Citizen 1132 Chianti

A golden ray shoots over the crisp morning air of the day's horizon, landing on a dirty looking red hide, it shakes and starts to unfurl as a young Rexal's startling blue eyes and mischievous smirk that made no effort to hide his devious intentions reveal themselves. Chianti now quickly shaking himself off now stood on all fours, letting out a near silent yawn that hinted that he wasn't usually up so early. And yet the smirk was now a smile, he had plotted for such a morning; the morning of the day that he'd sail across the seas. 

To buy a ticket for travel aboard such a ship you'd have to give two weeks worth of wages and be at least 15 years to travel alone, but to ship an item it would only be a few dracm. And he had gathered just enough to ship a hefty wooly deerskin rug to an island 2 stops over; where rumors of a pirates hideout had been gaining traction. Now he looked like a reddish brown pelt: matted and pretty dirty but a pelt none the less, the extra brown stain he had gathered from the leather maker he ran errands successfully making his usually eye-catching deep red fur a mottle of dull and uninteresting browns. 

He sneaks over to the usual boarding spot and using some tree sap from a piece of wrapped fabric previously secured to his neck with a lock of worn rope, he sticks a stamped note that states that his delivery had been paid for unto his back. Then he finds an empty crate, moving it to where the pre-filled crates were and positions himself within it; head down, limbs tucked and his utmost focus to conceal his magic aura, a skill he had learned and was pretty accomplished in for a 10 year old and waited. Sure enough it works, the deckhands groggy from a prior night of celebration had only looked at the notice before loading the open top crate which was stamped and marked as paid into the hold of the large ship. Now abroad he smirks proud of his success after outsmarting the sharp eyes Bosun that seemed trench-bent on keeping so called riff-raff like him off of the ship before, yet still he doesn't remove himself from the small uncomfortable crate or his packed position. 

Dubious ‘Cargo’ ships–the closest he could get to pirates; like the one he was on had cargo inspections by designated crew members: an older rex who had sea-fared for longer than he knew had told him so. Chianti would leave and search for something amongst the other cargo to eat after such a person came, he was more than capable of outwaiting someone he had outsmarted. A Rexal does come eventually, around what feels like noon; the dull thud of their legs one of which seemed to have a limp causing Chianti's small heart to quicken in fear until they walk right by or rather a good distance away from his crate of shabby 'goods' . Curious, he caught himself taking a peek at the older and stocky rex from a distance. 

They only seemed to have went around looking for damages or poorly hidden smuggled goods, their eyes had passed right over the unsuspecting low quality pelt that Chianti was pretending to be and quite a bit of other low quality or inexpensive goods in the dim light available within the ship's expanse of a belly. And shortly after the dull thumping and limp left the harsh clacking of the old sliding hatch against itself causing Chianti to release a sigh. Now he rapidly unfurls from his position, a gleeful expression on his person: he had outsmarted the somewhat pirate captain and his crew and he would arrive safely ‘It was no big deal.’, he thought.

 Now optimistic, he started to openly explore the space using the excuse of looking for goods that he could eat, he ignored the varieties of pickles and jams; jarred things neatly stacked upon each other that would easily show if one item was missing or misplaced. Finally coming across a barrel of sun dried plums and the end of his search, seeing the lid was not secure he easily pried it off before stuffing his grubby paws and then face completely with the sweet and hard to come by treat. He had even cackled somewhat, what was such a good thing even doing out an unsecure like that, didn’t the captain worry about stowaways? Or has there not been any as good as him?

Just as he was sure he was taking his last handful he hears a long sigh, from what could only be rather large lungs, he nearly loses his whits. Now almost scared senseless he was stuck in place and has no choice but to stand still: hand halfway down the barrel he had greedily ate from prior, mouth still mid chew, even the right side of his face filled with pits that weren't removed from some of the plums he had was stiff. He had wanted to think that it was just the sway of the ocean causing boards of the less than new ship to creak and almost started to believe it before another deep breath is released and the cracking and popping of joints follows, before something- no someone stands. 

Now he couldn’t hear the boards of the ship or the sliding of the looser cargo as it rocked if he wanted to, no now the heavy breath from before managed to cast a shadow even in the dark hull as they loomed over the young Chianti. At this point his eyes had been the only thing to have moved, tightly shut as he was praying silently to the sea, the stars– anything at that point really that he wouldn't be in whom ever's line of sight. 

However as if they had known of his attempts to hide, he hears the Rexal chuckle somewhat and say "Are they delicious? –My daughter made them.” A heavy hand now upon his shoulder as the voice continues “...they were her first batch fit for sale…" Chianti felt sick, and confused– he was sure just before there was no one else there with him and and yet now his rigid body and churning stomach as well as the voice told him otherwise. His shock however didn’t stop the older rex from lowering his head, the chill of his next words directly relayed to Chianti's ear as he says "...She asked me to tell her how they sold" Chianti turning could now see the eyes of the owner of said voice and became so frightened that the younger rex fainted.

He wakes up face towards the open sea, not bright and shining like it had been earlier, but oddly dark as the same sunlight that had greeted him that morning started to retreat beyond the horizon as if bidding him farewell. He starts to struggle; tears burning his eyes with the sudden though that he was bound up and going to be thrown over deck like disloyal crew members and thieves were in all of the tales he had eaves dropped on. He tries to take deep breaths so that he’d be able to put up a decent fight against his restraints when in the water– only to realize that what suspended him was neither rope or chain but a single hand with a rather impressive grip. 

He slowly turns to the chuckling he had been unable to hear prior in his state of panic and meets the same eyes of the frightening Rexal who had discovered. The rex who briefly looks at him says "The kid finally stopped throwing up!" he was then promptly put down, not daring to look to the Rexal who even laughing seemed scary. Shock from his near death experience still rattling through him who used all of his might to grip into the floorboards of the deck he was released unto. The Rexal as if entertained continues to laugh as the same thumping limp he had heard below the deck gradually approached him. And finally the laughing Rexal settles as he says "This is an awful big rat cap'n." the older rex then huffs somewhat before saying "Too large to stow away for free." and Chianti soon finds a mop and bucket of water pushed towards the tip of his nose. Looking up he sees the now bright eyes of the older rex who says "It's the mop or the sea boy."

Author: Moon-Custard