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Even in his expertise as a master trap-maker, Ikkit was having difficulty imagining horrible enough deaths for the villagers surrounding him.

It had been hours. Hours! Ikkit's tail had already gone numb, and his feet and hands were beginning to follow suit. Whoever had first discovered snow and decided "Yes, this is where we shall build our village" should have been hung upside down by a snare, then shot, and then dipped in acid, and then...

See, that was the problem right there. The cold was even starting to get to his brain. If he were warm, he could have devised a brilliant masterwork of wire and snapping steel and taut wood that would have entertained even a majestic dragon with the novelty of its splatter. Now, though, his thoughts crawled along like a one-legged adventurer clawing for his last healing potion--just inches out of reach.

"Cold." Ikkit complained.

"Hush, squire." Sir Jayrith snapped. The knight stood at ease outside the tavern, staring into the middle distance. "Saying it a third time won't make you any warmer. A knight must learn patience and discipline."

Ikkit stomped unhappy, but no amount of circulation was going to warm him up. Kobolds just couldn't hold heat. Sir Jayrith said it was something about cold blood, but Ikkit prefered to keep his blood on the inside and chose not to find out for sure. "They doing this to be mean." Around him, the village was bustling towards evening. Villagers returned from fields and locked up shops, and in their rush to whatever warm heaths they had, spared an unkind glare at the knight and his half-frozen kobold squire.

"Yes, they are." Chain mail jingled as the knight shrugged. "But no part of what they're doing is illegal. Wrong, perhaps, but it's not our place to be enforcing wrong from right. Only law from un-law."

It was an interminable amount of time before he could find the words to respond, as his brain was feeling sluggish. "Ikkit think you should eat them." He spared an evil glare for a washer-woman who was staring at him from a nearby corner. She gripped her shift, then turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

"Squire!" The knight turned towards the impertinent little kobold, but before he could start in on his freezing ward, the door to the tavern opened.

"So sorry! So sorry sir knight." The tavern keeper was rotund, and the effort of waddling appeared to make him sweat. "No room tonight. All the benches full, and the stable packed to the-"

"You might wish to go catch them, then."

The tavern keeper paused in his apologies.

"Catch?"

"Yes. The horses."

Chins wobbled. "What horses?"

"The ones that you said were packing the stable. I just stabled my own horse, as it appears your stable boy had been ordered inside to work the tables, since you were so busy. There were no other horses in the stable, so I can only assume the rest of them have escaped and are now running away."

Sir Jayrith turned around and inspected the ground approaching the nearby stable. Clean, untouched snow piled against its walls, with a lonely single set of hoofprints leading to its door.

"And quickly, I would suggest, as it appears they are elven horses--ones that leave no traces in the snow."

The tavern keeper's mouth opened and closed like a beached fish for a moment. "Ah! It appears those guests have departed! I must have missed--But still! No, all of our benches are--"

"Empty, as far as I can tell." Sir Jayrith remarked as he pushed the door behind the spherical man. A blast of warmth erupted from the depths of the inn. Ikkit leaned into the heat, and only caught himself from falling forward when Sir Jayrith's leg interceded. The kobold's hands wrapped around the leather bulk of the knight's boots as the heat worked its soporific magic.

"Squire! On your feet. It appears there's enough room in the tavern for us, finally."

"Oh, sir knight, if only that were true, I... This is Lord Everly." The tavern keeper blustered in and pointed at a disheveled human who appeared to be the local rough. Actually, as Ikkit slinked into the warmth between the proprietor's legs, he noted that the "Lord Everly" appeared to be more like two of the local roughs jammed together into one intimidating body. A massive torso only barely had room to fit titanic shoulders, who begrudgingly made room for an unfortunately average-sized head. "He owns all the empty seats, and--"

"Lord Everly?" Without missing a step, Sir Jayrith strode across the obstacle course that was the inn's interior. "Ah, good, that makes this much easier. You must be recently landed, I presume."

The unfortunate tavern-goer stood, though with the way his upper body dominated the room, it looked more like the rest of the tavern had simply descended. He looked at the knight's proffered hand and grunted.

"Ah. Well, while I have no cause and no authority to demand anything of your loyal servants..." The knight spared a glance for the sweating innkeeper. "The landed gentry are obliged to offer what aid any knights of the realm might request. And that is quite thoroughly legal."

The tavern keeper licked his lips nervously.

"And enforceable."

The tavern keeper's adam's apple bobbed.

"Unless someone has been lying to me. Which would be unfortunate, as while keeping a knight out in the cold isn't technically illegal, lying to him is."

The questionably Lord Everly grunted again.

"What his lordship means to say, is..." The tavern keeper blurted. "Is that he will obviously allow you to occupy some of his seats. Which are his. But can be yours for the night."

Sir Jayrith nodded curtly. In a fit of relief, the rotund proprietor gestured them over towards a darkened corner, furthest from the hearth.

Ikkit didn't mind as he slumped onto a bench. The feeling was finally starting to come back to his tail. In the middle of their table was a fat sallow candle. The kobold held his hands up to the flame, and though it wasn't particularly warm, it was comparatively heavenly. The bench sagged as the knight settled next to him. "Meat and ale. And don't bother telling me you don't have any. I saw into your larder from the stables."

The tavern keeper squawked a response and disappeared. Moments later, the soft swishing of fabric alerted Ikkit that someone else was close by.

"Oh, you poor dear!" A furred paw landed on his head, and Ikkit looked up. A broad feline muzzle stared down at him, concern written across her features. "Did that thoughtless oaf have you out in the cold this whole time?"

Two ales plonked onto the table in front of them. Then their server turned to look at the room. Seemingly assured that she was safe to misbehave, the cat girl swiped a candle from another nearby table and set it next to the other on their table.

Heat! Kindness! And the first friendly face since he'd left kobold lands to start his squireship! His eyes went wide, and a broad grin spread Ikkit's face. "Ikkit brave squire to Sir Knight. Kobold bear any cold to stay by his side!"

The server girl persisted through the way-too-many-teeth grin that Ikkit was giving her to pet his head. "I'm so sorry. Sir squire, I hope your travel hasn't been too arduous."

"Nope!" Ikkit yipped, loud enough that unhappy eyes turned his way, before going back to their ales. "Not seen any ardy-usses on trail. Just trees. And snow. Mostly boring on travel. And lonely."

Next to him, Sir Jayrith snorted into his ale.

"Sir Knight good for company." The kobold hastened to add. "But no kobolds. No gnolls or lizardmen or anything more like little squire. Just humans."

"Something wrong with humans?" The knight at his side asked. The question had barbs.

"Nope!" Ikkit shrugged. "Not wrong. Just miss the feel of scales or fur under fingers. Lots different than skin."

"Squire-"

"Not that Ikkit touch skin often, either!" At that, Sir Jayrith disappeared back into his mug. "But, cat-lady understand? Little things, right?"

The serving girl gave the kobold a level gaze that pinned him to the seat. Then, like the sun emerging from behind clouds, a smile broke across her face. "Oh, you're cute. I'll be back with your dinners in a moment, Sir Knight. And Little Squire." She gave him a wink, then bustled her way back behind the bar. She wore a floor-length dress that lifted slightly at the back where her tail was straining at the fabric.

"Don't you dare." Sir Jayrith scowled into his ale.

Ikkit lifted his mug with both hands. His lips weren't designed for this kind of vessel, so half of the ale managed to find its way down the kobold's front while he attempted to quaff. The knight ignored it. When the kobold had drunk a snoutfull, he plopped the mug back on the table. "Kobold dares."

The knight sighed. "Am I not enough to keep you content, little squire?"

Ikkit couldn't help but let his features turn downcast momentarily. For all that the cold had soured his mood, the kobold did care about the knight. He'd been lying to himself about the server being the first friendly face. Sir Jayrith was stern, but, well, he had qualities.

"Ikkit sorry. If great Knight want, kobold will go back to room and be..." Ikkit's mouth worked, but the word wouldn't come.

"Chaste?" Sir Jayrith supplied.

"Chaste kobold. If Sir Knight want--"

"Oh hells, Ikkit. You know I can't when you make that face."

Ikkit looked up from his sudden downcast depression.

"Fine." Sir Jayrith took another tug at his ale. "Have your fun. But if we're ever going to make a knight of you, we're going to need to teach you a little self-discipline."

"Kobold will discipline self later."

The knight coughed into his ale, then laughed.

"Thank you, squire. It's been a long and cold day. I needed that. Sorry I had you waiting out in the cold."

Ikkit rubbed his hands at the dual candles. "Will make kobold strong and pay-shent! Also, forgotten now, because warm."

Sir Jayrith reached over and rubbed Ikkit's head. "That it will."

Behind the bar, the waitress appeared with a plate of something brown and steaming in each hand.

"I wish I knew how you did it." Sir Jayreth mused as the cat girl bustled towards them, knocking wayward stools and benches out of her way.

"Did what?" Ikkit asked.

"This." Jayrith lifted his ale to his mouth and sipped as the plates clattered onto their table.

"Here we go, our valiant knight and his squire. Two plates of our best." She paused momentarily. Her ears perked on top of her head. "Little squire, did you find our ale not to your liking? You have it all down your front.

"Cups just not made for kobold mouth." Jayrith's quip forgotten, Ikkit mooned eyes at the cat's friendly face. "Kobold snouts narrow. Good for getting into tight places. Not so good with cups."

"I see. Poor kobold. If only we had a way to give you a drink. Not a cup. A saucer wouldn't work either. Hmmm. I'm having trouble thinking of something suitable." She gave him a level gaze. Her mouth was serious, but her eyes were laughing.

"Oh yes." Ikkit picked a lump of half-dissolved meat from the stew-like substance on his plate and snapped it from his fingers. Gravy ran down his chin. "In home, kobolds drink from nature. Pools, or streams. Or waterfalls. That Ikkit's favorite. Waterfalls. Streaming down from somewhere hidden. Refreshing. Tasty like morning dew."

"Oh gods, you two. Must I listen to this?" Sir Jayrith grumbled from the next seat.

The waitress ignored him. "Well, I must make a round of the room, or the owner will have my tail. But it was nice to meet you, squire. Oh, you got gravy down your front. Here, use this to clean it up?" She lifted the hem of her dress towards the kobold.

Ikkit looked back at his knight, who made a disgusted shooing motion. A glance around the room showed no one in particular paying attention. So with a silent duck and weave, the kobold sneaked beneath the lifted dress.

Beneath, the tavern's lights filtered through fabric to create a dim aura of patterns and fur. The cat-lady's fur was grey with tiger stripes that traveled all the way up her legs, then faded to cream between her thighs. Ikkit's gaze (and fingers) followed those pillars of fur and flesh straight up to where they met. Clever fingers ran over thin fabric hiding tender flesh. Even while moving, the legs that surrounded him gave a shiver.

"Jimmy! Orwell! Top you off, or ready for a meal?" The serving girl's voice didn't even quiver as the kobold's fingers pulled aside the thin material of her underclothes and pushed his snout up flush against warm fur and skin.

Mutters and grunts were the only audible responses, but that seemed to be good enough for her. She pivoted on the spot, and counting on her voluminous dress to hide him, she strode with measured steps. Ikkit couldn't tell where she was going--nor did he care. All that mattered was that he stayed central as those striped pillars moved around him. Back and forward, then turn. The cat woman stopped, and Ikkit felt wood against him as the serving girl found the back of the bar.

"Ready for a pint, luv?" Her voice was perky and loud. She must have been speaking to someone on the opposite side of the bar, but the kobold knew the words were for him. He pushed his mouth up and tongue glazed across her thinly furred lips, struggling at the taut under-things that were threatening to slide back across her bared lips. The faint tang of excitement greeted his tongue as his fingers tugged at the fabric desperately to make more room. "Got a new brew in. Think it'll be to your taste."

The sound of hydraulics and rushing beer assaulted Ikkit's ears as the serving girl drew a pint. And while above her hands were busy with the mug and tap, below her legs spread and a hot dribble kissed the kobold's snout. Thirsty and desperate, he pushed up and lassoed the underwear hem around his nose as he pushed upwards. He felt her smooth, accepting flesh spread around his tongue as the first stuttering spray of bitter liquid filled his mouth.

"There you go, m'lord. One for you as well, Sam?"

The babble above was lost on Ikkit as he drank. He'd have to apologize later for the thin claw-marks he left in her fur as he tugged himself up towards the source, thirsty for more. The stream was jittery, stopping and restarting every time the serving girl shifted above him. Not satisfied with just the feline brew, Ikkit's fingers danced their merry waltz. Tips pulled the cat girl's lips wider. Claws dragged over her belly. One errant thumb pushed itself into her to the knuckle.

"Five copper. On your tab, Ga-aaaa-ry?"

"You alright back there, Gina?" A male voice asked. The bitter drink waned. Using tongue and finger, Ikkit explored the exotic feline anatomy. Smooth flesh, so soft and slick against his scales, slid under his soft caress. Near the apex of her slit, the tap for his hot beverage lay hidden between silken lips that kissed at his snout. Just below, a wider entrance sucked at his fingers, first one and then two. What he wouldn't give to--but no. Sir Jayrith had taught him patience, hadn't he? The serving girl had kindly provided a drink. Something in his knightly training suggested that begging for more would be churlish. Still, a kobold can dream, and dream Ikkit did. He imagined just how it would feel as his tongue pushed into her. Velvety walls squeezing and gripping, as more of her heady draft filled his mouth.

"Oh, just light headed all of a sudden." Ikkit could feel why, as the slick walls clenched around his fingers and the spray he'd been drinking stopped. His tongue quested for more, but all he could catch was spatters of her excited release as it dribbled and squirted out from around his thumb.

"Need a seat? You can-"

"Nah. Feeling better now. Mutton for you tonight, Gary?"

"You know it. And give me some of the choice bits at the center--not just all gristle tonight, right?"

"Choice bits cost extra, and you know it."

"Aye. Can't fault me for tryin'. Bring it, I can spare a copper or two."

"Be back in a moment with it, then." The legs around Ikkit churned, and he scampered to keep up. He even tripped as they passed through the doorframe and the floor lifted underfoot. He caught himself in time, though, crawling on all fours between the shivering legs that led him back into the kitchens.

"Holy hell, squire. Thirsty little devil, aren't you?" The cat lady whispered. Quiet filled the kobold's fabric-bordered chamber. As she'd moved, he'd lost hold of the thin fabric under-things she wore, and before he could move them aside again, dark liquid beaded at the cloth, then spattered his face as she restarted the spray. Ikkit's fingers couldn't move fast enough to tug at the hem, moving it aside to push his scaled lips up against hers again thirstily. More of the tasty brew dribbled down his throat. Light flooded in as she lifted her dress. Wide, laughing eyes stared down at the kobold as he looked reverently back up at her from between her spread legs as she urinated into his open mouth. "I'd heard kobolds were kinky, but I never imagined--"

She chewed her lips. Beneath her, the kobold twisted and pushed, angling himself to drink from her spread slit. Seemingly making up her mind, she pushed Ikkit away and sat back against the wall. "You've got a minute before everyone wonders where their meal's gone." Her own fingers pulled the fabric of her under-things aside as she spread her legs. Dress bunched up around her waist where she kept it out of the way.

Ikkit needed no further invitation. He threw herself against her belly. Her laugh filled his ears as her hands tugged at his body to move him just right. Ikkit felt delicate fingers on his exposed prick as the cat lady pulled him up. Then soft skin kissed his tip, and he was inside.

The kobold buried his face in her voluminous dress as the slick tunnel caressed him. "Shh!" She begged him to silence as he let out little "Ruh! Ruh!" sounds. He looked up and saw that she was biting the hem of her own dress to stay quiet. He dragged his claws down her belly, and she shivered. He thrust, and her legs curled to hug him tighter.

"That's it. Fffff, oh, squire." She whispered as she felt him start to twitch in her grasp. Her hands grabbed a serving towel from a nearby table as the kobold's exuberence started to run down her leg. Ikkit held still as his body rewarded him--waves of heat and joy and bliss floating down his spine as he let loose. He could feel her hands beneath him, dabbing with her cloth before it could ruin her dress.

Then hands lifted him and put him back on his feet. Gina stood shakily, and her face pulled back into her professional, aloof grin.

"You're my first squire." She whispered.

"And first cat. Tasty."

"I'd hope so."

"Angry like wild mountain stream."

"Is that a complaint?"

"Kobold like mountain streams."

"Good." The serving girl dithered as she gathered mutton stew from the pot above the fireplace. "Staying the night?"

"With Sir Knight!"

The cat stuck out her tongue in displeasure.

"Not discount Sir Jayrith! Has hidden features."

"Well, unless he's hung like a tree, I think I'd prefer."

"Trust squire?"

Gina hesitated, then as she put three bowls onto a tray, she nodded.

"Then Ikkit see you tonight."

"Fine. But not if Ikkit isn't quiet and sneaky."

"Like shadow!"

Back at their table, Sir Jayrith flinched as Ikkit climbed back onto his stool.

"Holy hell, squire. You have to teach me how you do that."

"Is kobold trick." Ikkit shrugged as he started shoveling cold stew into his mouth.

Sir Jayrith rolled his eyes. "Did you act with honor and chivalry?"

Ikkit shrugged.

"Squire?"

"Yes?" The kobold guessed.

The knight kneaded at his temple. "Is she happy?"

"Oh! Very yes."

"Good." The knight played the remaining meat in his bowl around. "Ikkit?"

"Yes sir?"

"Tonight your ass is mine."

"Yes sir!"