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“You’re still doing archery Marquis?” Winfred asked as we walked into Mark’s house, the new guy glancing around the fairly cluttered house and catching a glimpse of Mark’s collection of bows.
“Yeh’ of course, why the hell would I give that up?” Mark asked with a little scoff as he lead us into the main-seating area and went to light the fireplace. Mark’s place used to be an old cattle barn, it was one of the first buildings on the property. My parents never cared all the much for cattle so they converted it into another living space. Once Mark came around they offered him residence in exchange for work and he’d thoroughly made it his own. It was a small place, it had a tiny kitchen, an open living space, and his bedroom that used to be a calving stall with a loft on top where he stored other bits and bobs which included Walt sometimes. The place pretty much always smelled like alcohol, smoke, and a mix of dirt and fancy cologne that Marquis always wore. It was definitely cozy in my standards.
Winfred’s ears perked up when he got to the coffee table, observing the cluster of intricate sketches thrown about, many of the different animals around the stables, and a couple rough sketches of Mark and Walt, each donning a messing unintelligible print-signature.
“Wow! Marquis, are these your drawings?” Winfred asked, leaning down and moving some papers to get a better look.
“Nah, those are Walt’s. Don’t touch them, they don’t like that,” Mark said, moving Winfred’s hand away.
“My bad, they’re fantastic!” Winfred beamed, looking to Walt. “These are beautiful Walt, you’re really talented!” He said cheerfully. Walt looked confused, but with the way they pricked their ears forward said they took it kindly.
“Well, Winfred, I already introduced you, but this is Burt and Walt. You can sit and relax and I’ll go make some tea,” Mark said happily before beginning on his way to the kitchen, the scrawny one-armed man followed him along like a shadow. I stayed quiet as I sat on the couch and Winfred sat himself down on a single chair. He looked around the house with a content smile, darkness under his eyes from his sleepiness. I caught Walt watching Winfred like a hawk as they shadowed Mark. I stayed quiet the whole time, looking down to the pelt-carpet Mark bought at a thrift store until Mark finished up.
“Winfred, how was the whole ‘getting to Deautschria’ thing for you?” Marquis asked, placing down the freshly brewed tea on the coffee table. He then sat himself down close next to me and crossed his hock over his stifle whilst resting his arm on the back of the couch. Winfred thought on it for a moment as he picked up a tea cup.
“Well! I left London on say… the 25th of July, made it to France, got lost in France for about two months. I became a legal adult in France, that too,” Winfred said. I furrowed my brow as I sat back, my head resting on Mark’s arm.
“Oh! You just turned eighteen?” Mark asked, his ears perking up. “Eighteen ..?” I thought to myself. That certainly wasn’t the age I thought this guy was. I swore he had to have been a couple years older than I.
“Yea’ I’m finally legal,” Winfred said with a laugh, his stress seeming to diminish as he shimmied into the chair to get comfy.
“Man, now I feel old,” Mark said. “You were only ten the last time I saw you!” Winny laughed and shrugged.
“I grew up a little, I suppose,” The new guy said.
“Hah! Little is an understatement. Anyways, apologies for interrupting, continue,” Mark said. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Walt poking their head up just enough to peek over to the back of the couch.
“Uh yea’ I got lost in France for two months but that was kinda fun. Then I’ve been lost in Germany for the last month and it’s been terrible! Autumn has not be treating me kindly!” Winfred explained, glancing about the converted farm. “I uh, got caught up in Berlin for the last few days. Beautiful city! Truly! Germany is a neat place. I got to see the castle just outside of the city limits and wow! That was so cool even if It was super small in the distance. Although, Berlin was so stressful, ugh!” Winfred complained, using one hand to wave it about as he spoke. It was somewhat amusing hearing such a flamboyant tone in such a low voice. “It was one thing when I was stuck in the middle of the countryside, it’s autumn, I can begrudgingly steal a few crops here and there to hold me over. But uh, I’m rambling again so, I’ll hush,” He said and looked down.
“Ramble all you want, this one does it all the time,” I assured him, pointing to Mark with my thumb. Mark shrugged with a tiny nod.
“No, no, it’s fine. I can talk more about myself later, but you’re letting me stay in your house. You guys tell me about your life,” Winfred insisted with a nervous laugh, followed by a sip of his tea.
“Oh bah’ not much has happened here. You’re the one who crossed borders of two warring empires,” Mark scoffed.
“It wasn’t that difficult! I was surprised, I mean, in Deautschria I’ve been being chased down by the police and I’ve been paranoid everywhere. However, actually passing through Fenland into Deautschria was so simple. I didn’t even realise I was in Deautschria until my primary-school-level French got people staring at me. In turn, that got the police coming after me and now my face is in the newspaper!” Winfred explained. “Ach! You got me rambling again!” Winfred exclaimed, smacking a hand onto his forehead. I chuckled quietly at the anxious guy. “Enough of that, I don’t wanna think about that anymore.”
“Fair enough, I can’t imagine how rough that must’ve been,” Mark sighed. I thought for a moment, watching Winfred twirl his thumb around the handle of the tea cup.
“Say, Winfred, what were you doing when you lived in Fenland?” I asked, bringing my paws up and tilting my head. His round, tan ears perked up and he looked my way for a moment with his hazel eyes wide. He glanced away and tightened his face for a moment.
“I was just out of school. I wasn’t doing much. I was just living with my parents and…” He trailed off, going quiet for a moment. “Yea. That’s it. I wasn’t leading a very interesting life.” Mark squinted and raised an eyebrow.
“When did you leave school?” Mark asked.
“When I was fifteen, they let me leave,” Winfred shrugged. Mark looked perplexed.
“You weren’t doing anything for the past three years?” Mark asked. “I thought you were supposed to unless laws have changed.” Winfred shrugged.
“You got out of school at fifteen? That’s lucky. I had to stay in school till I was Eighteen!” I scoffed.
“That’s because you went to that special Public school or whatever,” Mark said. “In Britain, and most of Fenland it is now, you stay in general school till your sixteen. Winfred’s lucky because his birthday is right on the cusp so he got to leave early. But, after you leave at 16 you have to seek higher education, or get some sort of job until you’re eighteen I think. I think the military is an option too- right Winfred?” Mark explained. Winfred shrugged again.
“I dunno,” Winfred said, continuing to look off to the side.
“Damn, who knows what I’m talking about,” Mark scoffed, scrunching up his nose.
“You’re probably right and I was unknowingly breaking the law,” Winfred said with another nervous laugh. “I’m eighteen anyways so I’m in the clear.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Mark shrugged. I smiled. I was warming up to this guy already, my tail shuddering a bit in admiration. Awkward, but likable, I nodded to myself. “Since apparently we’re interrogating you now, what do you even wanna do as a job?” Mark asked.
“Haven’t thought about it much,” Winfred replied. “I don’t anticipate too much, especially now that I’ve fled the country,” He said, his eyes moving about the room before focusing on Walt. Mark and I couldn’t help but look over at Walt as well.
“What's the lion guy’s name again?” Walt asked in a mere whisper.
“Winfred,” Mark answered. Walt’s squint intensified towards him for a moment before softening and lifting up his hand from behind the couch.
“Oi, Winfred!” Walt shouted. They held up an open palm for a moment before switching to a thumbs-up. I initially thought he was telling Winfred “up yours” before they switched to a thumbs-down, then switching between the two and raising an eyebrow. I looked over to see the gears slowing turning in Winfred’s brain, as his thinking intensified his expression tightened. His eyes lit up. Winfred quickly gave Walt a thumbs up, his nervous smile changing to a genuine bright and cheerful one. Winfred giggled and looked away from Walt, who kept themself hidden. Not hidden to Mark and I, we could both see them crouching behind the couch quite easily. That was besides the point anyways.
“Wow he’s cute,” Winny said, the words just seem to slip out of his mouth. Once realisation smacked him in the face his face went red and he quickly covered his mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that! I’m tired!” He quickly explained, his round ears pinning back flat. Winfred quickly looked away, murmuring to himself worriedly. My primary thought was “how the hell do you find that stray cat of a man cute.” Nothing more, nothing less. All until processing Winfred’s frantic reaction.
“Eh, Walt’s occasionally charming,” Mark said with a shrug.
“No, I didn’t mean it in anyways I was just- uh, I was just saying it was a cute gesture!” Winny laughed, sinking into his seat.
“That’s all fine,” Marquis shrugged. “I think I’ve accidentally said -and done- much much worse,” He said. Taking a quick think back to how affectionate I knew my tall British friend got, I could recall quite a good few times where he’d cross the line on his platonic show of affections towards our other friends. Winfred seemed exhausted and I couldn’t blame him for slipping up like that at all. Maybe it’s a British thing? I thought. My ears perked up.
“Not to interrupt, but what are we going to do with Winfred?” I inquired, turning my attention towards Marquis. Marquis’s ear perked up.
“Thank you for bringing that up again, it’s a great question,” Mark replied with a nod. “I think we should make sure he’s had food before we do anything else. He did say he hadn’t any food for the last week..” That was my cue to go make dinner because otherwise if one of the other buffoons tried the two would most likely burn the house down, then the whole property, then we’d all die. Frankly? That didn’t sound all that great to me.
After discovering Marquis had nothing but random junk in his kitchen, I had no choice but to make the journey from the front of the barn to the back of the barn where the main house was while it was frigid and dark outside. Mark had been so kind as to let me borrow a black trench coat of his. It didn’t fit me well at all, Mark had a much broader build than my own and the way the shoulders of the coat drooped down a good third of my upper arm and hid my hands in the sleeves I looked ridiculous- like a little kid wearing his dad’s coat. I’m sure I looked all the more embarrassing as I shuffled up the long gravel road, flinching and squeaking against the cold stone. I gave the livestock watching me a small warning glare to
make sure they never spoke of this incident with anyone else.
The uncomfortable four minutes ended with me piling into the hallway of our house with the orangey light stinging my eyes which had just adjusted to the blue dusk lighting outside. It was nice to have my feet against solid ground again. I gently turned to close the door with a tiny click.
“Burton Winston?” Godamnit. I groaned internally and threw a silent momentary temper tantrum about my mum recognising me so easily.
“Yes mum?” I replied after getting over my five second tantrum.
“Come here,”
“Where’s ‘here?’” I asked.
“Young man I’m not messing around,” My mother muttered. I travelled to her most likely location which was a small study where she liked to do little arts and crafts. The room was dark besides the work lamp my mum had on and focussed to her current project. The study was cluttered and busy just like how my mum liked it. She had four shelves of finished works, consisting of plushies and hand crafted baby dolls, other work in progress and finished pieces were tossed aimlessly around the room along with potted plants and family photos. It was my mum’s space through and through- my father couldn’t step foot in there without getting a headache from the unorganised mess (which in my mother’s eyes was organised in her own way.)
“Why are you out so late?” She started, putting down her current work which looked like another plush- she usually sold them or gave them to family members. I had a plethora of toys and such made by her still sitting around my room.
“I was hanging out with Walt and Mark, I came up to grab some things to make food,” I answered, leaning on the creaky wooden doorway.
“Well-” she turned her chair around. Oh boy. “Your father told me about what happened today with Mrs. Pfieffer…”
“Mum, I already cleared it up with dad. It’s not a good time.”
“I think anytime is a good time for your mother to ask you about a serious issue! How would you feel if some cocky kid came running through one of our crop fields?”
“Please Mum, I need to go back to Walt and Mark.”
“Burton Winston Garrett Foxford, do you know how much trouble you could’ve gotten into! There was a whole regime of royal guards out there this afternoon! What if they caught you destroying someone’s property and we would have to go all the way to the Berlin jail to apologise for our son wasting their time. I don’t want to ever see you in handcuffs, youngman!” She snapped. I tensed up and pinned my ears back and looked away.
“I didn’t raise a criminal, Burton,” She said, her voice returning to it’s soft tone.
“It wasn’t that big of damage, Mum… only a few crops were damaged. They would’ve been fine.”
“Mrs.Pfieffer’s husband is on the verge of death, that’s hard on her, Burty… You can’t blame her for being as cranky as she is. She’s going through a hard time and I think you should go apologise in person,” She advised me. I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me.”
“It really isn’t that serious!” I insisted.
“I swear Burton…” She growled.
“Mrs. Pfeiffer threatened to have Marquis shot! I’m allowed to be just as upset!” I argued. She then rolled her eyes at me. My mum gave a long sigh and looked off for a minute, tapping her finger on her desk. She shook her head, some of her blonde hair loosening from her bun.
“What am I going to do with you Burton…”
I looked to my paws and shrugged. She was quiet as she pondered to herself.
“You know the guards were out there looking for a Fenlish man?” She brought up, turning her face to me. My gut tightened.
“Really?” I asked, attempting to act completely oblivious.
“Yeah, I heard about it earlier while you three were out. I got a bit worried that they would take you or Mark in because you both tend to speak English,” She said and sat back. “Hence why I'm so worried about you guys being a nuisance to the neighbours… I wouldn’t find it unlikely to see one of them trying to report you as a Fenlish man. It would be a whole other hassle to tell them you weren’t!” I furrowed my brow.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“It’s complicated. I was talking to your father about it earlier and he was saying that just the fact you speak English is dangerous. He was going on about you being deemed a spy, et cetera. He said Marquis could get in a world of trouble as well for having taught you English, and then you’d both be in trouble. Lord, was that cause for anxiety!” She explained. “Thankfully he said there was a description of the guy and you guys are both the furthest thing from it!” I bit my lip and swallowed hard on my saliva gripping my arm with a quick nod. “Something like a tall man with curly blond hair, freckles, with a red and white horse. I thought on it and decided ‘yeah, no, none of the boys are gonna get mistaken for that.’ and I relaxed.”
“Never seen anyone to fit that description!” I said nervously.
“Rumour has it that he’s a spy who’s been spotted around the castle,” She said. “Not a very good one, but scary that the Fenlish already have sent out against us..” She muttered. My ears pinned back.
“It may seem ridiculous to you Burty, but the Fenlish are a force to be reckoned with. Although they are a small empire, they are a powerful one, and a brutal one..” She warned. I’d heard stories of both empires being horrible… I thought to myself.
“We’ve done some terrible things as well. Deautschria isn’t innocent,” I admitted.
“Not recently! We’ve been very clean under King Ludwik’s rule!” She tried to convince me.
“King Ludwik is just a sit in for whenever they find the supposed son King Conrad left behind in some undisclosed location!” I scoffed, tossing my hands up at the absurdity of it for someone to find this child who was rumoured to be so disfigured that he had to be killed at birth. “Sounds like some ridiculous fairy tale shit!”
“Burton!” She hissed.
“I’m just saying, I think the chances are highly unlikely for them to be able to recover a mangled and disfigured infant corpse out of a shallow grave and slap it onto the throne and say ‘look guys! It’s the new king!’ It’s just the Eberheardt’s cover up for the fact there’s no heir!” I ranted on, raising my voice, which was a normal speaking volume for the average elfen. The look of disgust on my mother’s face signified impending trouble. “I’m just saying it doesn’t seem plausible!”
“William, get over here and talk to your son!” She called out. I contained another groan and lowered my brow with a pout. It took my father a moment to get to the small and dimly lit hallway that led to my mother’s study with it’s array of family photos on the paneled walls- all of my mother’s family and our quaint household, occasionally including Mark and Walt.
“What did Burton do this time,” My father muttered unenthusiastically.
“He’s talking poorly about the royals again…” My mother huffed.
“Oh pff, he’s twenty three, twenty-year-olds talk bad about the government all the time,” My father shrugged.
“Okay well it’s different for you! You come from-“ She quickly stopped herself. “Difference circumstances…” My mother mumbled. That was weird. I squinted. As far as I knew both of my parents came from the countryside.
“Nice save…” My father muttered.
“Sorry…” My mother grumbled.
“What do you mean by different circumstances” I asked.
“You’ll find out eventually,” He shrugged.
“When?”
“Eventually. Now, why are you up here at the house? I thought you were spending the night at Mark’s house?” He said changing the subject. I knew I had pushed my luck enough that day, I didn’t want to risk pushing it anymore.
“I came up to grab some food to make dinner for the… three of us,” I said. “I forgot Walt existed for a moment,” I said with an unconvincing chuckle. I got my lying skills from my mum.
“Help yourself,” My mum said and got up to leave the room. My dad crossed his arms and looked at me and raised an eyebrow. Before any words were said, he walked off. I let out a deep sigh, and made my way to the kitchen. I collected some food, and began to head back down the long gravel path in the pitch black.
There was no time for me to relax after making dinner for everyone and to better acquaint myself with Winfred. Once we had finished dinner, Walt poked his head out of the coat wardrobe where they had secluded themself for “Walt reasons” and informed us that they had to meet someone that night or they would get (in his words) “The literal shit in my bowels from this dinner beat out” of them. Apparently this guy they had to meet let Walt stay at his house one night and gave them food when they were ill and Walt never paid him back for it. Marquis had gone on a small rant on how the guy should’ve just helped Walt for free rather than continue to fuss about it after all was said and done, but I managed to hush him up and get him to cool himself off before he got too heated. Mark initially offered to go with Walt, but after seeing how passionate he had gotten about someone threatening his figurative little brother, I forcefully stepped in for the roll. Putting on that oversized trench coat once again, with scrawny little Walt being ambitious and not taking any cover for the cold, I was back out onto the cold gravel.
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