GG Event - A Deal's A Deal

    There were far too many kits to vet and far too little time. Nana Flowers had nearly caught Tattle Tale multiple times; she had to be stalking Tattle and Emily. There was no way all of these close calls were coincidental.

    Tattle chittered into his scarf as Emily darted from shadow to shadow, looking for potential kits.

    It wasn't fair. All Tattle was doing was helping take a load off the Den Mothers' paws, but they treated him like he was seconds away from turning into a Vendetta.

    Where were they when he needed help?

    Where were the Den Mothers when bullies tore his book to shreds and cackled while taking his well-loved pages?

    But, the second Tattle wanted to do anything for himself, Nana, Eeko, or Susan were breathing down his back.

    'Hypocrites, the whole lot.

    A familiar whirring came from his side as Emily tapped back over to him.

    "You found someone?"

    Emily whirred with delight before skittering off, leaving Tattle to follow. He trotted along after the stalker-type, keeping an eye and ear out for any pesky Den Mothers, but they seemed to be in the clear. Tattle's ears did catch on another noise, however.

    It was musical, like someone playing with an instrument, and Tattle grinned.

    Oh, that tiny little Automaton was a genius. The music would easily cover the kits' conversation, and the Den Mothers wouldn't be so rude as to interrupt someone in the middle of a hobby.

    Tattle would be so rude, but this was for a greater good.

    He walked into the room, and both immediately zeroed in on the next target. It was a mid-aged kit with grey and cream fur and soft blue wings (the location of one of the pairs was intriguing. You didn't see many head wings, at least not until last month). Their dark shawl and pants were well kept but lacked the distinctive reek of the Den Mothers' laundry detergent.

    A lone agent, then.

    Perfection.

    Emily darted silently into the shadows under the table where the other kit sat while Tattle walked up beside his new best bud.

    "Well, well, well. You play the—" Tattle glanced down at the rather beaten up string instrument but didn't miss a beat, continuing. "—Violin rather well! But, don't the Den Mothers mind all the noise?"

    The other kit paused their fiddling with the violin's knobs and gazed towards Tattle. It was— well, it was less disturbing than Tattle's eyes, he knew, but it was still odd. One was a dark desaturated brown, while the other was a pastel blue, which flecked their phylactery. 'Nowhere near as saturated as Tattle's own, but—

    That blue eye was sharp and seemed to stare right into him.

    They set the violin down on the table and raised their claws to sign. "I'm not playing. I'm tuning it. This instrument's not playing correctly, but that's no reason to throw it away.

    "But that's not why you're talking to me. You want out. Why?"

    Tattle blinked before chuckling. It wasn't the happiest of sounds. "Huh, you're quite the quick kit, aren't you. So, you want in?"

    "The whole Den is singing about your plans. Word travels fast from folk to folk." They explained with a shrug. "But still, why?"

    After a pause, Tattle shrugged and slid an arm over the taller kit, leaning in close. "Do you want to stay in this madhouse longer than you have to? First, it was the rules and things they wouldn't explain to us. Now doctors and nurses are prodding at us and not telling us why.

    "What do you think comes next?"

    The other kit went stiff, and their paws went still.

    Luckily, Tattle could hide his grin into his scarf. 'Hook, line, sinker, and he had another helper.

    But, eventually, the other kit's paws moved once more. "You're scared. Aren't you?"

    Tattle went still.

    "You dance differently," the kit signed while looking Tattle over. "You dance to a different tune, and they're scared of you. They'd try and force you to dance in sync."

    After a thoughtful pause, the other kit's mismatched eyes went wide, and their paws stuttered.

    "They'd make him dance to a different tune."

    Welp, Tattle had utterly lost the thread of this conversation, but maybe he could get it back under control. "Oh— yeah, they'd make him dance differently? I mean, yes, they would. But I can get us all out of here. We've found a spot where adult folk can't reach. `Just until all this nonsense blows over and we can go back to our lives, interruptions not included.

    "So, you want to help me?"

    It took a while, but the kit, who finally introduced themselves as Seelie Hollow, nodded, and Tattle Tale explained the plan. With enough kits (and Seelie generously offered their sibling as another candidate to help), looking around the Den for the stolen papers would be easy, and it wouldn't be as apparent as just Tattle looking. Then, once they had the map together, with more than enough paws, escaping would be a breeze.

    That's where they hit another stitch.

    "I can't leave."

    Tattle's eye twitched, but he quickly smoothed out his expression. Each kit that knew the plan, but rejected it, was another that could turn and tattle right to the Den Mothers. "Oh, come on, you're not backing out on our deal now, are you? I'll make it worth your while."

    Seelie shook their head with a smile. "No, no, you worry too much. I won't tell, and I will help. But I cannot leave the Den."

    He looked over the kit, trying to spot any further changes besides the wings and the eyes, but Tattle spotted none. "... You're not even that mutated," he mumbled with confusion.

    Seelie chuckled as their gaze drifted down to the violin. "No, but I danced too long."

    They sighed and took a cloth to wipe another layer of dust off the instrument. Tattle waited for the other kit to finish before cocking his head to the side, waiting for an answer.

    "I danced too long, and now I still wish to dance. But dancing is not conducive to a good sleep schedule. I wouldn't make it two steps from the Den before collapsing to the ground."

    Tattle chittered through his teeth. So much for that plan. But again, Seelie chuckled, shaking their head. It jingled musically.

    "But this is better." Their eyes gleamed, and the blue one went sharp once more, peering directly through the smaller kit. "You need to create a scene to leave. You need a distraction.

    "What's a better one to get rid of all the doctors than a kit having a medical emergency?"

    It took a minute, but a grin quickly split Tattle's snout. Oh, Seelie was the perfect distraction. They were a rule-abiding kit and too quiet for anyone to think it was a plot. It couldn't have been better. And they even gave him a new candidate, who Tattle should go vet. He'd been in this room for long enough that the Den Mothers were likely getting suspicious. And he did not want to deal with Nana's sandal.

    Again.

    With a shake of paws and a quick rattling off of Seelie's sibling's favourite hangouts, Tattle turned to walk out of the music room.

    Seelie coughed.

    Tattle turned around to look back at them and—

    Froze.

    Because there, in Seelie's paws, Emily squirmed and whirred in terror.

    He'd nearly forgotten that he's sent her to pin Seelie into talking.

    "You forgot your friend," Seelie whispered as they turned the Automaton over in their grasp. "'Hate for something to happen to it."

    Their gaze narrowed and drifted back up to a statue-still Tattle Tale.

    "You're putting a lot of responsibility into your paws. 'A lot of folks are counting on you, my sibling included.

    "And if you haven't thought this through— if something goes wrong— if Qil gets hurt—"

    Seelie's paws curled harder against Emily as they let their claws gingerly tap her metal casing.

    "If Qil gets hurt, I will take your friend to the top of the Elder Tree. I will take it up there, and I will dance to the sounds of its disembowelment as it hits the floor miles below."

    And, just as gingerly as Seelie had plucked Emily from the ground, they set her down, letting her scuttle, terrified, back towards a still frozen Tattle Tale.

    "Don't go back on our deal now," Seelie signed, turning around, back to tuning their violin.

    They didn't even flick an ear as Tattle turned tail and followed a fleeing Emily back into the heart of the Den.