Beni loathed cities.

Ever since the young Renjin thief's fateseer abilities had awakened, every metropolitan area looked like a game of cat's cradle gone horribly wrong. Every street was strung up with hundreds upon hundreds of little red threads winding and criss-crossing, tangling and writhing, connecting every person to their moments of destiny. Potential lovers, guaranteed betrayals, business partners, best chums, the thousand turntables on which a life might pivot to a new track, each suspending a red string that only Beni and his ilk could see and touch, each pulsing with a different rhythm as potential energy waxed and waned. In small groups, he could train himself to ignore the glow and thrum like the flickering of a candle or a rather insistent cicada, but a city center was like trying to ignore a whirlgig covered in mirrors and whistles spinning in bright sunlight. He'd rather spare himself the headache, even if it meant his pickpocket training went stale.

Unfortunately, he was lost and separated from his companions, and he had the sinking feeling that they'd go somewhere just lousy with inhabitants. "There's nothing for it," he muttered, walking through the open city gates with his eyes turned down. "Be steady as the mountain."

An hour later, walking through the same plaza for the third time, his eyes happened upon another thief. Another vulpine thief, even. A ... rather large vulpine thief, for that matter. Not that the fellow's profession was obvious to the average citizen, of course - to survive in his old life, Beni had learned the subtle tells commonly practiced among the urban underbelly. And what an underbelly ... four hundred pounds if he was an ounce! The red fox must be a successful thief indeed if he could afford to feed and clothe himself so well. Best to quell any suspicion before it formed. He sidled up next to the big fellow and gave a discreet nod.

"Haven't seen you around here before." The red fox took a bite of a roast beef sandwich with romaine lettuce and calculated nonchalance.

"Only appropriate - I haven't seen here before."

"Well ... I don't expect you'll find anything here that someone else isn't already looking at." The edge in the larger thief's voice, though quiet, was unmistakable.

"Oh - I'm not here on sightseeing business, sorry." Beni offered a placating smile, both hands in the open. "Fact of the matter is, I haven't been a practicing tourist in ages. But I lost track of my traveling companions a day or two ago after a scuffle with monsters ... and in all honesty, I don't recognize any of the landscape around here. If you know where I might go to ask directions ..."

"Try the chapel by the lake." The larger fox gestured with his free hand. "The clergy here can be pushy if they think you might convert, but they're harmless enough."

"Much obliged." He turned to go ... and it happened. The unmistakable pizzicato of a new string pulling taut. He'd walked right into a fated encounter.

'Fated' usually only had one T, though.

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