Little Mister Tough-Imp
I Only Bite Trees
The imp had been guided to the Headmaster's office but it seemed said Headmaster wasn't in today. Not badly discouraged, the blue-skinned critter had scrawled a brief note and slid it under the door.
Faith, Imp. Faith.
He'd dropped in to the Red Dragon for a bit but now, after some hours of Longshoring, the imp finds himself wandering the docks listening to other Longshoremen and even the sailor-types. One in particular has him curious, so the imp's five-inch ears go on up.
"Aw, ain' it a shame? Me fav'rite jecket don' fit annehmore. I cain' wear it now."
"Don't fret, Jebs. See, I got yeh a better'un. It'll go 'round yer new belly!"
Laughter. Then the sound of a pat on someone's back. Curiosity getting the better of him, Renne edges closer -- be it for better or worse, out from behind an unloaded crate and into a spot of moonlight.
It takes a second for the good-natured laughing and jibing to cut short into silence. The cat doesn't permanently run off with these gents' tongues at least.
"Wot th' bloody 'ell is that?"
"Dunno. Weird if'n yeh ask me."
Weird. That word again.
Don't lose your spine, Imp.
"Weee-rrrrd?"
"Demmed crikey! It talks!"
Tough enough to not pass out or some other such thing, the first 'shoreman edges up to the blue creature and extends a work-roughened, if a little shaky hand.
"Uh...Don' bite now, eh?"
All the chap gets is a sniff, then a hesitant nudge. Then, a minute later, a friendly lick.
"Pss! Watch it Matty, 's a snake!"
"No it ain', Jebediah. Grow some n' 'ave a look-see. Kinda cute..once y'gets used t'it."
It takes that and half-a-grumble to get the second 'shoreman to approach. He may not extend his hand, but he eventually agrees with his companion. Sort of.
"Eh...ugly li'l thing. But...well, it don' seem ta bite. -- 'Ey!"
Jebediah's almost-yelp is enough to give the first man pause and turn. The imp had gone from sniffing his hand to sniffing at his worn-out peacoat tucked under his other arm.
"Yah know, Jebs, I thinks me ol' coat migh' look cute on our uh..."
"Eeh! Ihm-p!"
"Right. Imp. 'Ere y'go."
Through bright blue blushing, chirps and low-voiced laughter, Jebediah and his partner take some time to play a gentle game of tag. They were the hardened, salt-cured type with rare to no times of goofing off or passing along bits of knowledge to someone else.
Eventually though, it had to end. The two had had to finish up a last few hours of 'shoring in their shift so they sent the imp off with a gentle nudge, Jebediah's worn old coat and one of Matty's old hats.
For laughs, they'd taught the imp how to "walk like a sailor", or in his case crawl, and a few new -- clean! -- words to his vocabulary.
And on his way back home to the Maritime for the night, the imp left those two a final line and a few coins. Fair exchange of coin and laughter for what they'd imparted to him.
"Rrr-enne ohn-lee bi-te trrrrree!"
I Only Bite Trees
The imp had been guided to the Headmaster's office but it seemed said Headmaster wasn't in today. Not badly discouraged, the blue-skinned critter had scrawled a brief note and slid it under the door.
Faith, Imp. Faith.
He'd dropped in to the Red Dragon for a bit but now, after some hours of Longshoring, the imp finds himself wandering the docks listening to other Longshoremen and even the sailor-types. One in particular has him curious, so the imp's five-inch ears go on up.
"Aw, ain' it a shame? Me fav'rite jecket don' fit annehmore. I cain' wear it now."
"Don't fret, Jebs. See, I got yeh a better'un. It'll go 'round yer new belly!"
Laughter. Then the sound of a pat on someone's back. Curiosity getting the better of him, Renne edges closer -- be it for better or worse, out from behind an unloaded crate and into a spot of moonlight.
It takes a second for the good-natured laughing and jibing to cut short into silence. The cat doesn't permanently run off with these gents' tongues at least.
"Wot th' bloody 'ell is that?"
"Dunno. Weird if'n yeh ask me."
Weird. That word again.
Don't lose your spine, Imp.
"Weee-rrrrd?"
"Demmed crikey! It talks!"
Tough enough to not pass out or some other such thing, the first 'shoreman edges up to the blue creature and extends a work-roughened, if a little shaky hand.
"Uh...Don' bite now, eh?"
All the chap gets is a sniff, then a hesitant nudge. Then, a minute later, a friendly lick.
"Pss! Watch it Matty, 's a snake!"
"No it ain', Jebediah. Grow some n' 'ave a look-see. Kinda cute..once y'gets used t'it."
It takes that and half-a-grumble to get the second 'shoreman to approach. He may not extend his hand, but he eventually agrees with his companion. Sort of.
"Eh...ugly li'l thing. But...well, it don' seem ta bite. -- 'Ey!"
Jebediah's almost-yelp is enough to give the first man pause and turn. The imp had gone from sniffing his hand to sniffing at his worn-out peacoat tucked under his other arm.
"Yah know, Jebs, I thinks me ol' coat migh' look cute on our uh..."
"Eeh! Ihm-p!"
"Right. Imp. 'Ere y'go."
Through bright blue blushing, chirps and low-voiced laughter, Jebediah and his partner take some time to play a gentle game of tag. They were the hardened, salt-cured type with rare to no times of goofing off or passing along bits of knowledge to someone else.
Eventually though, it had to end. The two had had to finish up a last few hours of 'shoring in their shift so they sent the imp off with a gentle nudge, Jebediah's worn old coat and one of Matty's old hats.
For laughs, they'd taught the imp how to "walk like a sailor", or in his case crawl, and a few new -- clean! -- words to his vocabulary.
And on his way back home to the Maritime for the night, the imp left those two a final line and a few coins. Fair exchange of coin and laughter for what they'd imparted to him.
"Rrr-enne ohn-lee bi-te trrrrree!"