shrugged. “Well, they're not functional at all. They look nice, fresh out of the crate, but you never see them other than on the palace dome. I'm not sure why we use them. I guess so the gulls can see them sparkle?"

“I'm sure the gulls appreciate it."

“If they do, they have a pretty vulgar way of showing it."

Kali laughed. Her whiskers felt lighter now. Though she hardly expected talking about rooftops and gulls to cheer her up as much as it did. She picked up the boxes from beside her and offered one to Rinzaan, which he took with an excited chirp.

“Be careful. The lid–"

Rinzaan hooked his claws in and yanked. The lid popped free, flying straight up and almost hitting his nose. It tumbled in front of his whiskers, bounced off his knee, and clattered down the shingles. His fur flared up, but he only stared with wide, round pupils as the lid tipped over the edge of the roof and disappeared with a distant clack.

“The lid has a tendency to, well, do that," Kali said. She kept her palm flat and tugged with her claws. The lid bounced against her palm, also popping free, but she didn't let it fly away like Rinzaan's.

“Should I go get that?"

“Don't worry about it. Someone will find it. They know where to take it." Kali lashed her tail, swatting against Rinzaan's back. He stopped staring at where his long-lost lid vanished, and he focused on his food instead. The curiosity of his twitching nose was piqued.

“So, this is it." Kali plucked up a small green square in her claws–a spoonful of meat bound in a green wrapper. Each one was only slightly larger than the coins Kali used to buy their meals. “It's a bunch of crab and whatever else cheap they get from the market and make it into this amazing mash."

Rinzaan scrunched his muzzle. “Why is it green?"

“They use kelp from the islands to wrap it. It keeps the moisture in."

“Like dough?"

“Sort of. But way less expensive." Kali smirked. Her explanation hardly alleviated the sour look contorting Rinzaan's muzzle. “Did your parents not make you eat your greens?"

“They did." Rinzaan picked through his food, scowling when he saw every piece was bundled in a tight green wrapper.

“It's different from the greens you ate as a kitten. I promise." Kali popped the piece in her claws into her mouth as if that might convince him. Rinzaan shuddered next to her, instead. Kali frowned, mid-chew. “You said you'd trust me."

“That was before I knew you liked greens," Rinzaan mumbled. “Now I'm not so sure."

“Just try it." Kali picked another couple of pieces out of her box. “Or are you still a kitten?"

Not a very cunning tactic, but it worked. Rinzaan snarled, but he turned his nose back to his box. He picked at his food with his claws until he found the smallest possible piece.

Kali watched him, grinning while she chewed. His whiskers tucked in flush against his face, apprehension creeping up his fur. He finally took a bite with an unnecessary, exaggerated pucker. An expression that vanished as the wrapper crackled and crinkled between his teeth. Replaced with delight, and an upward sweep of his tail behind Kali, as he savored every noisy crunch.

Kali laughed. “I told you it was different. These aren't the boiled stuff you're used to."

“What is it?" Rinzaan mumbled, as he grabbed two more. “How is this so good?"

“I can't say, exactly. They coat it with fat, the stuff harvested from the big crabs and mollusks. Have you seen it? That big layer just under the big top shell?" Rinzaan nodded. His mouth was too full to answer. Kali wasn't entirely sure he heard her over the crispy wrappers crunching between his teeth, but she continued anyway. “That stuff. They coat the greens and wrap up the meat. Then they sauté it in a massive skillet, twelve or more at a time. Mikora and I figured out that much, but we've never been able to replicate it. Something they put in the filling, some seasoning, it makes all the difference."

Rinzaan chewed his last few bits thoughtfully. He picked up the next piece, rolling it between his claws. “Do you cook?"

Kali chirped at the unexpected question, uncertain if his tone was a good or bad sort of curious. As she often was, when Dockies asked questions of her. “I mean, yeah. Sometimes," she answered with a wary lash of her tail, which bumped against his. “Not as often as Mikora does, but I know most of her recipes now. I'm guessing you don't."

“We have chefs," Rinzaan answered. “They make meals to keep us in 'acceptable breeding condition.' Nothing they cook is as good as this."

“Probably because–" Kali winced. “Never mind."

Rinzaan's ears perked. “What?"

“It's nothing."

“Come on." Rinzaan nudged her side. “What is it?"

Kali swallowed hard, and she shrugged. “The chefs are probably making it bland on purpose, because they don't like you—or not you. Maybe because they don't like your parents?"

Rinzaan dropped the morsel in his claws. His cheeks puffed, whiskers splaying, and he laughed into the night air. “Yeah, I bet you're right," he agreed once he had a breath. “That makes so much sense. It gets worse every time my mom complains. But every time she tries to find a new chef, they turn her down."

“Because chefs talk to each other," Kali said. “Constantly. Just non-stop. You've worked in the galley."

“They really do talk the entire time, don't they?"

“And you didn't hear half of it," Kali admitted. “They say more when Dockies aren't around."

Rinzaan didn't seem surprised, as he only shrugged at this news. “I'm sure they complain about how we don't scrub the crabs enough."

Of course he guessed it. After all the gritty meals they had on the ship, Rinzaan already knew. Kali laughed. “Yeah. They do." She glanced over at Rinzaan, who scraped the last shreds of tattered green fragments from the bottom. She took the last pieces from her box and tossed them into his. “How'd you guess?"

“I've heard that song about the sandy food plenty of times." He picked up one of Kali's cast-off pieces of crab and gave her an inquiring look. “You sure I should have these? I feel kind of bad taking your food. You paid for it."

“It's fine." Kali dropped her cheek on his bony shoulder with a satisfied sigh. “I'm not that hungry, anyway. And you tried to pay for it."

Rinzaan chuckled. “I did, even though that didn't go well at all." He chewed slower than before, taking more time to savor the last remaining bites of their meal.

When the last piece was gone, his tail twitched against Kali's side. The usual way it kicked up, when he worried about something.

“I, uh, didn't plan all this out very well," Rinzaan admitted. “When I got here, I thought you'd be happier to see me."

“I'm happy to see you," Kali said. “You just surprised me." She rubbed her cheek against him, as evidence. A soft purr rumbled from his throat, which mimicked Kali's. Not a second after, the rigid whiskers on his cheeks combed along the top of her head.

Her ears flicked up. The same sound as before. Sequential clicks across the shingles. She cracked an eye open, just as the other half of Rinzaan's box finished bouncing off tiles and fell off the edge. Kali shoved her muzzle into his scarf, trying to bury her furious laughter.

“Seriously?" Kali struggled to speak past her bubbling laughter. “You can't hold on to anything–"

Her words ended with a startled chirp, stolen from her lips as Rinzaan grabbed her cheek. He lifted her face from his scarf and shoved his muzzle against hers. A silencing kiss to pry her mind off everything Rinzaan kept knocking off the rooftop. The box in her lap, included, as his arm hooked around Kali's waist and pulled her closer.

She didn't even hear it hit the shingles past the delighted trill echoing in her ears.

Kali leaned into his embrace. Her lips pressed against his. His tongue slipped between her teeth, tangled with hers. Coarse, lusty licks, stealing the last of her breath away. Kali dug her claws into his shirt. Clinging onto the silken fabric, she could feel his heart racing under her palm. A quick, steady beat underlying the deep, steady purrs from his throat that rumbled through his chest.

Kali's ear flicked, twisting aside as her attention strayed. Though her muzzle was preoccupied, she felt a light tugging on her skirt, which she tried to ignore. Until she felt Rinzaan's fingers brush against her knee, when his hand slipped under her skirt. Kali would've trilled again, if his tongue weren't locked with hers in a passionate kiss. A pleasured mewl against Rinzaan's lips as his hand crept higher. She rather wished she hadn't worn pants today. If she had known this was where her night was headed, she would have gone without and suffered sandy legs.

As it was, she had to settle for his pawing at her thighs. His fingers dug into the fabric, ruffling the short fur underneath. They pressed onward between her thighs, caressing through her pants and underwear. She was lucky his lips stifled her purrs and whimpers. Otherwise, a couple cats on the streets below might've noticed.

One last kiss, his lips left hers. Kali chirped surprise and delight, as Rinzaan pressed his nose against her cheek and trailed down her neck. His rough tongue parted and pulled on her fur. The points of his sharp teeth grazed her skin. A delighted shiver sparked through Kali's pelt, bristling the fur on her quivering tail. She barely clenched her teeth in time, stopping a desperate mewl as she leaned farther into his arms–against his persistent fingers. Even when she could feel the light prick of his claws on her waist, and between her thighs. Claws that were getting too close to piercing her panties and sinking into the damp, soft flesh behind them.

Then another shiver coursed through her pelt, when she opened her eyes and saw Rinzaan's brown ears and pale fur.

Kali's sultry purring hitched, cracking into an alarmed chirrup. She shoved Rinzaan back. His hand flew out from her skirt, claws grating across the wooden shingles. Kali lunged and snatched Rinzaan's scarf, ignoring his startled yowl, and yanked it forward over his ears.

“Careful!" Her eyes darted down at the crowd below and across the rooftops. There was more activity at the intersection, a parade of instruments plucking and strumming their way through the crowd, which most cats pointed their whiskers towards. It didn't seem like anyone on the street, or the other rooftops saw them.

“Sorry. I wasn't thinking about it." Rinzaan leaned up and shifted the dark scarf on his shoulders, looping loose fabric and pulling the top edge forward on his ears. A little smile lit his muzzle. “It's hard to remember when I'm enjoying your fur."

The worried lashes of Kali's tail subsided, as a small smile, reflecting Rinzaan's, lifted her whiskers. “Fine." Kali grabbed the corners of his scarf, holding them in place as she pressed their noses together. “Then I'll keep your scarf in place. You can go back to nipping my neck."

She saw his ears turn beneath the dark fabric. “I wasn't nipping, was I?"

“You weren't," Kali agreed, a sly smile on her lips. “But you should. I kind of like it, when you do."

Rinzaan's tail flicked. Just as he leaned forward, his whiskers sweeping against Kali's shoulder, a single, resounding drumbeat echoed through the air. His ears pivoted away, his muzzle following, as all the cats around did. Their collective attention gathered at the corner of the street, where the band had holstered their violins. The single drummer, the source of their interruption, waited, with his drumstick aloft.

“What's going on?" Rinzaan asked, his nervous tail twitching again. “Do we need to leave?"

“It's nothing. They're just setting up the dance floor."

“Another one?"

Kali shrugged. “Yeah. Several bands travel around the Benz at night. Move to more popular areas to see if they can get tips. They clear out a space for dancing when they can." Kali pointed at the cats who cleared a wide circle around the band. All waiting with perked ears and tails. Past the crowd, she saw an old tomcat, a brown furred tabby, step up next to the drummer. “But this is slightly different." Kali scanned the distant sky, past the rooftops and the towering beams that suspended Mjau above them. Darkness in every direction. “I forgot about this. I guess it's about that time."

“Time for what?"

“Just watch the old tom and–Oh!" Kali leaned closer to Rinzaan. “And when there's a pause, yell Mjau-yah."

Rinzaan stared at her, mouthing what she just said, and he squinted at her. “I'm supposed to yell what?"

His questions ended with two drummed beats, which swept a silence across the crowd. Rinzaan's whiskers were still low, with a doubtful frown, but he turned to watch as instructed. Kali scooted closer, tucking her giddy tail beside her, and watched alongside him.

“Felines of Benz!" The tabby bellowed, his deep voice reaching even the farthest pointed ears on the rooftops. Another drumbeat punctuated his words. “We celebrate another beautiful night together, with clear starry skies and easy breathing. Now, we'll start our festivities the way we always do."

The tabby paused, waiting for the few chuckles to die down. The slight smile on his muzzle vanished, as he held up a hand, took a deep breath, and sang.

“We call out to the stars,

beyond the golden seas.

Where Elimere now resides

And reigns eternally."

“Mjau-yah!" Kali's voice joined the hundred others. A cry that every cat on this street, and the few streets over, echoed. She looked aside at Rinzaan, nudging him with her elbow, and he laughed.

Once the crowd fell back into a lull, the last enthusiastic cries died back into excited murmurs, the tabby continued,

“We call out past the sands

Beyond the depths so great,

To call our thanks for this grand night

And all the dancing we'll partake."

“Mjau-yah!"

More voices joined in this time. One of Kali's ears twisted, and a smile picked up her whiskers. She heard Rinzaan's beside her, cheering with everyone else with a wide grin on his muzzle and the rapt fascination in his eyes. His jittery, brown-tipped tail flicked with anticipation, while the tom sang the last verse.

“So we all sing along

With this grand melody,

To thank Elimere for all he's done

For Mjau, the cats, and sea!"

“Mjau-yah!"

It sounded like the entire Benz joined the last cheer. Every cat in every house, who perked up their ears, cried in agreement. Rinzaan burst into laughter, his tail still aflutter with excitement. “Mjau-yah?" he asked. “Really?"

“You don't know the nightly Benz-mantra?" Kali asked. “I thought you could hear it even at Dockside."

“No," Rinzaan said, wiping away his amused tears. “I've never heard it before. And we never say anything like that, either."

“That'd be too much fun," Kali said, her tail swishing mischievously. “I'm sure you can't risk taking time for silly songs and chants. Might mess with your breeding cycles or whatever."

Rinzaan laughed again. He caught his scarf before it fell away and pulled it forward as he shook his head. “It's funny, because I'm sure you're not wrong." He turned his attention back to the tabby and the awaiting band. “What happens next?"

“Well, more dancing, generally," Kali answered. “But, before that, there's the chant, and they'll sing one of the old shanties."

“Which one?"

Kali shrugged. “Whichever Elimere's speaker is in the mood for. They'll get started in a moment. See? They've got the violins up."

Rinzaan nodded. Kali watched the side of his muzzle, his eyes shadowed beneath the scarf over his ears. His irresistible grin, filled with a mix of delight and admiration, was as captivating as ever. Nostalgic, even, as Kali recalled that feeling, smiling the same way, the first time Mikora brought her to this same corner. She perched Kali on her shoulders, letting her see over all the ears and whiskers. She shared that sense of amazement and wonder, as every cat shouted together. Sang together. Danced together.

The same amazement plastered on Rinzaan's muzzle. There was nothing else in the world like it. And seeing Rinzaan enjoying it, just as much as she had, made a trill swell in her chest.

The tabby stepped aside, letting an older molly take his place. Elimere's speaker, by her colorful dress and embroidered shawl. Her sandy pelt ticked with gray at the ends, and more white on her muzzle than most other cats there. But her voice was silky, flowing over the crowd's ears as she spoke.

“Tonight," the speaker said, “We'll sing the song of the great colossus Touzim, who once reigned over our once blue seas, and the day of her defeat by the arrows of the Mjauzi. If you know the tale, please join me."

Kali turned her whiskers forward. Her muzzle brightened with a smile at the news. Though any of the shanties of the Mjau desert's grand colossi would've perked her tail.

The violins started first. Long, steady bows setting the stage for the lilting, solemn song.

The old molly held her hand to her heart, nodding along to the soft steady drum. Every cat around followed along, with swaying ears and tails. A collective breath, as the speaker raised her hands with a flourish of her shawl. And Kali, along with the other cats gathered below, joined her in song.

“Behold, sailors said, the beast before thee.

Teeth sharper than knives, and thousand rows deep.

The mother of sharks, borne from the deep blue.

Pray your soul to 'Mere, there's no escape for you.

Monster of ten leagues, surfing at waves peak,

Swimming the far seas in search of fresh meat.

Watch the water break, for the ocean tells,

When death skims surface to end all your sails–"

Kali hesitated, missing the start of the next stanza, when she realized Rinzaan's voice was absent. His whiskers weren't lifted, like hers were, and he looked at Kali strangely with his big ears askew.

“You haven't heard the song for Touzim before?" Kali asked.

“No, I have."

Something in his tone pricked Kali's ears, and she frowned. “Okay, then what's the matter?"

“How can you sing that stuff?" He asked. “About all the teeth and death?"

As if on cue, the next line spoke of Touzim's countless teeth mauling several ships. Goring sails and sundering hulls–a dramatic recounting of the colossi's feats. Kali chuckled. “Yeah, it's pretty corny."

“Corny? No, it's not corny. It's awful." Rinzaan leered over the crowd, frowning at their bright, beaming faces and cheerful voices. “Do they not teach about the colossi in the Benz?"

Kali's tail twitched. “Of course they do," she said slowly. A measured response, to keep her teeth in check. “Everyone knows the six colossi."

“They killed so many–thousands of cats over just a few decades," Rinzaan scoffed, his lip curled in disgust. “They were horrible monsters! Every time a cat set sail, they likely weren't coming back. It devastated trade–"

“Yeah, we learned all that, too," Kali said. With more teeth this time, as her muzzle tensed. “And, yeah, they sounded vicious, but that was a long time ago. And the records aren't clear how many they actually killed. Those were estimates."

“Are you seriously defending a sea monster right now?" Rinzaan scoffed. “And of all of them, Touzim? Touzim was one of the worst."

Kali shrugged. “I mean, she was a sea monster, sure, but she still sounded grand in her own right. Half the songs are about her tearing up ships, and the others are about how the sunlight glistened like rainbows on her scales. And it's not like we've forgotten everyone that lost their lives fighting her. That's why we still sing the songs." Kali gestured at the crowd. “We all know the colossi were bad. We're not wishing her back. I mean, this is a song celebrating her defeat."

Rinzaan huffed, but he didn't have a clever retort for that. The song recounted how the Mjauzi slayed Touzim after a century of her terrorizing the sea. He knew the song as well as she did, even if he wouldn't have any fun and sing it with the rest of the Benz cats. She could've let him pout, but his fluffed, twitching tail was too tempting. The way it lashed left and right, tapping on the tiles, she had to swat at it.

“That's not what's itching your tail, anyway." Kali leaned over towards Rinzaan, showing her teeth in a jeering grin. “You're really that scared of sharks, huh?"

“Um, no?" Rinzaan reeled at her accusation, his flustered tail lashing anew. “That has nothing to do with this."

“Sure, it doesn't," Kali said. “I bet if the song was about any of the other six, your tail wouldn't be in a knot."

“That's not funny."

“Yeah, it is. You've only just started sailing, haven't even seen a single scale, and you're scared. We don't even sail the shark waters. The Sandstalker hunts on the flats! There's never been a single shark spotted on the flats. They're all in the rapids." Kali saw how Rinzaan's ears were pinned. She was right. “You're scared of something you've never even seen!"

Rinzaan shoved himself onto his feet. He took a single step and stumbled, his foot slipping on an unsteady shingle. Kali reached for his arm, but he swatted her away. This time, his muzzle drew back from his teeth, a snarl matching his flattened ears, and he hissed.

Kali's fur fluffed. More startled than threatened by the venom-laden gesture. She'd never seen Rinzaan hiss before. Not once on the Sandstalker. Not at Masede or any of the other sailors—or even at the Dockies, when they were yanking on his tail.

Never at her. He only ever smiled at her.

“Wait." Kali got to her feet. She stayed a step behind, though she easily could've caught up with him. But, by his furious tail, he wouldn't appreciate her dashing ahead right now. “Rinzaan."

“Don't mind me. I'm just tucking my tail," he growled. “Like the coward I am."

“That's not what I said."

“You might as well–" He stumbled again. Kali hopped forward and caught his arm, helping him find a more stable footing. Once his tail righted, he returned Kali's concern with flattened ears and a renewed glare. “Just leave me alone. You can stay and enjoy–" He tossed up his claws, waving wildly at the cats and city around. So frustrated, he struggled to find the right words. “Whatever this is!"

Kali didn't let go of his sleeve. She sank her claws in, keeping hold of his arm, even when he tried to pull it away. “This?" Kali said, flashing her own teeth. “All this singing and dancing? The shanties and cramped streets? This is the Benz. We sing stupid songs in our free time. We drink and chant Mjau-yah for no real reason. Because it's a little joy we get to have." Kali's ears lowered. “It's not just your ancestors that were on all the ships that Touzim sank, too. They were the ancestors of all the cats of Mjau. Benz and Dockside. It wasn't two cities back then."

Rinzaan stopped trying to pull away, but his lip still curled. A suppressed snarl, as he tried to stay proper, despite being frustrated. “Yeah? So, I'm just a coward scared of old stories, then? An inconsiderate coward–"

“You're not." Kali sighed. She retracted her claws and smoothed her hackles beneath her palm. She looked back at the dancing. All the laughing cats, as they spun their partners around. “It does kind of look like we don't care. About the murder parts. I get that." Kali's tail lowered, brushing her ankles as it wavered. “And I sang the part about death a little too, well, happily."

Rinzaan's ears rose halfway, just enough to listen, as her voice dropped below the jubilant singing. His tail twitched. More curious than annoyed for the moment.

“I don't think you're a coward, either," Kali continued. She risked looking up at him, tense and ready to dart out of the way if he took a swipe at her. As any cat was, when they saw bared teeth and flared tails. “I shouldn't have said what I did. About being scared and the sharks. You're not–It's not wrong to be scared of them."

One of Rinzaan's ears lifted higher. He was listening now. Even though Kali didn't want him to hear this. She took a shaky breath. “I saw a shark once." She quickly held up her hands, when Rinzaan's eyes widened in alarm. “Not recently! Not while you were aboard. When I was younger, on a different ship, because Mikora and Zi- Captain Tulaziya, they–'' Kali shook her head. “Doesn't matter. Anyway, we were on a different ship. This one sailed the rapids. It didn't chase the ship, but we saw it. Closer than any of us wanted to. I don't blame you. For being sca–nervous. For being nervous about them." Kali shuddered. The only sound she remembered so clearly, apart from that time Mikora fell off the roof, was the sand shark's scream. Even from a distance, it made every hair on her hide stand on end. Just like her hair bristled now, recalling it. She grabbed her sleeves, brushing along the fabric to smooth down the disturbed fur below. “I saw one once, and it's not something I ever want to see again. I don't blame you. I really don't."

“But all this time, you've just acted like it's no big deal. Like it's ridiculous." Rinzaan's tail lashed. The more he thought back on it, the lower his ears sank again. Gradually slumping back down, until his scarf was almost flat again. “Why wouldn't you say something sooner?"

Kali hesitated. Her tail tucked against her ankles. “Because I was scared if I told you, if you knew you were right, that you would leave." Shame weighed on her, as she looked down at her feet. Try as she might, she couldn't lift her muzzle and look Rinzaan in the eye. Her whiskers were too heavy to lift. “I just didn't want you to leave. I'm sorry."

She could see Rinzaan's tail flitting behind him, an occasional flash of the brown tip past his legs, but she couldn't tell if he was angry or not. Not by his tail alone. She'd have to lift her eyes to know for certain. But if he was, he had every right to be.

What she did? What she said? It was selfish.

This whole time, Kali knew how worried he was. Even when he first stepped on the ship, he kept a more vigilant watch on the sands than any other Dockie. He laughed off their jokes about it, but his eyes always went back to the sands.

And, like the other Dockies, she joined in on it. The occasional jibe about a dune shifting, if they were on watch together. Mentioning there weren't sharks in the cargo bay whenever a sound from a crate spooked him. She didn't say it with exactly the same cruel intent as some of the Dockies did, when they made fun of Rinzaan, but that didn't make what she did any better.

Kali felt a tug on her sleeve. A single claw hooked into the loose fabric past her cuff. Reluctantly, she looked up at Rinzaan. His big ears were still lower than they usually were, his smile not as genuine, but he wasn't snarling anymore.

“If you'd told me," he said. “I–I probably would've stayed, or—" Rinzaan hesitated. “Maybe—maybe you're right. Maybe not. Not at first. I, um, I was pretty scared those first few weeks. I still am, I guess." Rinzaan pulled lightly on her arm. He stopped, when the simple motion drew him forward, and a loose shingle shifted. “It's kind of hard to stand up here. Can we get off the roof to talk about this?"

Kali frowned. Uncertain if she heard him right. Though, for a second, she couldn't hear anything at all, as the crowd burst into frenzied cheers following the conclusion of Touzim's song. She brought herself to raise her muzzle and raise her eyes from the rooftop. Still afraid she'd be met with a snarl, or a hiss, that she deserved. Yet, he wasn't angry. His eyes were soft, like they usually were, when he looked at her. Once the cheers died down, as the music started, Kali asked, “You still want to talk to me?"

Rinzaan's whiskers lightened, rising higher with his nervous smile. “Yeah," he said, “I do."

Kali gave him a numb nod. Her tail still wavered as they sidled to the roof's edge. Torn between nervous flicks and twitches and staying tucked against her legs. It didn't help much with balancing, but Rinzaan only slipped once more before they reached the makeshift ladder. Before Kali knew it, they were back in the alley. The houses on either side muffled the chatter and festivities, and scant music crept through the gap.

With his feet on the boardwalk, Rinzaan sighed with relief. His lightly fluffed tail smoothed down again. “I think I might be a little scared of these rooftops, too."

Kali let a single laugh slip but nothing more. She still wasn't sure where her footing with Rinzaan was after a quarrel like that. It might still be as precarious as when they were on the slick shingled roof.

“So, like I was saying," Rinzaan said. “I'm–I really am scared of sharks." He seemed relieved to say it, now that their feet were on solid boards again. “But I really like sailing with you, too. I—I really like you." Rinzaan's tail lowered. “Can we just forget this happened and start over? I didn't want tonight to go like this and–and I'm sorry I hissed at you."

He mumbled the last part, which brought a smile to Kali's lips. Rinzaan was unnecessarily apologetic, considering what she said–what she did. He really didn't have a single malicious bone in his pelt. Not even the tip of his nervous, twitchy tail.

“We can," Kali agreed. She risked a perk of her tail. But, of course, Rinzaan didn't mind. The end of his tail lifted, too. “But I don't want to forget the entire night. I did like the kissing part."

“We could go back to the kissing part. I'd kind of like it if we did." He glanced over Kali's shoulder. “But, maybe not in the dirty alley?"

“Dirty?" Kali scoffed.

She started to object, but as she looked in the alleyway, she couldn't disagree. Between the broken bottles, discarded crates, and piles of unswept sand, this was among the grungier alleys she'd seen in the Benz. Not including the discarded scraps of greasy crab and the accompanying rank smell of rotting shellfish.

“Okay, you're right this time," Kali said. “Never mind. This is pretty bad."

“Oh, you can admit that I'm right, but only about a dirty alley?"

Kali chuckled, but she didn't take the bait. They had argued enough for one night—for a lifetime, really. If they were going to keep bickering, she at least wanted to do it somewhere she could tear his clothes off at the same time.

Kali straightened his scarf, covering a bit of white fur on his neck. “I might know somewhere we can go," she said with a flirty glance up at him. “If you want."

She didn't need to wait for an answer. The lift in his tail said enough. As did his outstretched fingers, which invited her to take his hand one more time. Despite the secrets she kept from him, the teasing, and the arguing–after all that, he still so charmingly offered his hand. Like he could sweep her away with him, even though he hardly knew where to go. He would lead them in circles, in the confusing network of Benz streets, and Kali would let him. As long as he smiled, like he did, and took her hand.

But maybe not today. Enough had gone wrong, between the dancing and the singing. The rest of the night? Kali was going to save that. She grabbed his hand and ushered them into the street, without bothering to check either way.

There was one place Rinzaan wouldn't have to hide his ears. A place where they wouldn't have to shout over music or wrestle against the crowds. Where they probably should've stayed, to begin with.

“Where are we headed?" Rinzaan asked, shouting over the boisterous street.

“To my house," Kali called back, casting a grin over her shoulder. “Mikora should be gone by now. It'll just be you and me. Unless you have any objections?"

He didn't have any objections. Instead, he quickened his pace, until he was next to Kali, and his lips to her ear. “I better be able to take this scarf off," he whispered. “So, I can bury my face in your pelt."

Kali swept a hand down her neck, trying to smooth her fur and brush away the tickling sensation on her skin. Though her pelt was as riled by his words as his lips and whiskers at her ear. She tugged his hood forward, grinned, and spun away. Determined, now, to get him back to her house–her room. Into her hammock, where Rinzaan didn't need to worry. Because neither of them would be wearing scarves. Neither would be wearing anything at all.

A thought that brought an airy lift to her gray tail, as they weaved their way through the crowded Benz streets. With Rinzaan's hand, his smooth palm fast against hers, Kali's whiskers bounced up with a broad, cheerful smile. As all felt right again, despite the couple setbacks.

So, she continued on, chatting and laughing, leading Rinzaan back towards her home. Completely unaware of dark alleys they passed, and the baleful eyes that watched them.