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"If you keep using wide swings like that, Inigo, you're going to get yourself killed," Faula explained as she effortlessly sidestepped Inigo's overextended horizontal strike.

Today was knife training, Faula's favorite, and Alarice was kind enough to let her use her home's basement for combat training with Inigo. Sure, the high quality firearms Alarice was able to supply Faula with were certainly more efficient at dropping opponents, but there was just something satisfying about the sensation of stabbing a person and twisting the blade that just made Faula's heart jump with joy. No matter how far the technology for firearms advanced, knives would always be Faula's weapon of choice.

Inigo tensed up and then came at Faula once more with a fierce lunge of his rubber knife. In a flash, the tall yet agile brown wolf dodged his strike, stepped up and deftly brought the edge of her rubber knife to Inigo's throat, lightly tapping it against the vulnerable flesh to signal his failure. The bat mega bat sighed and relaxed his battle posture. Faula followed suite, and looked at him with a stern, authoritative expression. "It's fine if your cuts aren't deep; just make them more often or make sure to poison your blade. Killing your opponent quickly and flashily is fine, but there's no point if you just get yourself killed in the process. Our main purpose as bodyguards is not to slaughter our opponents; it's to protect Alarice. And you're no good to Alarice dead."

Inigo huffed and ruffled his head hair in frustration in contemplation of his error. "Right, right..." he said as Faula backed up to her starting position.

Despite the fact that in all of their sparring matches the bat hadn't gotten a single strike on her, Faula was quite impressed by the rate at which Inigo was progressing. He didn't leave himself entirely open until his ninth strike this round, when at the beginning of his training just a few weeks ago he could hardly tell the sharp end of a dagger from the grip. And then there was the fact that he was battling with those wings... it was only by a slight margin, but they were certainly slowing down his strikes and movements. Alarice was scheduling to get them removed fairly soon, and if all things go well then he was about to get even quicker. He really was a natural and sure to be a great help on future escorts; Alarice selected well.

Inigo went over to the edge of the blue training mat and picked up his balled up cotton shirt, using it to soak up the sweat on his brow. Suddenly, the black bat then started smiling wickedly as he addressed his combat mentor. "Okay, okay, I get it. So it's no important how deep you stick it in; it's about how you handle your... tool."

...But his personality certainly left something to be desired. Faula found there to be nothing funny about making sex jokes nonstop, and the few times he actually wasn't talking about sex he was running his mouth about something else that the wolf didn't care to hear. It was as though he never caught on that she was just not interested as to what he had to say, being the firm believer of actions speaking louder than words that she was. It was strange, because the first few days she worked with the bat he was rather quiet, but once he acclimated himself to his new work environment, he just would not relent with the chatter and sexual innuendoes. But above all else, the worst part about Inigo was the way the bat looked at her; he kept on gazing her as though he was undressing her with his eyes... creepy. If for whatever reason Faula found herself in real combat against Inigo, she knew that she would stab him in the eyes first, not the throat.

But seriously though, what the hell? The kid couldn't have been any older than seventeen, yet all he seemed to talk about was sex. Like, 'Don't you just think Geoffrey is the most fuckable little otter you've ever seen, Faula?' or, 'Have you ever done it with a feral animal before, Faula?' or, 'Do you think incest is really such a bad thing Faula?' or 'Hey Faula, you wanna have sex?' Why was sex all that men seemed to care about?!

It was especially frustrating for Faula who cared nothing for intimacy with other people. She didn't know why, but she was just never able to feel sexually stimulated, so of course having intercourse was the last thing on her mind. Faula didn't know why that was; she just assumed it was the way she was born. People always told her that she was 'missing out', but it wasn't as though she could miss something she never had.

Faula just shook her head and rolled her eyes at Inigo's lewd comment. "Sure... Well anyway, we've been at it for about an hour, so it's about time for a break. We'll rest for fifteen minutes before we finish up today's lesson," the brown wolf commented as she casually tossed her rubber knife on the blue training mat beneath her feet.

Inigo let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank the gods. I swear, my ass is more sore than this one time I-"

"Stop! I don't want to hear it," Faula interrupted. Inigo gave Faula a big, amused smile after hearing her interjection. That little fucker sure got his kicks from annoying her.

"Just sit down and stay quiet. Now, I'm going to prepare us some tea to hydrate ourselves; today we'll be having a vanilla and mint blend," she stated, evidently irritated with the bat. Tea was the brown wolf's favorite drink ever since she began her combat training at ten, which was around the time she discovered it; tea helped her calm down and keep her focused, and she was always fond of bitter drinks.

What made Alarice's basement so good was that there was an honest-to-god gas stove installed in it, perfect for boiling water and brewing tea after a workout. The basement was already impressive enough with having a small shooting range, several filled weapon racks, and ample ready-to-go first aid equipment, but the addition of a stove and counter for brewing tea made it practically Faula's favorite place in all of Newport. She made sure to bring her collection of herbs, spices, mugs and tea bags after the installation was complete. Sure, the whitewashed walls and basic cement flooring might make the room a bit dull, but Faula always preferred the substance of a rooms contents rather than the superficiality of its décor.

As Faula made her way over to the shiny new stove and counter in the corner, she heard Inigo scoff playfully. "Again with the hot tea? Why not drink something cold once in a while? Having a hot drink after an intense exercise is so...unrefreshing. I'd rather drink cool piss than hot tea right now," the tired bat said, flicking a wrist to demonstrate his distaste.

Faula responded with a sharp 'tsk' noise. "Keep your ignorant opinions to yourself; tea is good for you. And it calms me down; keeps me from losing my cool and accidently killing you every time you say something infuriating, which might I remind you, happens quite frequently," she countered as she took a tea kettle from the wooden rack on the wall, filled it with water from the nearby sink. "Plus, the complexity, depth, and variety of the flavors make it an art as much as a drink," she stated very academically.

Inigo rolled his eyes and took a seat against the white-washed wall at the other side of the room. "It's all the same bitter vegetable water to me," he said with an obnoxiously cocky smirk.

Faula knew that he was probably just trying to irritate her, but it got to her regardless. "Shut your trap you ungrateful runt; you should be glad I'm giving you anything to drink at all!" she snarled, the curt retort only causing Inigo to grin proudly as if he had beaten her in a battle of wits. She placed the tea kettle on the largest burner and cranked it up to full heat. It would take the water a good five minutes to come to a full boil, and the tea bags would need at least two minutes to sit in the water to be adequately flavorful.

Faula angrily made her way over to the wall Inigo was sitting by, taking a seat a good few feet away from him. As much as she knew she was going to hate it, she had to start a conversation with the little devil to get him to talk about anything other than sex. Because God knew that was the last thing she cared to talk about.

"So, Inigo, what's your story?" she asked after labored attempt to muster the will to actually start a conversation. Inigo looked at Faula with a curiously raised eyebrow; it was certainly rare for the wolf to show any signs of interest in Inigo's life. Faula huffed. "We've been training together for about a month now and all I know is that you're the horniest little fucker I've ever met," she explained dryly.

The bat's lips curled into a devilish smile. "Only when I'm around you, my dear. Your forbidden fruit drives me wild with temptation you see..."

"Just answer the damn question," she demanded through gritted teeth.

"Fine, fine," the bat said with a disengaging wave of both claws. "So as you can probably tell, I'm not originally from around here," he said, pointing to his blood red hair to exemplify.

Faula nodded coolly; red hair like that never occurred naturally to any of the furs in Newport. The tribal people had been known to occasionally have bizarre hair colors. Well, those of them that had human-esque head hair anyway. Faula even heard some theories that their strange hair colors was a symbol of the tribal people's demonic and sinful natures, though that was probably just political slandering by the church, even if Inigo was the closest thing to an incubus Faula had even seen...

Inigo casually scratched his nose as he proceeded. "My home was originally in the tribal lands, as you people call them. I was taken away from my home when I was nine...maybe eight or ten actually; my tribe wasn't big on keeping track of years." Inigo paused for a short period, pondering before her continued. "Anyway, it was by another tribe, mostly canines they were. Raided one night when everyone was asleep, killed my father, captured me, my little sister and mother and then sold us to different buyers after keeping us in their camp for about three days. Haven't seen my family since," he stated with a casual shrug. The bat was strangely contained and unemotional considering the traumatic aspects of what he was describing. Faula certainly knew that if she had such a past, her voice would be bitter and spiteful as she told it.

Inigo looked at Faula, to see if she had anything to say, which her neutral expression indicated that she did not. The bat cleared his throat before continuing. "I was sold to a brothel here in Newport, the Bruised Clam if you happen to know which one that is, and I have been working to pay off my debt to the owner from 'saving me from my captors'," the bat continued, his final words gushing with sarcasm. "Worked there for seven years. Hated working there at first, but certain things grow on you after a while. I think it was once I was old enough to actually be able to get off that I started liking work." Faula cringed. Inigo didn't seem to notice. "And then about two months ago, Alarice comes in and buys some time with me. She became one of my favorite regulars, as you may know," he said with a disturbing lick of his lips. Faula felt herself shiver. The thought of a dignified and capable woman like Alarice sleeping with somebody like him, in a brothel of all places was just... unpleasant.

Faula glared at Inigo for his unsolicited emphasis on the sexual aspects, to which he just smiled brightly. "But I digress, during one of her visits, her seventh, I believe, she asked me if I wanted to work with her, and after some persuading, I said 'yes'. Then she paid the owner enough to convince him to let me go, and so here I am," the bat finished in a perky and upbeat tone, playfully smiling with closed eyes.

Faula felt like she was receiving the abridged version of 'The Grand Tale of Inigo's Life', but she was certainly fine with that. After all, she never realized just how... tragic his past was. Sure, her childhood wasn't exactly all roses and sunshine, but she always had some say in the way her life folded out. She almost felt sorry for the impudent little brat.

Almost.

But there was something strange about his story. Faula could just not see Alarice as the type of person to want to patron a common brothel like The Bruised Clam; she was just too classy for it. Not to mention the fact that she would ever decide to train and hire a completely untrained child seem incredibly off; she and Geoffrey were both incredibly capable in combat when they were hired after all. It was possible that Inigo was lying, but Faula failed to see any motivation for that; they were coworkers and she could easily verify any falsities with Alarice, who probably had all the information about the bat's past at her disposal. So, assuming that he was being truthful, either Alarice must be really attracted to Inigo, or saw some hidden potential in him...

Suddenly it clicked. Alarice must have seen not just the physical potential and talent of Inigo, but the potential of a young boy with nothing precious left in his life. If she became all he had, the only light in his life, the only driving force providing him a reason to go on, then he would give up anything, go through any ordeal to protect and serve her. He'd practically be her willing slave...

Inigo reopened his green eyes which sparkled with curiosity as he met his gaze with Faula's. "What about you though, Faula? I'm afraid I'm quite unfamiliar with your past as well. Why don't you help me out with that?"

Faula gave a contemplative huff. "Well there's not much to say..." she said as she looked up disinterestedly at the ceiling. "I was an only child; my mom died after she had me. My dad was a mercenary and he trained me to be one since I was little. A lot of people say that women make poor fighters, but my father didn't care about anything like that at all; we would train relentlessly, for hours each day until my body was too sore to move." She looked at Inigo spitefully. "You think the shit I'm putting you through is hard? You should have been taught by my father. You wouldn't just be sore, you'd be bruised and bloody, and not training with rubber weapons..." Inigo seemed impressed rather than intimidated, which didn't surprise Faula in the slightest. "Anyway, I got my first job offer as a body guard when I was sixteen and been doing it ever since," the wolf said, dry and unenthusiastic.

Inigo nodded his head a few times. "Okay, okay. And how did you find Alarice, then? Did she hire you at sixteen?" Inigo gasped happily. "That's about my age right now!"

Faula shrugged. "No, first of all I didn't find her; she found me. And it was about two years ago, when I was twenty and in search of work. She just showed up at my doorstep one day, said she was impressed with the history of success with my previous hirings and offered me a long-term position as one of her bodyguards. It's usually just escorting her to meetings with any time where I need to actually fight being far and few between, but since the pay's good, I've just been doing that ever since."

Inigo hummed in an intrigued manner. "But how do you feel about her? I'm quite _fond_of her, as you can probably guess."

"Yeah, I can tell..." Faula stated disgustedly. Faula took in a long, drawn out breath through her nose. "I think she's incredible. She's a genius at business and an excellent combatant as well, but what I respect about her more than anything is that she's a woman of the present."

Inigo seemed intrigued by the notion. "Oh? Do explain."

Faula looked at her feet as she spoke, her usual rough, aggressive voice now mellow. "She never looks back, never regrets her actions, and doesn't care who you once were as long as you prove yourself to her. In fact, she doesn't even talk about her childhood. You probably already know, but 'Alarice' isn't her real name... and I'm starting to doubt that she even remembers her old one..." Faula explained pensively.

She checked the kettle; the water was not quite to a boil. "Alarice really is an amazing woman... I have to say that being able to work for her was probably the best thing to happen to me," she said, exhaling wistfully.

Inigo raised a brow as his eyes lit up. "Mmm, sounds to me like you've fallen for our elegant, furless employer. Not that I can't blame you; she is quite the beauty. You and her in bed...now that would be a sight to see!" with that obnoxiously overconfident smile of his.

Faula didn't know why, but Inigo's quip really got to her. "If you don't shut your damned trap I'll beat the shit out of you, you miserable winged rodent!" The female wolf snarled. Sure, she had a deep reverence for Alarice, but that certainly didn't mean she had feelings for her. ...Right? Actually, now that she thought about it, Faula wasn't certain just how she felt for her employer. She was the only person Faula actually liked, the only person Faula wanted to be praised from. Now that she thought about it, was there even much difference between deep admiration and love? Faula wasn't sure.

"You know, I love a woman who can kick my ass..." Inigo purred in response, gazing deeply at the wolf, desire evident in his eyes.

"Goddammit Inigo... You're impossible!" Faula snarled, seething with frustration.

Inigo just smirked. "On the contrary my good Faula, I've quite often been told how _easy_I am."

Faula brought her paw to her forehead.

Even if Faula couldn't stand Inigo's sex jokes, she had to at least acknowledge that he at least pulled that one off fairly well. She was about to open her muzzle to tell Inigo to shut up again when the kettle started whistling loudly. Faula stifled whatever she was about to say, got up, headed over to the stove and began preparing the tea. Undoubtedly the bat had an overconfident smile etched on his muzzle, but Faula certainly didn't care to see it.

Faula turned around and sat on top of the counter, next to the tea mugs. She slumped forward, with one paw propping up her as she stared at the tea. She was in a foul mood and didn't feel like waiting, but she knew she had to if she wanted to be satisfied with the flavor. As she waited, there was an awkward silence persisting in the room as the tea brewed, but Inigo soon broke it. "Hey Faula, I have a question for you. That is of course, if you don't mind," he asked in a relatively simple tone.

Faula sighed and directed her gaze to the bat. "Is it about sex?" What was she asking? Of course it was going to be about sex. It always was!

"Not in the slightest," he chirped unconvincingly. Faula turned around and shot Inigo a doubtful look. He chuckled. "I'm serious, it really isn't!" The wolf was still unconvinced. "I know, I'm surprised too!"

Faula rolled her eyes and then grumbled under her breath. "Fine... what is it?" she asked reluctantly.

Inigo smiled. "I was wondering... Alarice and Geoffrey always call me 'Inny', Alarice's 'nickname' for me, as people call it. I think it's a really cute name, so I like it when they call me that. But then I noticed you always call me by my real name. Why is that I wonder?" he asked peculiarly as he flicked one of his ears sideways. "It's not that I mind or anything, we just didn't use nicknames back home, so I'm just curious to know is all."

Faula was well aware of the reason she refused to call Inigo by his nickname, and it wasn't that she never used nicknames with people. It was a bit idiosyncratic and Inigo probably wasn't going to like it, but she had to put up with so much of his shit that she didn't care anymore. "Simple enough. It's because I don't like you," she said flatly with a shrug. Inigo cocked his head at her; he must not have completely grasped that nicknames were terms of endearment. "Most people in mainland Lehsunia don't use nicknames with people unless they're close and familiar with them," she further explained.

Inigo seemed surprised to hear it. "Oh..." He paused and started tapping his fingers against the floor, seemingly unsure of what to say next. "Well, why don't you like me then?" he finally asked in a neutral tone. Inigo was masking it, but Faula could see the hurt in his eyes. Somehow that just made her angrier. She grabbed onto the counter and began squeezing tightly, gritting her teeth.

Faula locked eyes with Inigo. "Alright, I'll tell you. So listen up good, runt," she said coldly, staring at the bat with a deep, stirring animosity in her eyes. "I don't really know why Alarice likes you so fucking much, but she does and I've accepted that. It's a shame, because I really want to bash that skull of yours in every time you let your goddamn muzzle run. Let me tell you that the insipid shit that spews out of your mouth makes me angrier than possibly anything else."

Inigo continued staring at her blankly, but she knew he was afraid; she could smell it. Faula wanted him to stay that way. "So count your blessings kid, while they fucking last..." she said as she hopped off the counter and took the tea bags out of their mugs.

"Tea's done."