If You Wish to be a Proper Soldier [Finished]

[Yuiven]

Bright yellow sunbeams poked through the barrier of thick clouds in different directions, slowly dispersing and thinning out to reveal the lukewarm midmorning sun. It shone like a beacon down on Capital City. Back on Earth, as the sun rose higher, the main district bustled with a resurgence of new life. Cards of all ages, gender, and regions from every rank came out of hibernation in droves- including Beowulf. Today was his day off. Although he enjoyed the challenge of his infantry training, sometimes he just wanted to get away and mingle with civilians. Just for a little while.

Beowulf meandered through the crowd, forging his own path with no real destination in mind. Glancing left and right, he noted all of the Cards moving around him, while he surveyed the ever-changing scene.

Some gathered together to exchange news and spread rumours with one another...shoppers milled about carrying goods and items...a few roadside performers practised their acts, gaining the attention and coin as payment from several passers-by with their prowess...and children laughed as they chased each other.

Beowulf stopped walking. Standing idly by, he gazed out at the street, watching as the traffic passed; this idyllic scene was reminiscent of a time some eight months past. The corners of his beak turned upwards in a small nostalgic smile, but vanished as quickly as it came.

There's a fine line between tranquility and chaos, and the Josiggy Marsh crow knew better than anyone how unexpectedly- and how painfully easy -that line could be crossed. It was all too easy for Beowulf to overlay the peaceful view before him with memories of his hometown's worst disaster. The young man stiffened as, despite himself, he was drawn back to that hellish day.

The sky had bled crimson through the smoke that hung heavily in a hazy fog. Perfect buildings were reduced to smoking ruin; some of the wooden things inside catching fire and adding to the smoke. Claws marks etched into some of the stones among the rubble...burnt vegetation...screams from citizens dying or fleeing for their lives filtered the air. Like distant thunder, a deafening roar could be heard over everything.

Suddenly, reminisces of the past were jolted back to the present as something knocked into him. "Oof!" Beowulf staggered. He grimaced a bit as he regained his balance. Blinking a few times to re-orient himself to his surroundings, it took several seconds before he even registered the interloper's presence. When he finally did, he stared blankly down at...

A Morganberry raccoon. Female, he realized, probably ten years old, and a four of Spades. The little girl looked contrite. "Sorry Mister. I didn't see you there," she apologized, front paws clasped sweetly and innocently together while scuffing a foot against the cobblestones. "It's...alright," Beowulf replied, trying to regain his composure. Then he cocked his head, and gave her a friendly and disarming smile. "No harm done. Just remember to watch where you're going." The Morganberry raccoon shyly returned the smile. "Yeah, I'll have to keep that in mind. Thanks Mister." She then turned to leave and scampered away.

"BEOWULF!!"

Startled, Beowulf whipped his head in the direction of a familiar voice in time to see Wiglaf manifest beside him. He had a panicked look on his face and was running silver fingertips over and over the longest section of his mane. Little sounds of worry bubbled at the back of his throat.

These were obvious signs that something was wrong.

Looking around him to make sure no one was paying attention, Beowulf whispered, "What's the matter, Wiglaf?" Wiglaf glanced sideways at his best friend with one rolling brown eye, and pointed a trembling finger. "That kid who just bumped into you stole my stone!" he screeched by way of explanation. "You have to get it back!" Beowulf gasped, following Wiglaf's gaze to the retreating tail of the Morganberry raccoon child. His azure eyes widened in shock and realization as he reached for the small pouch which stored the precious stone, only to find it empty. That brat had robbed him using the old 'bump-and-run' method! Worse, he fell for her little charade, hook, line and sinker!

The crow cawed in outrage. With little regard for public decency, Beowulf shifted swiftly into his Animal form and lifted his wings. He leapt into the air, flapping as he did so. Once airborne, Beowulf straightened out before he took off in hot pursuit.

"Stop thief!"

[Kitty]

The chipmunk was in the city again today, a bag slung over his back and a thoughtful expression on his face. He'd been sent out of the marsh on a few errands today by his darling mother thankfully, he rather disliked going as an order from one of three lazy older siblings. Being the youngest, and the most favored by his parents, it only meant one thing for him, he was their 'gopher' when they needed something they couldn't collect in the marsh. It wasn't that he truly minded, he enjoyed his time in the city, but the last time he'd come here he'd miss out on an intruder and hadn't been the slightest bit happy. He wished to finally be able to prove his improvements and get himself out from under his father's protective blanket. He was young, yes, but he could certainly take care of himself.

His notched ear twitched forward as the word 'thief' carried over the crowd. Well, he certainly couldn't allow such a card to escape, now could he? His other ear joined the first and he scanned the area only to realize that the pair, thief and victim, were heading for him, perfect. But... the thief was a child? Eh, all the better to halt then.

He waited for them to move closer before stepping directly into the young raccoons path and bracing himself for an impact. That was one good thing about being low to the ground and having a larger, wider build then most other vermin, you could be an effective road block.

[Yuiven]

Beowulf let out a short sigh of annoyance, rolling his eyes toward the heavens. 'Why do they never stop when you tell them to? It would go easier on her.' As the crow flew high above the crowd the carefully controlled strokes of an advanced flier took hold of his muscled limbs, restraining the natural impulse, while at the same time ignoring Wiglaf's spurring, to go faster so he could move more efficiently. He scanned the area until his eyes locked onto the young Morganberry raccoon. So focused on his quarry that everything else in his viewpoint dissolved into haziness, but she remained crystal clear.

Meanwhile small, rounded ears rose and swivelled backwards when the masked bandit heard the telltale cry of a gullible victim who just realized he'd been robbed. A sly, victorious grin spread across her face. 'Sucker!' she cackled inwardly. Quick as a flash, the raccoon activated her basic ability and ran full tilt. She expertly navigated through the throngs of law-abiding citizens with only experience, skill, and finely honed reflexes (plus a lot of luck) keeping her from skidding wildly out of control and crashing.

Why did that juvenile delinquent have to be a Spade of all Suits?

Unfortunately for her, the rush for freedom would be short lived. If she had chosen to exercise the smallest bit of caution, she might've had the chance to avoid her painful and embarrassing end. As it was, her intention to get away scot-free was abruptly halted by a large olive green form blocking her escape route. The Morganberry raccoon didn't even have time to register that obstruction before she collided with it. After the impact, she staggered a bit before falling to the ground with a thud. "Ow..." she groaned softly. Her face was contorted in pain as she lay sprawled on her back, looking a bit worse for wear. Shaken, but not seriously hurt, the child could only stare dazedly as she levered herself up on her elbows to see an olive green blob who was built like a wall standing in front of her.

Out of the haziness, from the top of Beowulf's hawk-vision, emerged another crystal-clear figure who stepped directly into the path of the thief to block her. As he got closer, he identified the Good Samaritan to be a chipmunk, and a native Josiggy Marshlander, much like himself. Beowulf breathed a sigh of relief. The chipmunk had created a golden opportunity to intercept her. With no hesitation Beowulf transformed back into his Bipedal form in mid-air and fell out of the sky, arms and wings over his head.

"LOOK OUT BELOW!"

That was the only warning. There were shouts of alarm as Cards on the ground scrambled to get out of his way, making a small clearing for him smack bang in the middle of the street. Bracing for impact against the cold, hard cobblestones, he landed in a crouch. The impact was hard, but stung only lightly. A few hairline cracks appeared, spreading out from underneath his feet.

[Kitty]

He watched as the girl seemed to focus on just about everywhere except straight ahead, which probably would have done her a world of good... but it helped him out in the end. In anticipation of the impact he braced himself a bit more and claws made the feeble attempt to hold him in place but the impact was a bit jarring none the less. After the smaller form ran into him he took a few steps to the side to fully regain his balance, he'd probably be a little sore later as well.

He moved over to the fallen child and made a move to grab hold of her tail to ensure she wouldn't escape until her pursuer showed up and he could better gage the situation. There was, after all, the chance that the avian was lying and just attempting to get the girl in trouble.... which wouldn't do at all. Eyes, the same olive as his coat, swept over the morganberry briefly, making sure she was alright, before his gave drifted to the bipedal avian of his own realm and cast the man the type of smile that was genuine, but lacked any teeth. Most didn't appreciate his elongated fangs, after all.

I believe you were after this? Might I ask why?

His brown and goldenrod tail arched into a slight curve of interest behind him as he peered at the biped.... oh how he wished he had that form! Spears just... didn't go well with animal forms.

[Yuiven]

Still in a daze, the young Morganberry raccoon wasn't wholly aware that the olive green blob had seized her bushy tail. She shook her head vigorously, and blinked rapidly, focusing on said blob as it slowly formed, with startling clarity, into a chipmunk. "Hmmm?" She sat upright, staring at him with undisguised confusion. Something was a little off and as her gaze travelled down his brown-and-yellow forelegs she saw it. Round eyes wide, the kit gasped sharply, then glared up at him. "HEY! Let go of me!" she cried indignantly, scrabbling at his much bigger paws to try to free herself from her captor's grasp.

Beowulf didn't notice the half dozen or so onlookers that had gathered around to watch as the bipedal crow straightened from his crouch. Barely able to keep a lid on his anger, he wordlessly advanced towards the fallen child and the other man, his feet striking loud thuds against the cobblestones. Coming to a halt just inches away from the pair, he stood with fists clenched at his sides. He could only frown in return at his fellow Josiggy Marshlander. It was hardly the kudos this Good Samaritan deserved, but Beowulf was furious with both the thief and himself for giving her the opportunity to rob him. He squatted next to the Morganberry, staring intently at the back of her head.

As the raccoon continued to struggle in the vice-like grip a large shadow suddenly fell over her. She froze. There was someone else behind her, and whoever it was, wasn't pleased either. Like the child with her hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar, she slowly turned to find a horrifyingly familiar crow looming over her. The kit nearly jumped out of her fur, squeaking in utter terror. "Eep!" At that moment she came to the sudden realization: she'd picked the wrong mark.

It seemed everything had come to a standstill as thief and victim squared off.

Sucking his breath in through his nose and out through his mouth, Beowulf now felt calm enough to explain the situation. "This...young lady...stole something precious from me- a stone from Sorgaire Range," he told the chipmunk, although he didn't outwardly shift his attention from the young Morganberry raccoon. He leaned forward menacingly, looking at her right in the eye. "I want it back, and I want it back now!" She paled. Cowering, she opened her mouth to protest her innocence, but thought better of it and snapped it shut. It was pointless; she'd been caught red-handed. The little girl humphed in defeat and crossed her arms. "Why do you want that dumb stone anyway? You aren't from Sorgaire Range," she demanded, but eyed the older man anxiously. Beowulf's glare took on a tinge of sadness. "My best friend was..."

Slowly it dawned on her. He had let the statement hang, but the implication was as obvious as a headstone in a graveyard. "Oh...I-I didn't know." Hesitating for only a moment, she offered the Sorgaire Range stone back with a trace of longing, like it was a valuable sapphire. "Here you are, sir. I'm sorry that I took it."

[Kitty]

At her request to be let go he simply shook his head and rocked back onto his haunches to show her just how serious he was about not going anywhere. His short little tail was arched behind him and his ears perked fully forward when the heavy steps of the agitated man drifted to them. He wasn't put of at all by the avian's almost brush off type actions and simply offered him another of those not toothy at all smiles. It was exceptionally hard for anyone to rain on his parade.

He watched, listening all the while and also trying not to chuckle... this all seemed so very much like when his older siblings used to bicker back and forth.... usually because his sister has stolen something rather 'precious' from one of his brothers. But in all reality this was no laughing matter... and sentimental value was certainly greater then any monetary value... but still... civility surely could still be attained somehow.

Now now, both of you stop and take a deep breath.... cool heads certainly achieve more then hot ones.

He tugged lightly at the young raccoons tail to get her attention, his expression becoming rather stern, he was presently mimicking his father.

I won't need to involve your parents in this matter, will I?

[Yuiven]

The blue stone rested innocuously in the palm of raccoon's small outstretched paw. No sooner did Beowulf thrust out an arm to reclaim it, when, at the last moment, the voice of the Good Samaritan, whose concern was honed to a fine edge, cut through his rage like a knife, stopping his fingers just inches away. He sat bolt upright. He then leaned to peer over the Morganberry's shoulder, staring at the other Josiggy Marshlander in bewilderment. Before Beowulf had a chance to reply and set him straight, the chipmunk spoke again, directly to the kit this time.

Every muscle in her body tensed when he inquired about her parents, although she still held out her paw and kept her gaze fixed apprehensively on the crow. With her ears drooping, she partially turned her head towards the interfering rodent who'd cut off her getaway. Sorrow was evident in her demeanour. The young raccoon's voice was so quiet as she spoke that Beowulf had to strain to hear her. "I don't have parents."

'Aw, crap!' Beowulf rocked back on his heels as though he'd been struck by a blow instead of words. A look of shame crossed his face. Resting his chin in his hand with an elbow propped up on his knee, he gave the orphan a closer look. Splotches of dirt were smeared throughout her scruffy fur, which coated a body that was just skin and bones. Well, that explained a lot. She had stolen the stone to sell in order to buy food. Compassion welled in him for the poor girl. Obviously she hadn't had an easy life.

The kit, sensing his attention upon her, turned back to face him. She could feel the older man's interrogative gaze zoning in on her, as if he was waiting for her to be quiet so he could chew her out again. But, rather than scolding the child, he sighed in resignation and plucked the stone from her paw with considerably less force than his first attempt.

Taking the stone in hand, Beowulf held it up at eye level, turning it over as he inspected it for any chips or scratches; catching only fleeting glimpses of its tints and shades. Fortunately, the stone was still intact despite rough handling. It was as bright and gleaming as the day it was carved out of the rock from Sorgaire Range. Good...Wiglaf would've never let him hear the end of it if his prized possession had been damaged in any way, shape or form. Giving a satisfied nod, he pocketed it. "Thanks."

[Kitty]

She didn't have parents? Well, that certainly wasn't expected but .... he had an answer for that as well. He gave the little girl a smile, his long jowls covering his fangs still, and slowly released her tail.

A couple blocks down there's an Inn my family is a regular at, tell them Jarvis sent you and they'll take care of you if you promise me you won't be stealing anymore, alright?

The owner of the inn was a nice old lady who'd lost her mate a few years back and still treated him and his siblings like children ... so he was quite certain she wouldn't mind taking in the little raccoon, it'd be a win win situation if the girl could, eventually, be trusted. He'd warn the woman, of course, but he was hoping this would work the way he hoped. Call him old fashioned but he did so love a happy ending.

[Yuiven]

Looking back at the crow, then quickly returning her attention to the chipmunk, the kit's eyes widened with her mouth partly open in shock, at a loss for what to say. She honestly hadn't been expecting that at all. What he was thinking?! As much as she would have protested, the girl knew that she was guilty, and that there was no reason that anyone should give her anything but the worst kind of punishment for what she had done. She was a thief, a pickpocket to be precise, and by all rights this man should turn her in to the police...but wasn't going to.

Tears welled up in her eyes. For a good long minute, the orphan worked her mouth soundlessly as she struggled to find the words. When she finally spoke up she said the first thing that came to mind. "Why?"

"Because the truth has set you free."

Instantly she whipped her head around to face her former victim with a quizzical, yet guarded look. A knowing smile curled around Beowulf's beak as he came to the realization that the crafty, cocky pickpocket was about to go down in flames, and it wasn't because of any punishment or chastising or guilt trip. It was because this Good Samaritan had shown her compassion. Beowulf crouched down so he was face-to-face with the raccoon. "You could've denied that you had stolen my stone when I accused you, but you didn't," he replied in a more kindly tone, to answer the question she hadn't voiced; What are you talking about? "You admitted your guilt, even though it was probably the hardest thing in the world to do. That's why we're letting you go."

Leaning slightly to one side, he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, eyes averted from the child's skeptical gaze. "I also owe you an apology. My behaviour was...misguided, but it was provoked by your actions."

The kit was undone. Realizing that she wasn't going to be punished, she stared at the biped crow, dumbstruck. He, the one whom she had truly wronged, should have been the first to bring the full force of the law down on her head like a guillotine, did what she least expected.

...The truth had set her free.

Pricked by his words, she bowed her head as the tears trickled down her face. "Oh, don't cry." Beowulf reached up and tenderly wiped away each one with his thumb. "Just promise us that you won't steal anymore, and all will be forgiven."

A moment of drawn-out silence passed before the kit looked up, and when she did genuine gratitude was lighting her face. Beowulf quirked a lop-sided smile, and for the first time, they looked at each other in peaceful accord. Then the little girl took a deep breath and let it out. "I promise I'll never steal ever again," she vowed, tracing an X over her chest, "Cross my heart and hope to die." Beowulf nodded in approval, convinced of her sincerity. "Good. Now be on your way."

The young Morganberry raccoon stood and turned to the chipmunk. After getting the directions to the Inn, she backed away slowly before hurrying off with a spring in her step that hadn't been there before. "Good-bye and thank you!" she called over her shoulder, waving.

[Kitty]

The chipmunk simply sat back and watched, letting the crow take over from here. After all he hadn't been wronged and in the end it was all up to the other Jossigy as to what would really happen to the little raccoon. He couldn't help but be curious though and kept his ears perked forward and his eyes on the pair. It seemed things were going rather well and that all tempers had been smoothed over rather nicely, so a little grin rested on his muzzle.

Fair well! I'll be checking in on you in a few days ... so mind your manners!

His little tail wiggled a bit behind him as he watched the girl go, such a nice outcome! He knew the old women would love to have a nice set of young paws around the Inn and, well... the girl would be happy, he knew it. He turned his head back over to the crow and his grin broadened a bit ... the other man wasn't so bad after all.

That was awfully nice of you... er .... well, it seems I don't know your name!

He chuckled lightly, a little embarrassed that, even though they had been distracted, he'd forgotten his manners somewhere along the way. He also lifted up one of his paws and extended it to the marsh lander.

The name's Jarvis.