Tales of Kirin Rodeos and Competitive Natural Selection

Finnian took a bite from the remaining sliver of jerky and chewed as Panjo spoke to him. In the midst of the other’s words, Finnian shot a glance–scrunched nose and all–down at the remaining dried meat clutched in his hand. Guild-made jerky; it being flavorless and over-dried was a given. Never failed to disgust him, but he had little choice but to eat it as a replacement for a full meal. After Finnian choked down the mouthful with a dry cough, he held a reply to Panjo at the ready.        

“I don’t know too much about Moga, but what I do know pretty much warrants you have to be ready to go swimming at any moment. If you ask me, the residents are smart for dressing accordingly. I don’t think most get you’re not going to wear your Sunday best when a wave can come knocking on your door at any moment.” said Finnian, motioning his hand at Panjo. He wasn’t going to deny how judgemental people could be around these parts if someone didn’t stick to what they deemed as normal. Hell, all it took was a single, minor impression for it to the sole thing they would forever remember you by. It’s not like Finnian knew about that or anything, not at all.        

Upon Panjo’s mention of monsters, Finnian found himself leaning closer over the table. From his relaxed brow to his attentive eyes, consider him interested. “Lagiacrus? Huh, that’s news to me. Never heard anything about one causing earthquakes, must be a huge one if it can do that.” he mused. Lagiacrus was nothing to sneeze at to begin with; the great Leviathan alone was a sight to behold. Just how big would one have to be to rock an area with earthquakes? That’s a question Finnian would love to get an answer to.        

His attention wandered away from Panjo, shifting to rest upon Poki instead. That was quite the expression he had there. Perhaps Poki smelled the felvine Finnian always kept on him? In that case, he wouldn’t even be mad if Poki desired to snatch some. As long as his precious supplies were untouched, he didn’t care. Where Finnian’s true concerns lay, however, was upon the plate before Poki. His eyes narrowed a little, and a single corner of his lips pulled back. He was already suspect enough that the plate once contained the full meal he ordered. Between the little remnants of food already consumed and what was left be eaten…there was no doubt about it now. That was it. Finnian leaned back, drumming his fingertips against the tabletop.        

“You know, as far as I know, I’m the only one who prefers gravy with his truffles, and it’s rather…interesting your friend here got the same sides as me before someone made off with it. I don’t know whether to commend his taste, or–”        

“That’s beclaws it is your plate. Would have said something sooner but you shut me up, so…” Ace spoke up as he slapped the back of his paw against Finnian’s forearm, “He’s a Melynx. Don’t know what else you’d expect, nya.”

Panjo curled his lips inward as Finnian slowly put the pieces together, making a quick glance at Poki, who took another large bite while the other hunter was clearly calling him out, eye wandering towards his backpack. While Finnian had every reason to be pissed (if that’s where it was about to go, which Panjo was 99% sure that’s exactly where this was going to go,) he was not looking forward to paying for that plate-- truffles were never cheap. Unfortunately when the rather loud palico called Poki right out, he knew he needed to think fast. 

Poki’s almost tranced gaze came to a screeching halt when the other Palico called him out, and before Panjo knew it, Poki was already hopped back up on the table, hissin’ and spittin’ at the other cat.  

“Mrowwww thats it! If its a fight you want, here it comes, mew stupid cat!” Poki reared his head before spitting the contents of food at the other Palico. “Nya hah hah! Meow who’s the stinky furball?!”

Panjo’s nostrils flared. Fine. If those two wanted to fight so bad, let em’. He looked back to Finn, ”Aight’ aight’,” Panjo lifted his hands upward, “M’ sure this’ all some big misundastadin’.” Panjo pulled out his coinpurse from behind, swinging the pouchstrings around his fingers, “Look, m’ willing t’ pay if that shit was yours n’ all, but I’m gonna need some proof ‘ere first.” The coin purse swung back into his hand, giving it a firm grip. He looked back at the mostly eaten plate, then back to Finnian.