FSE

Campfire Gaggle (Otherwise Untitled)

Story by Moriar on SoFurry

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#86 of Short Stories

An old mechanic provides his opinion on why the car of a pair of ferrets is making that strange noise.

~ The whickering glimmers of the campfire's light gingerly illuminated the fennec's face as he stood atop an upturned bucket and leaned in close to listen to the sounds of the car's engine. Beneath his inspection rumbled along one of the old cheaply built rattleboxes that held itself to life more stubbornly than the setting sun. The fennec seemed to pay particular attention in the moments between the verses of the singing hyena, some distance away and utterly proud of himself, belted out in honor of his homeland amongst the glory of flames. The fuzz of his face, grayed with age, scrunched up as he reckoned his way through the symptoms described and evidence heard before looking up to the anxious pair of ferrets with his report.

~ "Whelp, ya' got a leak in yer head gasket. More cost to fix than to buy two of these at the docks, I'd consider.", he told it to them flatly. The taller weasel seemed to deflate a bit, while the shorter seemed to be responding towards reality with a bit of rage. The seasoned mechanic continued, "That wispy rattle is the steam in the timing chain, when the coolant gets to its boilin'. Jest open up that oil cap every time you stop for a break, and it'll keep running to the coast, at leasts." Both mustelides seemed to light up even as he continued into the warnings, "But it'll be puttin' oil into the coolant, and rust into the works overall. When ya' get to the coast and skip off, be sure to tell whoever you sell this thing to. That kinda luck's not worth the hundr'd or so difference in price."

~ The old fox fixed them with a stubborn stare, as though to impose upon them a sense of obligation of truth told forward. Satisfied with the tone of their nod, "At that, I'll be gettin' back to the party. Francine is almost done with his song, and that gryphon keeps smiling at me." His old muzzle curling into a grin, "I have a chance with h'r, I think." A spring in his step as he hopped down from the bucket to bound back towards the circle of folks about the fire.

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