purry

Ahh, the wonders of a small town on a Sunday morning! There was the cries of merchants haggling their goods and fighting between themselves for the best spots, the clopping sound of hooves from lazy donkeys pulling the carts that brought into town a myriad of both tasty, odd, smelling or even delightful items; the foreigners that watched everything and talked little, the locals hollering for their next bargain, the little rascals plotting over to snag another piece of fruit from a distracted vendor - it was market day, and what a thrill to watch this was. Purry loved the Sundays, even if that meant she would be 'serving' more than one costumer that night; Sunday mornings tasted like fun, for they meant she would be free to roam the town and its' whereabouts, provided she was back in time to prepare lunch.

(contd.)

November 16, 1154

A ray of light and the matron's loud voice greeted Purry into the dawn of a new day. At first she grumbled, opening one eye and rolling over herself in bed. But as the matron's hollering became more audible and the calling of her name was quite percievable, both eyes gave in to the inevitable truth and opened, blinking at the clear light that invaded the room. The lynx sat upon the straw matress, stretching her arms up and yawning widely, her pearly white fangs glistening at the morning sun. As she brushed her knuckles over her blurry sight, a sudden thought came to mind; had it been a dream?

Hell no! Purry felt the rough cover as soon as she fitted her slim paw under the bed; there it was, the odd book she had found the previous night!
"Purry Lust, come down, immediatly!" The matron's voice was prompt to anger and left no room for discussion.
"Coming, coming!" Purry babbled, in a strong accent, one of the first words she had learned in common, while she rushed for her ordinary, everyday clothes - she wasn't required to dress properly unless she was 'serving'. Serving was another quick word to learn in common, for her; its' meaning would fastly get imprinted in her mind. She quickly got dressed and galloped down the few stairs that separated the rooms from the rest of the establishment.
"By the Primes child, what took you so long?!", the matron yelled, while Purry gazed at her, "I need you to go to town for me, pick up some things I need." Her tone of voice soothed and became more maternal. "And look at your hair, all messed up. Where's the brush I gave you? Go on, go fix that hair and rush back."
It was just the excuse the lynx needed. She raced up the stairs and quickly groomed her beautifully curled fair hair. Picking up the mysterious book, she looked around with shifty eyes knowing she had to find a way to get it past the matron, without raising suspicions. The window!  Purry peered down from the wooden frame and discovered a conveniently situated bush leaning against the wall. Without thinking twice, she tossed the book at the green foliage, hoping it would stay concealed as she ran to meet the matron again.
The matron handled her a small pouch with coins and told her what to purchase; and so it was with a smirk that Purry walked out of the house. As soon as she felt nobody was watching her, she sneaked towards the bush and pulled out her precious finding; she then sped her pace to town, happy to have some time for herself.

The path to the village wasn't long nor steep, and so the lynx happily trotted along the road under the nice 'n' warm November sun. As she did so she thought about what she could do with a blank book; there wasn't many people in Kasuria who could read or write, but she had learnt from Drakorians the fine art to handle a pen... in their language, of course.

Purry rolled over herself for the hundreth time, beneath the rough sheets and poorly made blanket that covered her bed. She released a frustrated huff and sprawled her limbs over, feet kicking at the covers, an arm dangling over the edge of the wooden bed. Oh, how bothered she was that sleep seemed to want nothing with her. From her little nest, she could watch the moon through a stained window; a crescent majestically laying with the stars. Soon it would dawn, and yet she was still awake.
Finally sitting upon the bed, she proposed herself to drink something; something alcoholic would do the trick, yes, she thought.

Peeking out of her bedroom to assure herelf that everyone was asleep, she tiptoed over the wooden floors slowly, lest she stepped on a loose plank that could squeak - she couldn't afford to wake anyone; and silently managed to reach the bar area. It was odd, really; how a place looked so different while deserted, silent and in the dark.

A quick reach towards the lower shelves of the barstool revealed a bottle of cider and an overused cup; the lynx rejoiced. The cork came out with a pop, liquid was poured into the cup with a soft 'glug glug' sound. Purry leaned against the shelves from inside the bar and glanced around the establishment; taking the cup to her lips, she swirled its' contents and allowed herself to daze out for moments, memories swirling in her head just as the cider in her cup.

With a swish, she downed the drink in one sip, exhaling as her muzzle lowered again - and as she did this, something caught her attention; something that was sticking out from between some of the dusted, labeless bottles: a book.
"What in blazes..?", thought Purry as she pulled out the ragged, aged pile of sheets from its' last laying place. Curiosity had surpassed whatever fear she might have had on account of messing around with things that weren't her own, and so she dusted off the ripped cover, dark green in appearance, and flashed it open: what a surprise! Its' yellowed, torn pages had nothing to say. From beginning to end, it was nothing except dust and some ripped pages.

A rather loud cracking sound of wood against wood made her jump, startled. Purry finally realised she had been there for way too much time; she couldn't have the matron up and yelling at her for being awake. Deciding she didn't want to part with this misterious book, or at least not just right away, she quickly returned to her room and slipped into her sheets again, concealing the book under her bed. Discoveries would have to be made later...
Distracted with thoughts and rocked by the comforting cup of cider, it wasn't long before the lynx fell into a deep slumber.