Echoes of Hope

Weeeeell I intended to wait longer on this but apparently I'm more inspired to write it than I thought. It'll probably update spottily, but... eh. 
I tried to write this long, long ago and it just didn't work out. But this time I (and several others, including my mom) are completely in love with it. So I suppose I will post it, and try again. I feel a little out of my league with this book, as it is not my normal genre or situation. But I guess I'm expanding my skill set XD
I usually don't write romance. So... don't expect this story to be normal. lol
I hope you enjoy my Whegg and Gina centric short story. 
Content Warning:
This story deals with themes of assault. While I am not overly graphic about it, it is an issue all throughout the book. If that is upsetting to you, I would not recommend reading. 
== Chapter 1 One in a Thousand ==
Ow.
Whegg slowly blinked his eyes open, instantly feeling the dull, throbbing ache in the back of his head.
Everything was too bright and speckled with little spots of darkness. He groaned, truly miserable. This had to be the worst hangover he’d ever experienced.
“Hoi, good ta see ya back, little matey.”
That was Rupert’s voice. 
What had happened? Whegg blinked hard, trying to discern where he was. He could see the stones of the barracks around him. How had he gotten here? Hadn’t he been in a tavern?
Yes, he was sure that he had. Clinks of mugs and drunken laughter had filled the air, the last time he could remember.
“Mate, ya hit yer head hard.” Rupert spoke again. Whegg could see him, sitting at a low table a few feet away and playing cards with Duane.
Whegg cautiously sat up and gingerly touched the lump on the back of his head. 
Hellgates, but that hurt.
What had he been doing? He could distinctly remember being punched in the face.
“Did I start a fight?” Whegg mumbled to his companions. “‘M sorry.”
Both Rupert and Duane burst into raucous laughter. Whegg felt that his two fellow guards laughed far longer than was warranted. At last, Duane wiped his eyes. “Start a fight? Whegg, ya had a single mug a ale an’ got so drunk ya passed out an’ fell off yer barstool.”
Duane tapped at his temple, right below his fuzzy brown ear. “Ya hit yer head purty hard.”
“Had us worried fer a bit.” Rupert added, sorting through his playing cards.
Whegg just stared at them, before indignantly blurting, “I can hold me ale better’n that!”
Ow! He sucked in a breath at the pain that lanced through his head at his outburst.
Duane snorted, laying two of his cards face up on the table. “Sure ya can kit. An’ that’s why I found ya makin’ out with the floor. Must’a been a nice floor… or ya just passed out. An’ honestly, that option sounds less embarrassing.”
“I was not…” Whegg sputtered. “I kissed a barmaid, not the floor!”
Both Rupert and Duane paused their game, and stared at him.
The bargirl. Of course! How could he forget her? His friends were laughing again, but Whegg ignored them and rubbed the side of his throbbing head. His mind kept racing, cruelly disregarding what was likely a fairly bad concussion.
The barmaid had been stunning; and so odd too, with her fur the color of tarnished gold and soft, round features. She’d looked like no one he’d ever seen. She’d turned his world on its head and made him feel ten times more drunk than ale ever had.
And he had kissed her. That memory wouldn’t stop playing through his mind now that he’d recalled it.
Wait. 
Had she been the one who’d punched him in the face?
Whegg rubbed his muzzle, staring down at the red flakes of dried blood that had come off in his paw. That was consistent with trauma to the nose, at least.
“The girl.” Whegg said, looking up at Rupert and Duane. They paused their merriment at his expense, and blinked at him, looking confused.
Whegg pressed. “There was a girl there. Real short with gold fur an’ purty black hair. Ya saw her; I kissed her!”
There was silence. And again, his fellow soldiers laughed uproariously.
Whegg crossed his arms. “What? It’s not funny!”
Duane pounded on the table as though begging for mercy while he choked on his own amusement.
Rupert cleared his throat. “Whegg. Ya ain’t the kissin’ type. We’ve all seen ya, ya get too scared ta even look a girl in the eyes, even when one’s practically throwin’ herself at ya. Ya wuss out an’ flee.”
“Like a kit!” Duane gasped, unhelpfully.
“I do not!” Whegg protested too strongly, or at least, his aching head thought so.
Whegg hadn’t thought it possible, but Daune actually managed to laugh harder as he wheezed, “Our little Whegg, kiss a girl?”
“I did!” Whegg protested. “An’ I ain’t a kit, I made it through the academy, didn’t I?”
“With flyin’ colors.” Rupert admitted, sagly switching one of Duane’s cards for his own as the ferret nearly died of amusement. “Ya just donno how ta deal with females, mate.”
“I bet…” Duane gasped, slumping to the floor. “I bet he fainted!”
Rupert chuckled at this. 
Indignant, Whegg heaved himself to his paws. “I did not! The girl’s real, I know she is. I’m gonna find her again an’ kiss her an’ that’ll prove it!”
Before his older companions could say a word, Whegg turned and stalked toward the barracks’ door.
“Go ta the healers, are ya daft?” Rupert yelled after him.
Whegg didn’t respond as he stormed from the barracks, only to dizzily lean against the wall of the hallway outside.
Everything hurt, and the world was spinning. Despite his annoyance at Rupert’s mockery, Whegg took his advice. He dragged himself to Kotir’s infirmary and ignored the gruff old weasel healer as he muttered about young, drunk buffoons.
As he sat on a chair and let the healer bind his head injury, Whegg finally had some time to think. 
He was already regretting his words. Find the barmaid and kiss her? What had he been thinking?
If he didn’t succeed, Duane would laugh at him forever. He could never work up the courage to kiss any girl before, so what made him think he could do it when he wasn’t tipsy and addled by seeing the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on?
Whegg swallowed hard as the weight of his stupidity settled on his shoulders, and he felt the ache in his jaw and upper muzzle. 
She had punched him in the face. Whegg was almost certain, but… why?
Unless… Whegg froze. 
Unless she hadn’t wanted to kiss him. Suddenly, Whegg felt his cheeks flush beneath his fur, and he buried his face in his paws.
“Hold still.” The weasel healer grumbled, adding in a mutter, “Little fool.”
Whegg was a fool, and he knew it. The first time he’d gathered the courage to kiss a girl… he’d completely forgotten how she might feel about the arrangement. He’d just seen an opportunity and taken it, without her consent at all.
Hellgates, you stupid little… jerk! Stupid!
And she’d been so beautiful too. The most beautiful rat Whegg had even seen. Had he ruined his chances with her?
Of course you have.
“There. Don’t do anything exertin’ fer the next week. I’ll write ya a report fer his majesty. I’ll let ya tell yer prince why ya ain’t fit fer duty fer a week, though. Have fun.” The healer spoke as he walked to a table set against the infirmary wall. 
Whegg sighed. He supposed he deserved this misfortune.
The healer shoved a slip of parchment into Whegg’s paws moments later, and pointed at the door. “Out.”
Whegg slipped off his chair and obeyed. As he left he heard the healer grumble “Soldiers.”
Thick-headed dolts.
Whegg mentally finished the healers complaints, even if that hadn’t been what the weasel had planned to say. It was what he felt like.
He made his way into the East wing of Kotir, toward the prince’s office. He passed plenty of his fellow soldiers on duty, and felt like an utter disgrace to the title of royal guard. Whegg couldn’t meet any of their gazes as he clutched the scrap of paper tightly.
At last, he stood outside Gingivere’s rooms, well guarded. He gazed up at the fox by the doors. Whegg had always seen him as cocky, but he was seven feet of pure muscle. A female ferret was the other guard on duty… Garavel, Whegg could remember her name being.
“Um…” Whegg saluted. “I have a message fer his highness.”
Garavel nodded, and opened the door. She stepped inside, and Whegg heard her talking with another, presumably the prince himself. The fox guard glared down at Whegg, making him feel even smaller than he already did.
At last, Garavel opened the door and let Whegg come inside. “He will see you.”
Whegg walked inside, staring at the lavish rooms around him. He’d only been here several times before, and every time, he was astounded by how guilded and gold-coated everything was.
Prince Gingivere sat at his writing desk, quill moving quickly along the paper spread out before him.
What would it be like, Whegg wondered, to write so quickly? They’d tried to teach him in the academy, but it was his skill with the spear that had earned him this position, not his ability with words. They blended together strangely whenever he tried to read them, withholding their secrets from his eyes.
“Soldier?”
Whegg blinked, looking up at his prince. He was a young cat, but even young cats dwarfed the normal creature. Gingivere looked mildly curious as he dipped his quill in ink and left it there, focusing on Whegg instead.
Whegg bowed low, before holding out his parchment. “I was told ta give this ta ya, sire.”
Gingivere took it, unfolding it and smoothing it out on his desk. Whegg straightened up, growing nervous. Would he lose his job? What then, would he become a city guard? Would they send him to the outer reaches with the rest of the outcast soldiers where the ghosts of the ancient woods killed who they liked?
But no, that was only for law breakers. Those who stole, or killed without warrant, or took advantage of common folk.
Whegg gulped. Did kissing a girl when she was unwilling count as taking advantage of common folk?
Please… I don’t wanna be ghost food!
“How did this happen?” The prince pointed at Whegg’s bandaged head, finally looking up from the parchment.
Whegg looked down. “An accident while drinkin’ last night, me prince. It was foolish. I’m ashamed ta bring this before ya.”
Gingivere raised an eyebrow, before asking, “Were you attacked? If so, I will see your assaulter is punished.”
Whegg thought of the little bargirl, and what he had done to her. He quickly shook his head. “I fell from my stool, your highness. It was purely me own fault.”
Perhaps it was a trick of the light, perhaps it was Whegg’s imagination. But he could have sworn his normally impassive prince looked… amused, almost. At last Gingivere wrote something on Whegg’s parchment, and gave it back. “I have approved your days off duty by reason of injury.”
“I’m not… losin’ me job?” Whegg stammered, adding, “Sire.”
“No. You have a perfect record…” He paused, looking down at his papers. “Whegg Payne.”
Whegg knelt before the desk. “Thank ya sire!”
Gingivere smiled his flat, patronizing smile. “You are dismissed.”
Whegg stood, holding the parchment close. Then he hurried to the door. As he reached for it, the prince said, “Soldier?”
“Yes sire?” Whegg paused.
“Perhaps next time, do not drink in such excess as to completely lose your wits.” Gingivere picked up his pen again, leaning over his desk once more. “Just a piece of advice.”
Whegg nodded. “Yes sire.”
He hurried into the corridor, thanking fate that he served Prince Gingivere, not King Verdauga. The monarch might have had Whegg’s head.
Instead, Gingivere had actually been kind to him, if not impassive.
Whegg gave Garavel a friendly nod, and avoided eye contact with the sour fox. He hurried back to the barracks to lay down and get some much needed sleep.
In fact, he found himself forced to spend the first few days laying in his bunk in the barracks. If he moved around too much, the dizziness returned with vengeance. He managed to drag himself down to the mess hall for meals, then back to his bed.
Duane was nice enough to make sure Whegg was supplied with water. The price in return was questions about if he’d kissed any phantom barmaids lately. 
Every time, Whegg just mumbled noncommittally and felt like shrinking down from embarrassment. And every time, just as Whegg had expected, Duane laughed. But he supposed he should get used to that. He couldn’t go kiss the bargirl now. 
In fact, he owed her an apology. 
Drunk soldiers probably harassed her a lot. Of course she’d punched him, she was fed up with it. The least he could do was prove he was better than the scumbags that Princess Tsarmina called guards. 
He was a guard of Prince Gingivere. He was supposed to be better. 
By the fifth day of rest, Whegg’s headache was gone, and his surroundings no longer swam when he stood. He’d also made his choice. 
He needed to apologize to the bargirl. She probably wouldn’t accept it. She’d probably still be angry with him. But he needed to try. For her sake, and for the sake of his own crushing guilt. He’d tried to forget it. Tried to promise himself he’d just stay far, far away from the tavern she worked at.
But his annoying sense of nobility won out in the end. Apologize he would.
On the morning of the sixth day since the incident, Whegg saddled his pony and left the castle walls. No one should be at the bar so early.
In fact, the city of Kotir was mostly quiet… just a few farmers or merchants setting up their stalls in the marketplaces. The tavern was a short ride from the castle, down the large hill his master’s fortress sat upon and down a few streets. In the daylight, it looked shabbier than Whegg had remembered it being.
Had he remembered other things improperly as well?
No. The girl had to be real.
Whegg swung down from his pony’s back, and slung its reigns over a slightly slanted hitching post. Then he walked up to the tavern door, only to find it wouldn’t open. He shouldn’t find that too strange, since this was probably far outside their usual hours of business.
He knocked firmly, hearing the sound echo through the building.
Maybe this was stupid idea. The tavern could be empty for all he knew, it being too early for any of the girls to be in. And what good was an apology if it came six days late? Maybe he shouldn’t even try.
Just as he was about to dejectedly ride home to the castle; as he stepped down onto the rough wooden porch steps, he heard the grinding of a rusty chain being drawn.
Whegg spun around as the door opened slightly. Then it swung open farther. A tall ermine lady stood there, dark tavern at her back. Her long hair was disheveled, her blue makeup smudging under and above her eyes. 
She blinked blearly at him, before rubbing a paw down her face and only smearing her makeup even more. “Beggin’ yer pardon milord, but isn’t it a bit early fer an inspection? Yer welcome a course, but… why the surprise visit?”
Whegg just blinked up at her, and she seemed to take a better look at him. “Wait… aren’t ya a little young ta be overseein’ this place? Did somethin’ happen ta Raker?”
“Uh… I… um…” Whegg found that for some reason, words failed him. “I’m not here about inspections.”
“Oh?” The lady leaned against the doorframe. “Why is a guard a his highness here so early in the mornin’? I ain’t tryin’ ta refuse ya milord, but I’m not actually allowed ta serve nobody til four past high noon.”
Whegg swallowed a little. He was always more sociable after downing a drink or two… though perhaps he was too sociable then, considering why he was here in the first place.
“There’s a girl here, ain’t there? She’s got black hair and nice gold fur. Somebody like that works here, right?”
The lady’s face fell the instant the words had left his mouth. Whegg wondered if he’d done another thing wrong. The ermine stood up straight again, asking hesitantly, “Why, milord?”
“She… I…” Whegg stammered.
Pull yourself together!
“Um, I kissed her, and she knocked me out cold. ‘Bout six days ago. I didn’t mean no harm, an’ I’d just like ta talk with her ‘bout it, if that’s possible.” Whegg clasped his paws behind his back.
The lady stared at him, fear building in her sapphire eyes. Finally she pushed it away, flashing him a confident smile. “Oh, Gina’s just no fun, ain’t she? She’s new, please fergive her… attitude, I swear it’ll never happen again milord. Tell ya what. How ‘bout I just make this up ta ya, alright? I’ll give ya a good time.”
Whegg took a slow step back, wondering if she meant what he thought she might. “Uh… no thanks. I’d just like ta talk ta the girl… Gina. Can ya tell me what time she comes in?”
“Milord….” The ermine looked confused. “Comes in? We live here. But please. Just ignore Gina’s sourness. I’m terrible sorry she hit ya, but please don’t punish her… I can make it worth yer while, an’ yer drinks’ll be free fer a month.”
Free drinks? For a month? The first part of her offer might not specifically appeal to him, but that did. No. No he couldn’t. He’d done nothing to deserve it, in fact, he deserved the opposite.
“No, I just want to talk to… Gina. That’s all.” Whegg put a firmer tone in his voice. 
Whegg hadn’t thought the ermine could get any whiter, but he was pretty sure she did. At last she bit her lip, before motioning that he come inside. She shut the door behind him, slowly turning away, a sorrow in her eyes that Whegg didn’t understand. “Wait here, milord. I’ll get her.”
The ermine lady walked across the empty seating area, and disappeared into the back. As she did, Whegg heard the faint bark of “Gina!”
What was with this place? Rupert had suggested it, but honestly, Whegg had never heard of it before the older guard. Something about it wasn’t right. Why had the ermine lady resisted him so fiercely? He just wanted to talk.
Whegg could hear a clamour of voices from the tavern’s back, ones he couldn’t quite make out. Curiously, he slipped closer to the bar, and stopped in his tracks at a cry of, “I won’t!”
“You will!” 
That was the ermine lady, and she sounded upset on several different levels. “I donno what possessed ya ta hit that boy, but ya did, an’ now he wants ya.”
“I don’t want ta!” The voice was younger and higher than the ermine lady, and Whegg assumed it was the tiny rat called Gina. Her voice honestly sounded like she was crying. “I can’t, I won’t… I don’t belong here!”
“Gina!” The ermine lady hissed. “I tried, ok? I tried offerin’ him meself, but he don’t want me. I can’t tell him no!”
“I...I don’t belong here.”
Whegg felt something in his chest tighten at Gina’s pitiful little whimper. A broken, despairing sound that held nothing but pain. What… had he walked into?
“No, ya don’t sweetie. I’ll give ya that.” The ermine lady’s voice dropped low enough Whegg couldn’t quite hear her, even though she said more. Finally, her words grew loud enough to understand, with, “Just be nice ta him, ok? He’s a royal guard. The Prince’s guard, I kin tell by his uniform. Give him what he wants. And by Hellgates, ya better apologize. Now get out there, ya got it?”
In the silence that followed, Whegg felt his apprehension rise. Gina had sounded so… sad. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to have this conversation, but his actions must have hurt her far more than he ever imagined. She deserved this at the very least.
A little scuffle made him look up.
She stood at the end of the bar, just as tiny as he’d remembered. Her head hung forward, and she gripped her left arm tightly with her right paw.
Her rail-thin frame trembled slightly as she whispered, “I… I’m sorry milord.”
Whegg didn’t know what to say. At last he took a step toward her, stopping when she flinched. He rubbed the back of his head, suddenly feeling very awkward. “Er… actually, that’s what I came ta do. Apologize, that is. I came ta apologize. I shouldn’t a just kissed ya. I should’a asked if it was ok. So… I’m sorry.”
He glanced back at Gina, starting when he saw she stared blankly up him. Her eyes were so… empty.
“Wh… what?” Her shaky voice quivered even more.
“I’m sorry.” Whegg repeated. “I’d never tried that before. I never meant ta hurt ya, I just thought ya was purty, that’s all. An’ I donno why I didn’t ask. It… was dumb.”
Gina just stared up at him, shock stamped across her features. She started rubbing her left arm, though she never looked away. Whegg was almost certain he could see tears in her eyes. He really hoped she wouldn’t start crying.
He gulped, asking, “Er… can I make it up ta ya somehow? Buy ya a drink or… somethin’? I dunno, what’da ya like?”
Slowly, Gina stopped her fidgeting. She just gazed up at him with those strange, slanted brown eyes of hers, and finally asked carefully, “Why? What do ya…”
Here she looked down, before murmuring, “What do ya really want, milord?”
“I want ta stop feelin’ guilty over this.” Whegg admitted. “I was tipsy an’ I made a fool a meself. An’ clearly, I hurt ya in the process. That weren’t what I wanted. I want ta do somethin’ ta make it up ta ya, an’ if ya want me ta leave, I’ll do that too.”
“I…” Gina looked completely lost. “I… make it up to me?”
Whegg grimaced. Was she so unused to someone caring about how she felt? That made him feel even worse. 
She bowed her head, gripping her arm again. “Yes milord.”
Whegg blinked. He’d honestly expected her to tell him to leave and never bother her again. Instead she’d agreed to let him come back?
“Uh… ya mean I can actually see ya again?”
Gina didn’t look up, she just nodded. At last she whispered, “Of course, milord.”
Something was off. Her words didn’t match her tone, they didn’t match the fear in her eyes. But what could he do? He owed her this much. Whegg asked, “Are ya… sure? Ya don’t seem like ya really want too.”
Fear flashed in her eyes and she straightened up, shaking her head so her short black hair whipped around her face. “No… no ya is free ta come back. Ya is free ta… see me again. A course, milord.”
Was ‘milord’ how commoners typically addressed guards? Whegg wasn’t sure. He spent most of his time guarding doors in the castle. Maybe that was a title ascribed to royal guards? It seemed a bit too reverent for him.
“Uh. Alright then.” Whegg glanced at the door leading out. He’d left his pony alone for awhile, hadn’t he? He gave Gina the friendliest smile he could manage. “I’ll… come see ya soon then. Maybe then I can make a more… formal an’ convincin’ apology. An’ again… I’m real sorry. I hope maybe… wull, maybe one day, ya can fergive me.”
She just nodded. That was all. 
At last, Whegg coughed, and said, “I… uh… should be gettin’ back. An’ I’ll get out’a yer hair.”
With that, he hurried to the door. He slipped from the tavern and shut its old entrance behind him, breathing quickly. 
That had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do.
And why did she have to be so pretty? That made it all the more hard to find the right words.
Whegg untied his waiting pony, mounted with a jingle, and swiftly retreated. 
== Chapter 2 Of Fair Maidens ==
Over the next few days, Whegg seriously considered not going back. It was so… stressful. 
But he simply could not get Gina out of his mind. 
He went about his duties as they resumed, but the thought of her was always there, tickling at his mind, whispering in his thoughts. Not a few times, he found himself daydreaming of her and wanted to kick himself. No, he didn’t have that right.
But his desire to see her again quickly began to overshadow his fear.
Just three days after their last meeting, Whegg pulled his pony to a halt outside the tavern, feeling nervous. Gina had said he could come back, she’d said it was fine. She had seemed scared of him, though. 
I’m going to fix that tonight.
Whegg promised himself that tonight, he would cheer her up. She’d seemed so sad, and he found that he wanted to make her happy. He wanted to see her smile. 
He must be growing up. He’d never felt this way about a girl before, though his father had always told him that one day it would happen. Whegg realized he’d been sitting outside of the tavern for… probably too long when a couple older soldiers walked past him, and to the door. One snickered at him. “Little young fer this place, ain’t ya kit?”
His companion shoved him. “Hey, kit knows how ta have fun. Nothin’s wrong with that.” 
They didn’t wait for a response, just walked inside, leaving Whegg confused and uneasy. He disliked to consider what they meant by what they said. Was this a brothel? No, it couldn’t be. Gina was far too young, probably younger than him.
Whegg dismounted, clutching the strap of his satchel. He tied his pony to a hitching post outside, and walked into the tavern. 
It was uncomfortably warm and smelled of heavy drink and what was probably vomit. Whegg mentally gagged. Maybe he could take Gina out of this nasty place for a night. They could go to a better tavern. 
He looked around for Gina, but didn’t see her. He did however, see the ermine lady, Stella. Whegg walked over to her, and she saw him coming. Her face lit up. “Milord! T’s good ta see ya again, lemme get yer girl.”
She paused, asking, “That is what ya want, right?”
“Uh, I want ta talk ta her.” Whegg feared the ermine had the wrong idea. 
“Right.” She winked. “Be patient with her, please? She’s… shy.”
Shy and adorable. 
Whegg just nodded, but the ermine lady had already turned on her heel and vanished into the back in seconds. 
Moments later, Gina herself slipped around the counter. She wore the same pink outfit she had the last time he’d seen her, and she held her left arm, looking shyly at the floor. Suddenly, Whegg found his mouth was dry. He couldn’t move, he didn’t know what to say. 
“Uh.” He said, feeling exceptionally awkward. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She said in return, still gazing at the floor. 
Whegg cursed his addled brain. He was going to be charming! He was going to sweep her off her paws and give her the best night ever, and it was going to be perfect!
At least, that had been his plan. Now, looking at her, his mind refused to work and all it could do was replay his grand plans. Plans that were starting to feel a little stupid.
“Uh, I… how are ya?”
So stupid! Charming! Say something charming, you sodden idiot!
Gina looked up, and to his astonishment, Whegg saw she looked hopeful, perhaps interested. “Ya care?”
Whegg blinked. That wasn’t really the reaction he’d anticipated. “Wull, a course.”
He shrugged. “Why else would I be here, if’n I didn’t care?”
This seemed to make sense to Gina, or at least, she nodded. Sudden steps made Whegg look up and Stella walked over in that swaying gait of hers. She grinned at them both, then winked at Whegg. “See? Shy. Ya two should find somewhere a little more private, that’d loosen ya up.”
Gina blushed, and Whegg asked, “A table?”
Then what Stella really meant registered in his mind, and Whegg felt as dim-witted as he felt embarrassed. And he felt very embarrassed. 
Stella threw back her head and laughed. “If that’s what ya want, milord.”
“It is.” Whegg insisted. 
The relief on Gina’s face was staggering, and something deep down in Whegg felt disappointed. Maybe she just didn’t like him. But of course, why would she?
“I’d like to talk at a table.” Gina said it quickly, though she ducked her head almost instantly afterward.
“Well.” Whegg said, shooting a bemused Stella a glance. He awkwardly offered Gina his arm. “Let’s go sit down, then.”
Gina just gazed at him, confused. She carefully reached out and laid one of her oddly furry paws on his arm. Stella had one eyebrow raised, and she was smirking at him, like she could see right through him. Maybe she could.
Whegg hurried away. Gina followed him in silence. She was so stiff, too stiff. Whegg took a deep breath. This… would work. Yes it would. 
Whegg pulled a chair out from a table, and Gina blinked at him. Finally, she sat. 
Whegg sat in the chair across from her, and folded his paws. He didn’t know what to say. Gina looked down at the table, and at last, lifted her head slightly. Her wavy black hair draped across one of her brown eyes, and she slipped it behind her ear.
Hellgates, how could she be so pretty?
Whegg coughed into his paw. “Um. Well. What would ya like ta talk about?”
She glanced down, and then up at him. “Whatever ya’d like ta talk about, milord.”
“Milord?” Whegg asked. Suddenly it occurred to him that he’d never mentioned his name. He felt his cheeks flush. “Uh, sorry. My name is Whegg.”
“I can call ya that, milord?” She seemed perplexed. 
“Please?” Whegg said hesitantly. 
Gina slowly nodded, saying, “Yes milord… I mean Whegg, sir.”
“Just Whegg.”
She nodded again. “Whegg.”
Then she smiled. Whegg did too. Her smile was weak and watery, but it was beautiful, and in Whegg’s mind, it faded far too soon. 
She took a deep breath. “Well… do ya wanna tell me ‘bout yerself?”
Whegg blinked, and then nodded. Of course she would want to know about the random soldier that was showing interest in her.
“Well, I serve in Prince Gingivere’s guard. An’... wull, that’s about it, really.” 
Whegg paused, suddenly feeling rather sad. Suddenly, he felt a little unaccomplished. He’d trained day in and day out since he’d left home, he’d not even stepped paw outside the academy until he’d been assigned to the Prince.
Gina’s amazed voice broke through his thoughts. “Yer the prince’s guard? Like for real, ya guard the prince himself?”
She sounded amazed. Whegg shrugged. “Yeah.”
“But yer a…” She paused, and quickly looked down.
Whegg smirked. “A rat, I know. It’s real rare, but it ain’t an impossibility. I was top a me class afore I got assigned. Trust me, it took everythin’ I had ta get this high a position. Which is why I don’t really got many other life accomplishments.”
Gina leaned forward slightly. “But that’s an amazin’ accomplishment ta have, an ya ain’t all that much older’n me!”
“I am one a the youngest. They don’t assign the Prince anyone under fourteen.”
“Yer fourteen?” Gina asked, cocking her head.
“Uh.” Whegg shook his head. “Fifteen, actually. Just turned.”
Gina smiled shyly again. “I’m thirteen.”
Whegg wasn’t that surprised. That explained why she was so short. “Fergive me, but how did ya end up workin’ here? No offence, but… ain’t ya a little young?”
She just blinked. At last she said, “I… wull… me dad he… needed money. An’ didn’t want me ‘round no more.”
Whegg felt bad. Gina’s ears were drooping now, and she stared at her paws, folded on the table in front of her. “Er, sorry. I shouldn’t a asked.”
She glanced at him, and then rubbed at her eyes. “I asked about ya.”
That was true. Whegg supposed they were even. But he wanted to cheer her up, her eyes looked wet. Whegg felt a moment of panic at the thought that Gina might start crying. What would he do? No, he couldn’t let that happen.
“Hey, never mind.” Whegg said. “What do ya like ta do? Maybe talkin’ histories an’ stuff ain’t the best conversation starter.”
Gina stared at him. “What… do I like to do?”
She seemed confused. At last she shook her head, looking lost. “I don’t really know. I liked doin’ me hair purty….”
She paused, brushing her paw across her cropped hair. Then she sighed. “When I had it. But I’m sure ya ain’t interested in hair.”
Whegg blinked. “Wull… actually, I like cuttin’ me own. I give some’a the other guard’s hair cuts when they want me ta… I guess I have a knack fer it.”
“Really?” Gina’s ears pricked up.
“Yeah.” Whegg said. Never in his life had he dreamed that his weird hobby would ever bring him closer to a girl. Wasn’t that the sort of thing that would make him less charming?
He looked at Gina’s hair, shorn off between her shoulders and chin. “Ya know, ya could still braid the sides, if’n ya wanted. It’s not too short, an’ it’d help keep it outa yer eyes.”
Gina blinked at him, again touching her black hair. Whegg added, “Er, not that ya don’t look lovely as ya is.”
“I … never thought a that.” She looked mildly excited. “I want ta try.”
“Now?” Whegg asked. While he was no expert, he was certain this was not playing out like a normal date.
Gina shrank back into herself instantly. “Sorry. No, yer right. I’ll wait.”
Whegg mentally kicked himself. Just when she was showing interest too. “Uh, ya can do it now, that’s fine.”
“No, I’d look silly, doin’ me hair out here.” She looked down again. “But thank ya fer suggestin’ it. I will try, just later.”
“Ok.” Whegg said. He still felt like he’d ruined the moment. He glanced around the tavern, and noticed two guards playing dice. An inspiration came to him. “Gina?”
She looked up. “Yes?”
“Do ya like cards? I think I have a deck, an’ we could play.”
Again, she looked like he’d told her some shocking piece of information. Moments later, that morphed into interest. Then it faded, and she ducked her head. “Um… I’ve never played card games.”
Whegg frowned. This wasn’t easy. A part of Whegg wanted to go back to the barracks and lament his horrible skills with females. But then he saw Gina glance up at him from the corner of her eye. It wasn’t a coy look, at least, it seemed too fearful. But it was almost… hopeful.
Whegg perked his ears forward. “I could teach ya.”
At this, Gina straightened up again, and she smiled. “Ya’d do that?”
“Sure.” Whegg dug in his satchel, praying to the heavens that his battered deck of cards was there. It was.
He pulled it out, laying the scuffed and creased things on the table. “They’ve seen better days, but they’ll do.”
I should get some more.
But Gina did not seem phased, in fact, she almost looked… excited? She was actually smiling again. Whegg grinned too, and quickly began showing her how to play Twenty-five, a simple counting game. She wasn’t very good, but she seemed deeply invested in learning, especially the counting bit. 
Whegg was forced to explain that after ten, numbers simply repeated themselves, just fancy-like with a one in front of them to prove they were bigger and more important than the numbers before them. He saw the exact moment she understood. 
Her eyes lit up, and a grin bigger than he’d ever seen her use spread across her face. Whegg blinked. He had not known a girl could be so interested in numbers… well, if they weren’t one of his fellow guards. But then, Whegg was finding he knew very little about females.
He’d known that. But this repeatedly shoved that fact in his face.
Maybe Gina should have gone to the academy. 
She suddenly leaned over the table, and laid a card down on his stack, her stubby little fangs visible as she exclaimed, “I win! I win don’t I, I made twenty-five.”
Whegg leaned foreward, and she instantly shrank back, suddenly looking afraid. Her beautiful smile vanished, and she hunkered down in her chair, whispering, “I… I’m sorry milord. I didn’t think, I shouldn’t a won. Please…”
Whegg held up his paws, asking, “What? Ya shouldn’t a won? If’n ya won, ya won.”
He gazed down at his cards, and grinned. “An’ yeah, ya won fair’n square. What, did ya think I’d be mad?”
He looked up at her. “This is great, it means yer learnin’.”
She slowly sat upright again, and the fear faded from her eyes. Hellgates, but she was jumpy. He collected the cards so they could play again, asking, “Ya really didn’t know how ta count past ten before tanight? Ya learn real fast.”
“Is… that a bad thing?” She glanced down at the floor, hair spilling into her face.
Whegg was momentarily distracted by how cute she was when she did things like that. Then he shook himself. “What? Hardly, it’s a great thing! Yer way smarter’n half the idiots I trained with. Have ya ever considered joinin’ the military?”
Gina gaped at him, glanced around, then raise a furry little paw to her chest. “Milord… surely ya say that in mockery?”
Quickly, Whegg shook his head. “Er… no, sorry. I just thought… ya might like bein’ able ta go ta school. Cause I get it, usually that’s just fer rich folk. But if’n ya join up fer ten years, ya get an education, an’ then ya can do what ya like fer the rest of yer life.”
From the look of shock on her face, Whegg assumed he’d lost her at some point during his explanation. He looked down. “But no, I ain’t mockin’ ya. I just think ya’d like bein’ able ta learn figures and stuff.”
Hesitantly, carefully, she asked, “Do they teach ya ta read?”
“Oh yes.” Whegg nodded, remembering his morose classes; the many hours he’d spent stumbling over the simplest of words. “I never was much good at readin’. Odd how patterns on a page say somethin’ ta normal creatures… but I never did get the hang a it.”
“Ah.” Gina looked disappointed, but nodded understandingly. “It must be hard, I’m sure.”
“Ya’d probably pick it right up.” Whegg winked at her. Hellgates, he actually winked at her. He hadn’t meant to, but he did.
She didn’t look appalled or disgusted though, so that was… probably a good thing?
Gina just shook her head, shyly saying, “Oh, I wouldn’t be no better’n ya a course, milord.”
Whegg wasn’t so sure. It was not hard to surpass his reading skills. But before he could say anything, Gina leaned forward, clasping her paws together. “Can we play ‘gain?”
“Oh, sure!” Whegg realized he had yet to deal out the cards, and quickly did so.
They played another game, and another, and another. As the night wore on, Gina stopped flinching at his every movement… finally. It had been so bad at first she’d been making him nervous.
But when she played, she was completely invested. Her brown eyes shone whenever she won, and grew thoughtful and contemplative whenever she didn’t. Whegg wasn’t sure which expression of hers he liked more. And really, how could he choose? Every movement she made entranced him more than the last, and Whegg knew he would come see her again. And again. Next time he would would bring a deck of cards just for her, since she seemed to like his old ones so much.
He’d planned to bring her flowers if tonight went well, because girls were supposed to like those. But the cards felt far more personal. It proved he knew something about her, and had cared enough to remember.
Or Hellgates, why choose? He’d bring her both. 
Yes. Perhaps he still had a chance to be charming after all.
I can do this.
“Yer turn, milord.”
Whegg quickly pulled himself back to reality. He played a card, not a very good one, but he wanted to see her grin, wanted to see that victory flash in her eyes. And anyway, he’d won last round. Gina saw the opening and took it.
Whegg found he liked seeing her triumphant far more than actually winning. 
“Hey.” Whegg said. “Do ya wanna get out’a here? Go ta a nicer tavern?”
She stared blankly at him. Whegg felt self-conscious. “Er… are ya still workin’ yer shift?”
She just blinked at him, and nodded.
“Oh.” Whegg said, disappointed. He’d have to try another time. Or maybe she just wasn’t comfortable going off alone with him. He couldn’t really blame her for that.
She shyly pointed at the cards, asking, “Can we… sorry, it’s just fun.”
Whegg dutifully shuffled and dealt the cards, saying, “Ok, but why don’t I teach ya a harder game. I think ya’d like it.”
He made a mental note to never teach Gina how to gamble, for fear of losing every coin he had. He would not be able to take money from her. He knew it. And her smile would convince him to let her win every time.
The tavern grew noisy around them, but Whegg didn’t notice it. He couldn’t notice it. It just didn’t seem to matter how drunk the other patrons got… wait, he hadn’t had a single drink tonight… or food.
“Hey… Gina, I can get us some dinner. Cause… ya haven’t eaten, have ya?”
She hopped up before he could protest, saying, “Oh! Right milord, I’m so stupid, I forgot. I’ll get ya somethin’, what would ya like?”
“Er…” Whegg wasn’t sure what to think. “Wull… yer fish is good round here, as I recall. But… I wanna eat with ya, like, tagether, if that’s alright?”
He wouldn’t be able to eat while she didn’t. It wouldn’t feel ok, especially not with how thin she was. Maybe some would find that attractive, but Whegg wished she looked healthier… he knew what a female soldier should look like, and Gina was so thin he feared she might fall over in a stiff breeze.
She was blinking at him again. “If… that’s what ya want, milord.”
“It is.” Whegg said, firmly.
Gina curtsied. “Then I’ll be right back.”
Whegg would have protested, but she’d disappeared into the back before he could. He gathered up the cards, shuffled them, and settled back to wait. Now that Gina wasn’t here, absorbing his attention with her every movement, he bothered to take note of the tavern around him.
Without a drop of ale in his blood to dull his senses, he found himself growing repulsed by some of the activity on the outskirts of the more well-lit parts of the scenery. 
This place was far too seedy for Gina to be working here. Whegg found himself wondering if he could maybe find her a better job, at a better tavern. Stella seemed the type to work in this place, but Gina? She was too shy. Not that Whegg was complaining about that.
She returned presently, holding a tray of food. “Stella says this is fer us.”
Whegg noticed her thin arms shaking slightly as she set the heavy tray on the table. Gina sat back down in her chair, and Whegg blinked at how much food she’d brought. Gina was talking again. “And Stella says I kin eat with ya. So I will… if ya still want me too.”
“Of course!”
How was she so hesitant about everything? It was almost like she expected him to punish her for every little thing.
Yes, she really should get to work at a nicer tavern, somewhere she didn’t have to be scared constantly.
He dug into some fish, and Gina started eating too. She broke off half a biscuit and nibbled on it. No wonder she was so scrawny.
“Here.” Whegg speared a piece of fish on his knife, and held it out. “Ya should try this.”
Carefully, she took the knife from him, and again, ate with dainty little bites.
Hellgates was he so smitten that he thought the way she ate was adorable? Yes. He realized. Yes he was. What was wrong with him?
“Hey… so… I was thinkin’...” Whegg paused. “Can I come see ya again? Maybe in a couple nights… cause thats the next day I’ll have off work.”
She blinked at him, and then she smiled. She actually smiled. Shy, yes. Fearful… possibly. But she nodded. “I think… I’d like that.”
Whegg found himself grinning wider than he probably should. He nodded eagerly. What else could he do? Words were failing him, like they’d done so often tonight. When he reluctantly said goodbye to Gina hours later, he waited until he’d mounted his pony and ridden onto the empty stretch of road between city and castle to let out his whoop of exuberant victory. 
His pony spooked and nearly threw him. 
Whegg got the animal back under control, and rode to the castle. It was only after he led his mount into the stable and was rubbing him down, that Whegg realized he’d completely forgotten about drinking.
He’d gone to a tavern, and he hadn’t drank. 
If Duane heard about this, there would be no end of teasing. 
Whegg fed his pony, and freshened the water. Then he headed back to the barracks, making certain to take conspicuously unsteady steps. No one said a word as he flopped onto his bunk, pretending to pass out, not even Duane. 
In the darkness, Whegg grinned so wide it hurt. 
He knew he’d count the days until he could see Gina again.
== Chapter 3 Infatuated ==
(UTC)“Wheggy’s in love!”
Whegg did his best to ignore Duane’s mockery. In fact, he’d tried to hide the fact he was seeing a girl at all. But when Duane found the brand new deck of cards and Whegg had snatched it from his friend, Duane had prodded until the truth came out. 
Whegg scowled, tucking the cards into his belt pouch. Duane scoffed. “Ya don’t give girls cards, Whegg.”
“She likes ‘em.” Whegg said, defensively. “An’ she don’t have none. So I’m gonna give her a set. It’s more… meanin’ful than flowers.”
Duane shook his head. “I never said flowers was what ya give maids. They like candy. Works every time.”
“An’ how much experience do ya have, Duane?” Whegg asked challengingly.
“More’n ya.” The ferret snickered. 
At that, Whegg conceded. It didn’t take much to know more about romance than him. “Huh. Maybe Gina’d like sweets.”
Duane grabbed his fluffy cheeks in his paws, saying, “Oooh already on nickname basis, are ya? What’s her full name?”
Whegg raised an eyebrow. “Uh… Gina?”
“Whegg that ain’t a name, it’s a pet name.” Duane said this as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. 
“I dunno what girl’s names is like!” Whegg protested. “All I know is Garavel, cause she trained with us.”
“She’s cute.” Duane remarked, getting sidetracked.
While he was, Whegg pointed to the door. “Look, I gotta get goin’.”
He shuffled toward it, and Duane called, “Buy ‘er toffee, they like that!”
Whegg waved his thanks, and hurried from the barracks. He’d spent the last two days pining, and he knew it. He’d often found himself thinking of Gina, while he should have been thinking about guard duty. But standing beside a door in an entirely empty hallway was morose to say the least. Now he had something to do besides count the stones in the hall across from him.
He knew he should focus on his job. He knew he shouldn’t be creepy. Or was it creepy? Whegg was pretty certain it was. 
But he couldn’t stop. 
His paws had far more spring to them than normal as he saddled his pony, mounted up, and rode away from the castle.
He did end up stopping at a stall in one of the bustling markets and buying a small cloth sack of buttermints. They were all sold out of toffee, unfortunately. Still, Whegg had always enjoyed the creamy mints when his mother had bought them for him when he was a kit.
That felt like an eternity ago. He wondered what his parents might think of Gina.
Whegg kept his pony moving towards the tavern, wanting to get there before drink began flowing too freely. It didn’t really matter what his parents would think. They were halfway across the empire, and it wasn’t as though he could write with any semblance of decency. Doing so would merely waste parchment. 
He tied his pony outside Gina’s tavern. This place didn’t have a name that he could see. Just a worn wooden sign with a rough etching of a tankard, beneath an eye symbol.
Whegg shrugged. He patted his mount’s nose and walked inside. 
Again, he was met with a blast of warm air. And again, he didn’t see Gina cleaning tables or serving drinks to the few patrons already here. He didn’t even see Stella, this time.
Only one maid stood at the bar, running a rag across the age-old stains on its surface. She didn’t look like any creature he’d ever seen. Her fur was brown, and she had the vague look of a weasel… but Whegg had served with enough weasels to know she wasn’t one. Her features were too thick, her frame equally so.
Though he found her exceptionally strange, Whegg walked to the counter. “Um. Sorry ta interupt.”
She looked up, though not quickly. She met his gaze with a lethargic blink, one full of apathy, and the odd creature did not speak. 
“I’m… here ta see Gina.” Whegg said, finding the bar-tenders empty stare unnerving. 
She simply nodded, and shuffled into the back. Moments later, Gina appeared.
She smiled when she saw him this time. Whegg felt his heart leap. She seemed to move with quicker movements than before as she walked around to the front of the counter. Her steps were more lively. 
Not too much, she still kept her head down. But it was an improvement. She must just be in a better mood today.
“Ya really did come back.” She said, voice soft. She peeked up at him from behind her still wild hair. 
“I told ya I would.” Whegg said. “I try’n keep me word.” 
He looked around, asking, “Are ya workin’ tanight?”
She cocked her head slightly, but simply nodded. Whegg sighed. He truly wished he could take her somewhere nicer. They wouldn’t even have to go to another tavern, he imagined that after this place, Gina was sick of taverns. He’d wanted to take her riding or too the market… but he supposed that could wait.
“Oh!” Whegg realized he’d gotten distracted. “I brought ya somethin’. Wull… actually two things.”
Gina blinked up at him, blank shock filling her eyes. “Ya… what?”
“Er.” Whegg was certain that wasn’t the normal response. Wasn’t it normal to buy a maid gifts when seeing her? “Yes?”
He glanced around, pointing to an empty table near the bar. “Ya wanna sit?”
She looked frightened now, but simply sat, and Whegg did too. Gina looked around, like she feared someone would overhear. “Ya… brought me somethin’?”
“That’s… what I said.” Said Whegg, now fearing he might have miscalculated the situation. He seemed prone to that. 
He pulled the deck of new cards out, holding it under the table and glancing at it. He suddenly felt very stupid. Duane was probably right. Girls probably wouldn’t like cards… why hadn’t he just got flowers? He was about to tuck them away again, when Gina leaned foreward.
She sounded interested, slightly afraid, but interested. “What… did ya get me?”
“I…” Whegg sighed and held out the deck. “I got ya these. Cause ya liked mine so well. Purty stupid, I guess.”
With trembling paws, she slowly took the deck, still tied up with a piece of twine. She stared at them for a moment, before her eyes watered, and she hugged the cards close. “They’re… really mine?”
“I… uh.” Whegg blinked. He hadn’t expected this reaction. “I mean, if ya want ‘em.”
“Yes!”
Whegg felt himself melt at her truly happy smile. She stroked the varnished pieces of parchment, murmuring, “Nobody’s ever given me anythin’ a’fore.”
Whegg stared. Never? Not even her parents? But then, he remembered, from what she’d said of her father, they had a poor relationship. But no male had showered her with gifts? Not one? She was so beautiful, Whegg found it hard to really believe.
But… then she was young, so maybe not. He quickly dug in his satchel, pulling out the candy. “I also got this. I donno if’n ya like mint or not, but I always thought they was good.”
Gina just stared at him. She held the deck of cards like she planned to never let go of it. But after a moment of silence, Whegg opened the bag and held one of the pale green drops out. “It’s ta eat. Have ya ever had one?”
Wordlessly, she shook her head. She took the little candy, sniffed it, then popped it in her mouth.
Her eyes got big, and she reached for another, pausing just before grabbing it. “Can I?”
“Wull, yeah. They’re for ya.” Whegg pushed the square of cloth across the table. 
Gina ate another, and another. Though she didn’t gobble them, she took her time with each one. Then she held one out for him. “Ya should have one too.”
Whegg took it, asking hesitantly, “Ya like ‘em?”
She nodded enthusiastically. 
Whegg grinned. She swallowed, saying, “I’ve never tasted nothin’ like that a’fore.”
“Yer mom never made treats?” Whegg asked it before thinking. He cringed, waiting for Gina to curl into herself again and grow sad. But she reacted far less than he thought she would.
Her smile faded for a moment, and then she shrugged. “I don’t remember me mother.”
Oh.
Whegg decided bringing up Gina’s family was probably a bad idea.
“So, how’ve ya been?” He stumbled to find anything to change the subject from her past. She didn’t seem to have a kind one.
She cocked her head… lords above, she was cute when she did that. But she looked baffled. “I… donno. I’ve been here, I guess.”
Again, Whegg felt stupid. “Oh. Ya work a lot?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Wull… yeah. Mostly washin’ the dishes in the back though. Which I’m just fine with.”
She paused, hurriedly saying, “But… a course I like seein’ ya milord.”
There was fear underlaid in that assurance, and it also seemed true. Whegg found himself confused by her, but in a way that made him want to know more. Was that intrigue? Probably.
“Do ya… ever have time off?” Whegg asked.
“Uh.” She blinked at him. “Milord, do ya…”
She paused, then ducked her head. “Sorry. A course ya do. Not… really? Though I get ta sleep a course.”
Whegg opened his mouth to ask what sort of job this was, when she suddenly seemed to remember something. “Oh! I tried braidin’ me hair like ya said. But I think it’s too short. It won’t braid right an’ just keeps slippin’ out.”
Gina looked down at this, ducking her head. “Sorry.”
“What for? Why’re ya always sorry?” Whegg asked. “That ain’t yer fault.”
“But… ya told me bout it… an’ I didn’t.” She sounded confused. “So… why ain’t ya mad?”
Whegg felt more baffled than ever. He rubbed his forehead, noticing as he did, that the tavern was filling up quickly. They sat at a small table tucked against the wall, on the outskirts of building chaos. 
Whegg turned back to Gina, who seemed genuinely confused about this. “Look… no. I ain’t mad ya didn’t take me suggestion. Hellgates, that’s yer hair, not mine. An’ it was just a suggestion. Ya know, advice. Optional.”
From the look in her eyes, Gina did not know. This seemed an oddly foriegn concept to her.
He was missing something. Whegg knew it. He hated when he was like this. 
Staring the obvious in the face and still not understanding. Something was wrong with Gina… no, this place. Why was she here? Apparently he was supposed to know already, but he didn’t.
“Milord?” She looked worried. “Did I say somethin’ wrong?”
“Gina…” Whegg glanced around, noting Stella was at the bar now. She leaned over it, grinning rather… meaningfully at one of the patrons. 
Whegg looked back to Gina, deciding he didn’t want to see more of that. “I feel like… I’m missin’ somethin’. I’m awful stupid at times, I’m made ta fight battles, not figure things out. So… what’s…”
She shook her head. He noticed she still clutched the deck of cards tightly. “Oh no milord. Ya ain’t stupid, a course not!”
It was as though she was desperate to make him believe that. 
Whegg leaned back in his chair, utterly confused and only feeling more of a fool. It wasn’t pleasant. “Look Gina this ain't… normal. I know that much. Yer younger’n me an if I didn’t know better…”
He paused, not knowing how to phrase what he needed to say.
It looks like ya work in a brothel.
Whegg might be stupid, but he knew telling a maid he thought she worked in a brothel would earn him another punch to the face, at least if he was wrong. And if he was right… well, Whegg didn’t want to be.
Gina gazed worriedly up at him, and he felt his insides melt a little more. She was so unique, he’d never seen anyone like her, and Whegg doubted he ever would again. He wanted to keep coming back to her, wanted to court her. He could even imagine kissing her for real, when they both had an understanding about it.
A paw grabbed Whegg’s arm, and he nearly jumped out of his fur. Gina shrank down, and Whegg turned to see Duane behind him.
Whegg hadn’t noticed the ferret come in, but then, he’d been occupied. 
Duane looked at Gina, and shook his head. “Aw Hellgates Whegg. I leave ya lone fer two seconds an’ this is what ya do?”
Gina curled into herself, once bright eyes dulling and ears drooping to the sides of her head. She stared at the floor, a quiet complacency filling her eyes that broke Whegg’s heart.
He shoved Duane off, standing up and glaring his friend down. “Hey! Quit it, I donno what’s goin’ on here, but ya’d better stop, yer upsettin’ Gina.”
“Hellgates Whegg!” Duane looked around, before grabbing Whegg’s shoulder and hissing in his ear. “We need ta talk. Outside.”
Duane dug in his satchel and tossed a silver coin on the table in front of Gina. “I’ll pay fer this idiot. He’s a country kit, he don’t know nothin’. I’m sure ya tried yer best.”
Whegg stared at Duane as the larger ferret grabbed his arm and began dragging him toward the door like Whegg’s mother used to do whenever he made a fool of himself. He stared back at Gina, noticing she didn’t take the money. She just tucked her knees against her chest, and buried her face in them.
==Chapter 4 Little Fool==
TBC~ Untamed We are wild 04:01, December 13, 2019 (UTC)
Category:Sayna's Stories