*****

  Chapter Fifteen

  *****

  Rivi’s heart fluttered as he carried a heavy photo album to the sofa. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, one of the many little voices that so often chided him was screaming at him not to do this. That to sit next to Argos was to invite temptation. And temptation was dangerous, both for his future, and for his very soul. But when the ever-so-handsome coyote already seated patted the cushion next to him, Rivi’s countless fears were washed away by the tide of happy excitement emanating from his heart.

  “I’ve never done this before,” Rivi said. Even his voice sounded embarrassingly fluttery. He sat down on the padded, green and gold floral patterned cushions, then reclined against the back of the sofa with thick scrapbook on his lap. “You’ll forgive me if I sound a little nervous.”

  Argos rested his arm over the back of the sofa. “You’ve never shared those books?”

  “No, I…” Rivi scrunched his muzzle. “Well, I haven’t, but that isn’t what I meant.” He looked away. “Nevermind, Argos. I don’t want to sound like an prude, or a fool.”

  “Nah, go ahead, Spots,” the coyote said. “I ain’t gonna judge you. What ain’t you done before?”

  “Sit with someone, like this.” Rivi glanced at Argos again, but found himself unable to meet the canine’s gaze for long. His eyes soon wandered the room. “Alongside another impure male, in private. It would be…” He waggled his fingers. “Terribly frowned upon, by some parties.”

  “And if I only liked females?” The coyote tilted his head. “They’d be okay with it, then?”

  “Well…” Rivi drummed his fingers on the cover of the photo album. “Given my previously brushes with purification, they’d probably still be uneasy about me being alone with someone from outside our Church.” He managed a little chuckle. “Albeit, less so, if you were well known for chasing after every female you set your eyes upon.”

  Argos grinned, his ears perked. “Who says I ain’t known that way in some places?”

  Rivi slowly turned his face back towards the coyote. “Are you?”

  “I may have a reputation, here and there.” The coyote leaned forward to pick up his whiskey glass from the table. “Granted, it ain’t always girls I’m chasing.”

  “Yes, I’ve noticed.” Rivi circled his fingers across the book cover. “I do occasionally pick up that you’ve been flirting with me, after all.”

  Argos sipped his whiskey, but held his other hand up as if to shield himself. “Only as long as you’re comfortable with it. I keep trying to tell you, if it bothers you, just lemme know. I don’t wanna do nothing you ain’t comfortable with, Spots.”

  “I appreciate that, sincerely.” Rivi leaned his head back against the sofa, staring up at the cream-colored ceiling. “It’s strange, actually. It does sometimes make me uncomfortable, and yet…” Rivi swished his tail against the sofa. “It’s a discomfort I find myself enjoying.”

  “I imagine it’s the first time you’ve been able to enjoy that sort of thing.” The coyote took another sip, then set his glass back down. “I know I sure as hell couldn’t have put my arm around you in public back in your homeland.”

  Rivi shook his head. “Not without arousing all sorts of suspicions.”

  A smirk parted the canine’s muzzle. “Anything else end up aroused earlier today?”

  The cheetah gasped, his eyes wide and ears raised. That was especially bold word play, even for Argos. “Certainly not!” He swatted the coyote’s knee, even as he struggled to fight back a happy, musical giggle. “At least nothing that I’ll admit to, in polite company.”

  “Ain’t nothing polite about me, Spots,” Argos said, scooting a little closer. “That was probably a bit much though. Sorry.”

  “It’s alright.” The cheetah glanced at the distance between them. It was smaller than ever, now. “I’m just not used to such bawdy jokes.”

  Argos looked down as well. “Am I too close? I’ll give you some space, if you want.”

  “Please don’t,” Rivi said, swallowing. His gaze wandered the room again, looking anywhere but at Argos. “I like it when you’re near me.”

  “Me too.” Argos’s tail wagged as if of its own accord, thumping against the back of the sofa. “I can get closer, if you prefer. Could even put my arm around you, again.”

  The cheetah cleared his throat. Again, the little voice in the back of his head screamed at him to resist temptation. To tell Argos to move further away, not closer. That this was courting behavior, and thus, absolutely forbidden amongst two males. But Rivi didn’t care. Rivi wanted Argos near him. Rivi had a taste now, of being held by another, and Rivi wanted more.

  “I…” Rivi’s voice trembled. His tail tip flicked in nervous excitement. His stomach bubbled. For the moment, he moved the photo album out of the way, and placed it upon the table. “I’d like that.”

  Argos scooted closer, until their bodies brushed. Rivi’s heart thundered as Argos draped his arm around Rivi’s shoulders, and gently pulled the cheetah against his warmth. Rivi melted inside, going half-limp against the coyote. He heaved a happy little sigh, his slender form trembling slightly, nearly overwhelmed by the simple, forbidden delight of taking comfort in another male’s embrace.

  “How’s that?” Argos said, stroking Rivi’s upper arm through his shirt.

  “Q-quite nice,” Rivi said, eyes half-lidded in contentment.

  “Good.” Argos smiled, his slender canine muzzle hovering perilously close to Rivi’s ears. “Let me know if you get uncomfortable, and I’ll give you space, okay?”

  “Okay.” Rivi nodded once. He turned his head to offer the coyote a grateful smile, and found their muzzles mere inches apart. Now, a new and less familiar voice popped up into the back of his mind. A voice that told him he could probably kiss Argos right now, and the coyote would almost certainly kiss him back. Rivi allowed himself to enjoy the thought for a heartbeat or two before swiftly pushing it aside. “Certainly not, Rivi. We’ve hardly known him long enough to…” He clamped his muzzle shut when he realized his thoughts were spilling across his tongue again. “S-sorry, Argos.”

  “Don’t be.” Argos gave him an affectionate squeeze. If the coyote knew what Rivi was talking about, he was kind enough not to bring it up. “You want me to keep my hand on your arm above your elbow, since you don’t have your gloves on?”

  Rivi forced himself to swallow, trying to moisten his suddenly dry throat. “That might be best.” He watched Argos’s tan-furred fingers gliding across his arm. The coyote’s simple affection was already more physical touch than he’d known for most of his adulthood. “You can probably touch the back of my hand, if you wanted. Just don’t touch my bare pads, alright?”

  The coyote nodded, his own hand drifting lower. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He smirked, a single ear perked up. “I’ll try not to arouse anything other than your suspicions.”

  Rivi erupted into wicked, musical giggles. “You’re so bad, Argos.”

  Argos bumped his muzzle into the side of Rivi’s neck. “You got no idea, Spots.”

  The cheetah shivered as the warmth of Argos’s breath infiltrated beneath his thin fur. “I suspect I have some idea.” Before he could stop himself, he tilted his head away from the coyote, giving him a little more room. “May I ask you a question I absolutely should not?”

  “Of course.” Argos rubbed his snout into Rivi’s neck, in the gentlest nuzzle Rivi could imagine.

  The intimacy of it left him Rivi tingling in ways he knew he shouldn’t. He shivered, and took a slow breath. “Are you genuinely interested in me?” He swallowed again, his whole body shuddering. “In that particular manner, I mean?”

  Argos slowly eased his head back to regard the cheetah. The sudden absence of his muzzle was almost disappointing. “You want the honest answer, or the Church-approved answer?”

  Rivi shifted himself, turning to look back at Argos. “Honest answer. It’s probably for the best that I hear it bluntly.”

  “Yes, Spots.” Argos removed his arm from the cheetah’s shoulders, and instead tenderly smoothed down the cheetah’s ears with both hands. “I’m extremely interested in you…” A lopsided smirk half-parted his muzzle. “In that manner.”

  The cheetah shivered again, leaning his head into Argos’s touch. “I…I wondered, but I wasn’t sure. I’m not used to being flirted with.”

  “Lemme put it this way, Mister Rivimiralous.” Argos cradled Rivi’s head between his hands. “If you were, say, a canine, from where I’m from? I’d probably have kissed you already. And that probably would have lead us to other things, too. But…” He smiled, lifting a hand. “I wanna be respectful of you, and your beliefs.”

  “Thank you, Argos.” Rivi pressed his spotted hand to his chest. “I appreciate that. I certainly don’t mind your interest. If anything, I find it…” He furrowed his brows, his ears splayed. “Exhilarating. Which, honestly terrifies me. May I ask you another question, about your courting habits?”

  Argos yapped coyote laughter. “That’s one way to put it, I guess. And of course you can. You ask me about anything that isn’t work-related.”

  Rivi nodded a few times. “You say if I were a canine, you’d have already…” Rivi couldn’t quite bring himself to say, ‘kissed me’. “Engaged in a more physical sort of affection.” He tilted his head. “Do you always jump into relationships so quickly? We’ve really only known one another a couple days.”

  Argos grunted, leaning back against the sofa. “They ain’t all relationships, Spots. Sometimes it’s just physical, it’s just fun with someone I click with. I’m probably gonna sound like some kind of hornball pervert, to your way of thinking, but…” Argos laughed to himself. “Yeah, sometimes I do jump into things that quickly. People like Iosa and me, we don’t even stay in one place for long. It’s pretty rare for me to stay in one location for more than a few months at most, let alone years. So, a deeper, longer-term relationship…” Argos set his jaws, looking away. For only a heartbeat, something deeply hurt drifted behind the coyote’s golden eyes. “Can be challenging.”

  “Painful.” Rivi reached out and set his hand atop Argos’s. The coyote’s fur was ever so warm against his pads. Rivi was careful to keep his palm pad and fingers against the back of Argos’s hand. “I think the word you were looking for was, painful.”

  A bittersweet smile twitched at the corner’s of Argos’s mouth. “You ain’t wrong, Spots. Iosa tends to worry about me gettin’ my heart broken. But, I don’t wanna break no one else’s heart, either.” Argos stared across the room, at the snow-strewn balcony beyond the floor to ceiling windows. “That’s why I tried to warn you, earlier. That whatever we seem to have going here, it can only last as long this voyage.”

  Rivi squeezed Argos’s hand, again careful not to let their pads touch. “I think I understand that warning a little better, now. So thank you for telling me. And for whatever it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a pervert just for making love with people you’ve only recently met. While The Church might frown on such behavior, it isn’t as if our people have never indulged in short-lived trysts. More importantly, your courting life is your own private business.”

  “My courting life, huh?” Argos turned his head back towards Rivi. He glanced down at the cheetah’s hand upon his, but didn’t say anything about. “Thanks, Spots. I appreciate the sentiment.”

  “You’re welcome.” Rivi patted Argos’s hand, then turned to recline against the coyote again. He leaned his head back, offering the coyote a playful smile. “So, I suppose were I also a coyote who was similarly open about my proclivities, we might have already jumped into bed together.”

  Argos yipped his amusement, his tail thumping against the sofa. “Certainly possible. Then again, if you were anything more like me, I probably wouldn’t have offered you space in my room. If I thought you’d have been safe down in steerage, none of this might have started.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” Rivi scowled, his tail swishing against the sofa. “Then we’d not have gotten to know each other, at all. Never thought my own naivety would work out in my favor.”

  “Life never leads us where we expect it to.” Argos put his arm around the cheetah again. “For the record, Spots. I don’t expect nothin’ to happen between us. You got your ways, and I got mine. I know you said you ‘appreciate’ my interest in you, but I don’t wanna make it sound like I got expectations.”

  The cheetah nodded, allowing himself the forbidden comfort of snuggling up against Argos’s warmth. “I appreciate that, as well. I don’t entirely know how to proceed, if I’m honest. There are a million voices in my head, and all of them are quite loudly arguing about whether or not I’ve already damned myself just by…” He looked them over, then mewled bittersweet feline laugh. “Well, I suppose I’m cuddling you, aren’t I.”

  “You are.” Argos rubbed Rivi’s shoulder. “If I were you, I’d tell those negative voices to fuck right off. If your divines created you, then they created you exactly as you are. It ain’t some impure taint you’re afflicted with. It ain’t some curse. It’s just who you are.” Argos grunted through grit teeth, his ears back. “That’s what I believe, anyway. But I ain’t gonna argue your beliefs with you. Just tell you I don’t agree.”

  Rivi smiled, reclining his head. His ear brushed Argos’s shoulder. “If only it were that easy.”

  “I know, Spots, I know.” Argos hugged the cheetah against him. “Not to offer further illicit temptation, but you can rest your head on my shoulder, if you want.”

  The cheetah swallowed, his heart thumping. Surely, such an act could not be any more impure or soul-tainting than what the were already doing together. “I’d like that.”

  Rivi slowly rested his head against Argos’s shoulder. Something about that simple, comfortable act left everything inside him melting into warm contentment all over again. He sighed, a happy, satisfied sound. Argos rubbed his arm with gentle motions, and all the angry voices in his head gradually quieted. In their silence, Rivi could almost tell himself that this was okay. That this was acceptable. That it wasn’t sinful.

  Almost.

  “This is nice,” Rivi said, his voice a breathless murmur. “I’ve never done this, before.”

  “I kinda gathered that, Spots.” Argos chuckled, offering the cheetah a gentle squeeze. “I get the feeling you ain’t had near the affection you deserve, in your life.”

  Rivi flicked his ears back. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it. When I was little, I got plenty of it from my mother, but…” He blinked, scowling. “I suppose that’s different. I haven’t really had a…” The feline trailed off, not exactly sure what the appropriate word would be. “Significant other, before.”

  Argos made a little discontented murmuring noise. “I figured. You weren’t exactly free to have a boyfriend, back home.”

  “No.” Rivi shook his head against Argos’s shoulder. “I don’t believe that anyone has ever really desired me, anyway.”

  “I find that impossible to believe.” Argos reached over to stroke Rivi’s ears with his free hand. “What about that lion bartender you mentioned?”

  A smile parted Rivi’s muzzle. “He was probably just angling for a larger tip.” Rivi scrunched his nose. “Although, I will admit it is possible that others have attempted to express an interest in me, and I simply haven’t noticed. I think when most people look at me, they only see awkwardness and intellectualism. And then I open my muzzle, and they add weirdness and oddity to the list.” He swallowed again, turning his face away from the coyote. “And no one wants to be with the weird, awkward, bespectacled scholar who talks himself the way we do, Rivi.”

  Argos crooked a single finger under the cheetah’s muzzle, guiding him to look at the coyote again. “I do. But only if Rivi’s ever comfortable with that.”

  Rivi chittered shy laughter, pressing his face to Argos’s shoulder. “Rivi…might be, someday. Thank you, though.”

  “Of course, Spots.” Argos ran a hand over Rivi’s ears, then combed his fingers through the fur of the cheetah’s neck. “Besides, I like your quirks. Ain’t nothing wrong with being unique.”

  “If you say so.” Rivi shivered at the feel of Argos’s dull claw tips teasing his skin. He soon relaxed again, laying his head against Argos’s shoulder.

  “I do.” Argos worked his fingers through Rivi’s fur a few more times. “And I think you’re probably right. I’d wager plenty of people have shown interest in you, and you were just too full of self-doubt to realize it.” He waggled a finger in front of Rivi’s muzzle. “And that ain’t to demean you, or make you regret what mighta been. Just pointing it out. You deserve to feel wanted, just like anyone else does. And a year from now, long after you and I say our goodbyes, someone else is gonna look at you, and think all kinds of desirous thoughts. And when they do…” Argos tapped Rivi’s nose. “I want you to remember the way I looked at you, the way I talked to you, and I want to recognize when someone else feels the same way.”

  Rivi blinked, eyes half-crossed as he stared at Argos’s finger. “I shall do my best.”

  “Good.” Argos tapped his nose again. “And after that, if they don’t treat you like a fuckin’ gentleman, they ain’t worth your time. You understand me?”

  “I suppose so.” Rivi glanced at the coyote’s face.

  Argos stared down at him. “Respect is a two way street, Spots. Now, you already know I don’t care who someone wants to fuck. Gender don’t matter much, as I see it. What does matter is treatin’ your lover properly. I already know you’re practically made out of respect, and politeness. So whoever you’re with, whether it’s a one night fling, or a lifetime of marriage, you deserve the same respect you give them. If some big, handsome lion with a ebony mane wants to take you to his bed, but he treats you like shit? You tell him to fuck right off.”

  Rivi chirruped a few giggles. “If those were his intentions for me, perhaps that wouldn’t be the best word choice to use. But your point is taken, and agreed with.”

  “Good.” Argos resumed petting Rivi’s head. “The way I see it, I got a precious few months to try and get you ready to face the world anew. If I can hammer even a few important lessons into your head before this voyage is over, you’ll be safer and happier the rest of your days.”

  “I like the sound of that, even if I doubt it’s efficacy.” Rivi sighed, shifting his head slightly. It drifted towards the coyote’s chest. Argos’s steady heartbeat was faintly audible. “But I shall attempt to absorb whatever lessons you see fit to teach me.”

  “I hope you do.” Argos circled his fingers around one of Rivi’s ears. “So far we’ve got, don’t flash your money around, don’t be ashamed of who you are, and don’t allow anyone to disrespect you, even your lovers.”

  Rivi shivered, his ear folding back under the gentle attention. “Those all seem like reasonable lessons. Any others you might like to offer, in the moment?”

  “Well…” Argos teased the other ear the same way. “This is more like general life advice, but…” He smoothed down Rivi’s fur. “You’re spending a few years traveling, right? If I were you, I’d try to experience everything you won’t be allowed to do or enjoy back home.”

  A lopsided smile appeared on Rivi’s muzzle. “You mean like indulging in my impurity, and snuggling a handsome coyote in private?”

  Argos gave a bark of laughter. “Okay, I guess you’ve already got started on that one. But yeah, that kind of thing. Now, I ain’t saying go out there and fuck everyone that smiles at ya without so much as usin’ protection, or nothing. But in general, if you get a chance to explore things safely, I say go for it.”

  Rivi canted his head, a witty, slightly bawdy retort forming in his brain. Are you only saying that because you hope I’ll reciprocate your interest, someday? Rivi grinned, attempting to look coy. At least, he hoped he looked coy, rather say, constipated. Or addled in the brain.

  “Are you…” Rivi forced his smile to widen. But not too wide and toothy, he thought. He wanted to tease the coyote, not threaten him. “Only saying that because you’re hoping to explore me?”

  His smile vanished in an instant. Rivi bolted upright on the sofa, hot embarrassment surging through him and heating his ears. He stared at Argos, eyes wide and horrified behind his spectacles. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry!” Rivi put his hands over his muzzle, muffling his voice. “I didn’t mean to say something so lascivious and explicit!”

  Argos visibly fought back laughter, his muzzle tensing and shoulders trembling. The coyote’s tail wagged against the sofa’s back. He reached out and gently pulled Rivi’s hands down away from his face. “Spots, relax. That was funny.”

  Rivi let his hands drop away. “It-it was?” His ears went flat, and his tail coiled in on itself, as if it too was embarrassed for him. “I meant to make a far politer joke.”

  “Well, the one you did make was good.” Argos eased Rivi’s hands back to the cheetah’s lap. “Only reason I ain’t laughing is because I didn’t want you to think I was laughing at you.” He patted Rivi’s hands. “I’d think by now you should realize you could say the dirtiest, filthiest things, and you still ain’t gonna offend me.”

  “You’d think so, and yet…” Rivi slowly relaxed again, sighing to himself. “Whenever I blurt out something so embarrassing or libidinous, I cannot help but be horrified by my own foolish impulsive words.”

  Argos perked a single ear. “Libidinous? That’s a new one to me.”

  “Yes, libidinous.” Rivi scrunched up his face. “Like the other day, right before I toppled over the luggage cart. And I asked you if you knew any more dirty jokes about…” Even though they were alone, he still lowered his voice to a whisper. “Penile functions.”

  Argos yapped laughter. “Oh, yeah. I almost forgot that, cause I was so worried about you fallin’ over.”

  Rivi snorted. “You’d forgotten? Well, in that case, I regret bringing it up. But that’s half my problem, I fear.” He idly waved his hand. “Half the time, there’s a disconnect between what’s in my brain, and what comes across my tongue. And the other half is exactly the opposite problem. I know I shouldn’t say something, and yet I cannot stop myself. And each time, I end up ever so embarrassed. I fear I can’t escape some manner of personal humiliation no matter what I say.”

  “You don’t gotta feel that way around me, Spots.” Argos squeezed the cheetah’s hand, careful to keep his fingers from straying too far. “As far as I’m concerned, you ain’t got nothing to be embarrassed for. Everyone has a slip of the tongue, now and then. You just have a few more than average. Nothing else to it.”

  Rivi peered down at the coyote’s tan-furred hand atop his own. He was thankful for Argos’s care to avoid his pads. “I appreciate that, though I fear it will do little to quell my long-ingrained feelings.”

  “I know, Spots.” Argos patted his hand again, then pulled his arm back. “I just wanted you to hear it.” He hooked his elbow over the back of the sofa, grinning. “Anyway, it was a good joke. I had a reply all lined up, but in the interests of saving you further embarrassment, I’ll keep it to myself.”

  Rivi rubbed his hands together, glancing at his unopened photo album. “That’s probably for the best. Would I be correct in assuming it involved a positive answer to my lascivious query?”

  Argos only shrugged, and smiled. “Again, in the interest of saving you embarrassment, I can neither confirm nor deny the content, and context, of my follow up joke.”

  The cheetah chuckled. “Now you sound like you’re speaking to the press on behalf of some important but secretive ministry. Is that something you’ve had to do, in your role?”

  Argos shook his head. “Nope. The Guild has people for that sort of thing, but the actual operatives like Iosa and me? They don’t much like our faces showing up in anything public.” His muzzle twisted into a scowl. “On that note, I might have to ask you not to feature any pictures of me in your eventual book about your pilgrimage. At least, not any with clear shots of my face.”

  “Oh…” Rivi glanced towards his camera cases. “I’m not entirely certainly I haven’t already taken some of you.”

  “That’s okay,” Argos said. “You’re welcome to have them for personal use, just…” The coyote scratched at his neck, ruffling the thick gray and tan fur. “Keep them to yourself, huh? And when you talk about this journey, you might wanna consider using a fake name for the coyote you roomed with. Just in case.”

  Rivi slowly nodded. “I certainly wouldn’t want to get you into any sort of trouble.” He turned his gaze back to Argos. “You really are quite secretive, aren’t you?”

  “It’s a Guild requirement. It’s a lot easier for people like Iosa and me to get in and out of wherever we need to, when no one out there really knows our names, or faces. Harder to track where we’ve been, too.” Argos smiled, though a hint of tension shone through beneath his usual, easy-going facade. “You understand, right Spots?”

  Rivi returned his smile. “Certainly. While your secret police guild might not be the same as ours, I am…” Rivi paused, trying to parse his words carefully. “Acquainted with their needs for secrecy, just the same.” The cheetah glanced away, suddenly eager to shift the subject even if it lead to further embarrassment on his behalf. “Anyway, given your earlier desirous statements, I suspect I know your answer to my personally exploratory query, already.”

  Argos perked his ears. “Personally exploratory, huh? Now I’m imagining a couple of well to-do Church cats on their wedding night…” He sat up, pretending to nervously unbutton his waistcoast. “I daresay, shall we attempt some personally exploratory behavior?” Then he shifted his voice higher. “Certainly not! It’s still light outside! We cannot procreate in the daytime!”

  Rivi giggled, swatting Argos’s shoulder. “Oh, shush. We aren’t that bad.”

  Argos laughed with him, leaning back against the sofa. “Probably a good thing, too. Otherwise there might not be many cats left before long.”

  Rivi rubbed at the back of his head. “That’s never really been a problem. The Church does encourage married couples to have children, after all. To that end, after the conclusion of my pilgrimage, I imagine it shall be firmly suggested to me, that I…” He scrunched his muzzle. “Find someone to marry, eventually. Perhaps I’ll even be set up with someone of importance, and encouraged to pursue a relationship, for the betterment of…” He trailed off, then snorted, waving his hand. “Well, I shouldn’t bore you with that manner of political theater, anyway. And besides, that’s a worry for future Rivi.”

  The coyote sneered, a few fangs revealed beneath his curled lip. “If you ask me, future Rivi oughta tell them to fuck off, and ‘pursue a relationship’ with whoever the hell he wants.” He held his hands up. “I know, I know. It ain’t that easy, for you.”

  “No,” Rivi said, slowly shaking his head. “It isn’t. If only I hadn’t been so burdened with impurity throughout my schooling, I might have already met a female I fancied in university. At least that way I could be with someone I cared about.” The cheetah flattened his ears. “Then again, as troublesome as it often was for me to talk to and connect with other people, it probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

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  Argos grabbed the cheetah’s shoulder, squeezing a little too firmly. “You ain’t burdened with nothing, Rivi, save all the shame and self-doubt your people heaped upon you. You shouldn’t have to change who you are inside, just cause someone else don’t like it, and don’t understand it. That’s on them. That ain’t on you. At least, it damn sure shouldn’t be.”

  Rivi smiled at the coyote’s words, even as his shoulder ached from the fervency of Argos’s grip. “I appreciate that. Though I don’t suppose you could come home with me, and explain that to the rest of the Church, as convincingly as you have to me.”

  The coyote gave a little bark of bittersweet amusement. “I wish, Spots. I get the feeling most of your people ain’t gonna listen. I suppose they might listen to my fists, but even I ain’t gonna be able to fight your whole damn country.”

  “Perhaps not.” Rivi glanced at the coyote’s still-tight grip. “Could you at least squeeze my shoulder a little less tightly?”

  “Oh, sorry.” Argos released the cheetah. “That I can do.”

  Rivi rubbed his shoulder a little. “That’s alright. I realize I’m likely far more fragile than most of the people you’re used to interacting with.”

  Argos shrugged. “Just means I gotta be extra gentle around you.” A smirk slowly returned to his muzzle. “Believe it or not, I can be quite good at handling delicate equipment.”

  “Yes,” Rivi said, fidgeting with his sleeves. “I’m quite certain of it.” He gave the coyote a sidelong glance. “Might I ask you another personal question, along those lines?”

  “Always.” Argos leaned against the sofa, resting his arm over the back of it again.

  “You’ve…” He flourished his hand a few times, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. “You’ve been with other males before, I assume?”

  Argos nodded. “I have, yes.”

  “And…” Rivi rubbed his hands together. “Only males? I rather had the feeling that you and Iosa might be ex-lovers, but I did not wish to presume.” He blinked, his eyes widening. “And now I’m presuming! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

  “Spots.” Argos held a hand up, silencing. “Relax. Lemme make this easy for you. Yeah, Iosa and I have fucked. No, we’re not currently fucking. She’s got this girl she fancies, right now.”

  The coyote’s bluntness left Rivi’s ears heated, his whiskers twitching. “That answers one of my questions, then.” He watched Argos for a moment, his head tilted. “And she fancies a girl, you say? So, Iosa also deals with impure thoughts. And both prefer…” He knit his fingers together, murmuring to himself. “Or rather, you don’t prefer…”

  “We call it The Club.” Argos drummed his fingers against the back of the couch. “The Club for Respectable Individuals Who Like Other Respectable Individuals. There aren’t a lot of words out there in Gilded for sexualities like ours, that aren’t demeaning. So, among some of those circles, we’ve come out with our own words and phrases for it. Iosa and I always liked to call it being in The Club. Which means that you, Mister Rivimiralous.” Argos gently poked Rivi’s chest. “Are now an official member of the Club along with respectable individuals such as Iosa and myself.”

  Rivi adjusted his spectacles. He racked his brain, trying to remember if he’d heard anyone using that particular code-phrase before. It was hard to say. He very well might, and yet he wouldn’t have given it a second thought at the time. Which, Rivi supposed, was entirely the point. “I do think I like the sound of that better than being called impure.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Argos cocked his head, flicking a single ear back. “As far as who we prefer, to save you the trouble of asking…” The coyote chuckled. “We both like everyone. However, Iosa leans a bit further towards other females, whereas I’m basically right down the middle. I’m less concerned about what you got down there…” Argos playfully towards the cheetah’s crotch. “And more interested in what you got up here…” Then he tapped Rivi’s head, and chest. “And in here.”

  Rivi scrunched up his muzzle. “Really?”

  “Yeah, more or less.” Argos traced a finger around one side of Rivi’s spectacles. “That, and cute glasses. Those don’t hurt, either.”

  The cheetah mewled chiming laughter. “I don’t believe anyone has ever referred to my spectacles as cute, until you.”

  “Well, they are.” Argos leaned back and made a show of looking Rivi over. “Now, all that ain’t to say that I wouldn’t enjoy seeing you in nothing but your spectacles. Cause I sure as hell would. Just to say that I’d feel the same way about you, if you were female. Make sense?”

  “I-I think so,” Rivi said, wide-eyed. Truth be told, the cheetah scarcely heard anything after Argos suggested seeing him nude. Rivi was fairly certain his brain had suffered a serious and immediate malfunction. He feared he might have even ruptured an important vessel. All at once, all he could picture was himself posing in front of Argos, completely nude save for his spectacles. “M-makes s-sense, yes!”

  Argos’s smile returned. “You okay there, Spots?”

  Perfectly fine. That was what Rivi meant to say. Perfectly fine, Argos, and that’s a very open-minded attitude you have. But a torrent of words bubbled in Rivi’s brain, and try as he might, he couldn’t quite grasp the right ones. “Yes, Argos, I’m perfectly naked!” Horror filled him. “I mean, n-not naked!” Unbidden, he found himself wondering if Argos would also be unclothed in this mysterious and illicit scenario. Which did not make his attempts to amend himself any easier. “Perfectly naked Argos is perfectly fine!”

  Argos burst into raucous, yapping laughter. “Oh yeah? I dunno, might be a little chilly to just walk around naked. We better turn the radiator up before I take my clothes off.”

  Rivi clapped a hand to his muzzle. He forced himself to stop speaking, lest he dig himself even deeper into the mire of embarrassment in which he steadily sank. He turned away from Argos, not because he ashamed, but simply because the longer he stared at the coyote, the more he feared he’d blurt out something even more humiliating. Especially as now in his mind, Rivi could not help but picture himself lounging in the nude on the sofa, whilst Argos strode the cabin naked, save for his pistols strapped against his gray-furred body. At least, Rivi assumed that area of Argos was as gray as the fur upon his throat.

  “Spots?” Argos set a hand on Rivi’s shoulder. This time, his touch was far more gentle. Concern hung in his voice. “Too much?”

  The cheetah slowly shook his head. He took a slow breath through his nose, held it, then let it out just as gradually. Rivi lowered his hand. “N-no. Just trying to shut myself up before I say something even more humiliating.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Argos patted the cheetah’s back. “You just gotta try and laugh that shit off. Especially when it’s just me.”

  “A welcome thought, though not as easy as you make it sound.” Rivi pressed into Argos’s stilled before he could think better of it. “Especially when I was struggling not to picture the two of us…” He swallowed. “In the nude.”

  “Oh yeah?” Argos’s rubbed Rivi’s back in a little circle. “How’d that work out?”

  “It didn’t.” Rivi glanced back over his shoulder, poking his tongue out at the coyote. “You still had your guns on, though.”

  Argos grinned. “Yeah, that sounds like me.” His hand still. “Sorry, you okay with me touching you this way?”

  Rivi considered the question. To his surprise, he did not feel especially uncomfortable with the idea of Argos tender, but steady touch upon him. “It’s fine, but thank you for asking.” He swallowed, his tail flicking against the coyote’s leg. “I should imagine you keeping your guns on whilst nude is the only detail my brain put together correctly.” His gaze drifted around the room. “Given my lack of experience with…” He waved a hand. “Everything else.”

  “I’m sure you got the important stuff.” Argos’s other hand joined the first, and Rivi found himself melting into the coyote’s attention. “Even if your mind put cheetah bits on a coyote body. But hell, you can always go buy one of those magazines behind the dividers if you want to fill in the blanks properly.”

  “Oh, divines have mercy!” Rivi went right back to covering his face with his hands. “I’m a respectable scholar on an important pilgrimage! I can’t be purchasing pornographic magazines.”

  Argos stroked Rivi’s shoulder. “So, you want me to buy one and accidentally leave it open to a picture of some naked canine?”

  “Certainly not!” Rivi dropped his hands away from his muzzle to slap the couch cushion. “Why, I would slam it shut and throw it into the wastebin immediately. Or…” Without looking directly at Argos, he found it little easier to word his reciprocal joke. “At least after I’d given the periodical a brief but thorough inspection to confirm that it was, indeed, filthy trash.”

  “There ya go, Spots.” Argos worked his hands up and down the feline’s back. “You wanna turn back around someday, or are you just gonna face away from me the rest of the trip?”

  “I’m rather enjoying what you’re doing, at the moment.” Rivi wriggled into Argos’s caress, sighing. It was a struggle to fight back the soft purr that threatened to rise in his throat, but Rivi kept it tamped down. “Before I forcibly wrench us away from this particular line of discussion, might you permit me one more personal question?”

  The coyote chuckled, his hands stilling for a moment. “What do I keep telling you?” He patted Rivi’s shoulder, then resumed rubbing his back. “You don’t gotta get my permission to ask me a question. Just ask it.”

  Rivi flattened his ears back. What seemed so simple for Argos was so contradictory to his upbringing. “I shall try, but I make no promises.” He glanced back at the coyote’s face. “Have you ever…” Rivi looked away again, waving his hand. “You know. With a feline?”

  Argos flashed him a crooked smile, then shook his head. “Nope. Mostly just canines, and foxes. Plus one rabbit, and one human.”

  “Linha, right?” Rivi ran his hands back and forth across his knees. “The rabbit, I mean. I recall Iosa teasing you about a rabbit who liked knives.”

  “Yup, that’s Linha. She’s one of us.” Argos worked his hands up to Rivi’s shoulders, massaging them for a moment before easing back down. “An Orphan, I mean. Iosa and I worked a three person team with her, for a while. She’s on a different assignment now, though. And I think ‘likes knives’ is an understatement. She gets even more excited for sharp things than I do for fancy firearms.”

  Rivi looked back over his shoulder again, his ears swiveled to mischievous angles. “Well, she sounds fun, then. And terrifying.”

  “Those are two words that accurately describe Linha, yes.” The coyote chuckled. “She’s the first person you wanna have a drink with, and the last person you wanna piss off. Being with her for a while was a whole…” Argos lifted a hand to flourish it in the air. “Experience, lemme tell ya.”

  “I should imagine so,” Rivi said. He’d met scarce few rabbits thus far, and most of them had been as mild-mannered and polite as he was. A rabbit in the secret police, possessed of the same brash attitude as Argos’s and armed with a plethora of knives did indeed seem like an entire experience. Rivi wasn’t entirely sure if he hoped to meet the mysterious rabbit someday, or wished to never set eyes upon her. “Perhaps you’ll have to share stories involving her, someday.”

  Argos grunted, patting the coyote’s shoulder. “I don’t think you’re ready for Linha stories, Spots. Let’s get you a little more adjusted to spending time with Iosa and me first. Wouldn’t wanna traumatize your mind too badly.”

  The cheetah chuckled. “Perhaps that’s for the best.” He leaned into Argos’s hands, sighing. “That feels far nicer than I should admit.”

  “Good.” Argos caressed the cheetah from his shoulders, to his lower back. “You know, Spots. As long as we’re on this ship together…” The coyote’s hands roamed upwards again, leaving Rivi happily wriggling into the gentle kneading. “Maybe getting you used to someone else’s affectionate touch oughta be another of our goals. Whether like this, or having you relaxing against me. Or even just things like hugs.” His hands stilled. “Only as much as you’re comfortable with, of course.”

  The cheetah canted his head. “I suppose that isn’t a terrible idea. I’m surprisingly comfortable with this, right now. Probably because it feels so pleasant.” He scowled, his ears flattening. “And because I’m trying not to think too hard about it.”

  “Sometimes that’s for the best.” Argos’s hands roamed up and down Rivi’s body, gently working the tension out of stiff muscles. “The heart knows what it wants. The brain just complicates things.”

  “Perhaps so.” Rivi’s gaze wandered around the room again, soon falling on the photo album still resting upon the table, along with Argos’s scarcely touched whiskey glass. “It strikes me that all my questions have derailed us from our original purpose in coming over here.”

  Argos only shrugged. “My original purpose was just to spend time with you. Seeing your photos and such are just a bonus. And like I said earlier, we got all night.” He gestured towards the thick scrapbook. “We could get started now, if you want. Take a break when dinner shows up.” He laughed to himself. “Or your army of newspapers. Whichever comes first.”

  “That sounds nice.” Rivi reluctantly pulled away from Argos’s hands in order to lean forward and fetch the book from the table. Then he settled back against the sofa with the photo album on his lap. “You’re certain this won’t be too boring for you?”

  “It’s about you, Spots.” Argos stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “How could it be boring?”

  Rivi’s ears heated, his cheeks the same beneath his fur. “I daresay most people would use that fact as evidence of why it would be boring.”

  “Well, in case you ain’t noticed,” Argos said, before starting across the cabin. “I ain’t most people. I’m getting some water, you want anything?”

  “Some water as well, please.” Rivi watched the coyote walk away. Argos’s bushy tail swished back and forth with every step. Rivi still found the canine’s tail fascinating. Compared to most feline tails, its long gray and tan fur peppered with black looked exceedingly lush, and luxurious. He wondered how many times a day Argos had to brush it to keep it looking so magnificent. “I’ve already ordered a few bottles of lager to come up with my tail.” The cheetah blinked, sucked in a breath, and swiftly attempted to amend himself. “With your tail. Dinner! With my dinner.” He coughed, and forcibly turned his attention to the furniture around him. “My, just look at the beautiful patterns on those cushions. Handstitched, I’m certain.”

  Argos laughed, but it was a happy sound, not a demeaning one. “You’re a treat, Rivi.” He poured two glasses of water, then returned to the cheetah. He set the glasses down, then turned away, leaving his back facing Rivi and his tail before the feline. “Go ahead.”

  Rivi blinked a few times, trying not to stare. “E-Excuse me?”

  “You think I ain’t noticed you eyeballing my tail since we first met?” Argos smirked over his shoulder. “Canine tails different than yours, I know. Go on, you can run your fingers through my fur.”

  Rivi swallowed. He reached towards the coyote’s tail, then hesitated, his hand hovering near it. “Is that not…” The cheetah glanced up. “Intimate?”

  Argos shrugged. “Kinda depends on how you do it, I guess. But I don’t mind. Worst case, I gotta adjust my trousers a bit till the issue resolves itself.”

  Rivi giggled under his breath. “At least you’re not in public.” He brushed his hand over the top of Argos’s tail. The fur was just as soft as it looked, plush and silken despite its thickness. “Oooh. I don’t often get to feel someone else’s fur against my pads. Let alone fur this thick.”

  The coyote turned his face away, but his grin was evident in his voice. “Well, if you end up havin’ to fidget with your trousers, I’ll pretend not to notice.”

  “I shall be grateful for your discretion.” Rivi combed his fingers through Argos’s tail. He’d never felt fur quite so thick and lush. He worked his hand through it again, and this time the coyote’s tail twitched against his touch. Argos shifted his weight slightly, but otherwise betrayed no discernable reaction. Rivi was tempted to see just what it took to earn a more noticeable response. In the interests of avoiding further embarrassment for both of them, however, he decided against it. He ran his fingers through it one last time, savoring the feel of such soft fur against his sensitive pads. Then he leaned back into the sofa, smiling up at the coyote. “I shall cease there, to save us both the awkwardness of trouser adjustment. Thank you, though.”

  “You’re welcome.” Argos turned around and sat down alongside the cheetah again. “Hopefully that satisfies at least a little of curiosity.” He picked up his cup and took a drink of water. “However temporarily.”

  “It does.” Rivi followed the coyote’s lead, and drank some of his water. “Your fur is very soft. It felt quite nice against my pads.”

  “Felt nice for me, too.” Argos took another drink, then swapped his water for his whiskey glass. “And I do try to take care of it, when I can. Only so much I can do with it when I gotta spend a few weeks tromping through the woods.”

  Rivi checked his cup to ensure it was dry, then rested it atop the photo album on his lap. “Like when you captured that bear, you told me about? I can imagine that would be quite frustrating. It could be worse, of course.” He grinned at the coyote. “At least you weren’t the one who soiled yourself.”

  “True!” Argos laughed, waggling a finger. Then he turned his attention to the album. “Alright, Spots, let’s have a look at these photos, huh?”

  “Certainly.” Rivi took another drink of cool water, then moved the glass to the table. He opened up the album. On the first page, a newpaper clipping proclaimed in bold letters, Wandering Scholar Chosen. “So, it’s in large part photographs, as I’ve been taken my notes elsewhere, but as you can see, I’ve also retained pertinent newspaper clippings and other paraphernalia.” He brushed his fingers over the newspaper. “You needn’t read the article, but there was an ongoing selection process, after the Ministry of Truth and Information announced it was time to anoint a new scholar to the position. As soon as I heard the news, I went to the Ministry to request an application!”

  Argos sipped his whiskey. “So there’s a whole application process?”

  “There is, but you have to meet certain qualifications.” Rivi turned the page, revealing a large, color photograph. “They wanted a pious scholar who actively works for the Church, and who not only excelled in university, but also possesses a wide range of linguistic fluencies. And you had to write a number of essays explaining why you’d be fit for the position, what it would mean to you, and so on. And!” Rivi tapped the first photo. It depicted him seated at a table, dressed in formal attire, before a panel of felines in robes. “You had to interview with ministry officials!” The cheetah shivered. “It was so nervewracking. I must have stumbled over my words horribly, and yet somehow, I impressed them enough to earn the title. I suspect upon the strength of my essays.”

  “Must have been it,” Argos said. He stared at the photo, an odd look on his face, his ears half-splayed as if in confusion. “So, they had a whole, long process, including interviews, which they photographed, and then they chose you?”

  “Yes!” Rivi beamed, quickly nodding. “I was shocked, quite honestly. But ever so proud of myself.” His smile faded, slightly, when Argos didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm. “Why did you say it like that?”

  Argos glanced up, his uncertainty evaporating into his usual, easy-going smile. “Don’t make nothing of it, Spots. You absolutely should be proud of yourself! Hell, you might be the most qualified scholar they ever sent in this journey. It’s just that…” He grunted, his tail flicking. “Where you’re one hell of a smart person, you’re a lot less qualified to survive…” He waved a hand at the ship. “All this. Let alone the rest of your trip. Don’t take no offense at this, but I think we’ve established you weren’t quite ready to take on the world by yourself. It seems to me they shoulda picked up on that during your interviews, and done more to actually prepare you for the journey. At the very damn least, they coulda hired you more than one lousy porter.”

  Rivi scowled, glancing down at the photo of himself. “That would be been nice, yes. Unfortunately, it would have been breaking with the traditions and spirit of the Wandering Scholar, in the first place.”

  “Alright, Rivi.” Argos nodded once. “I said my piece, and I ain’t gonna argue with your people’s traditions. Whatever the circumstances, you oughta be very proud.”

  “I am!” Rivi wasn’t entirely certainly Argos didn’t have deeper opinions on the matter, but the coyote was nearly unreadable, at best. He was sure Argos would have made a hell of a card player. He moved on to the next photograph. “Here I am, accepting my new title.”

  In the photo, Rivi was shown in an elegant, formal dress ensemble, replete with a collared golden shirt with ebony buttons, a purple scarf, black leather gloves, and a matching pair of trousers, along with boxy dress shoes. He stood upon a dias, surrounded by ministry officials, some wearing robes of office, while others wore even more formal dress attire. One of them was handing Rivi a framed certificate in both hands, while Rivi received it the same way. Banners hung above him, with flower arrangements decorating the dias.

  Argos examined the photo. “Looks like quite the ceremony.”

  “It was!” Rivi chuckled to himself. “Though if I’m honest, most of it was ever so boring. I spent over an hour sitting with my family in silence while Minister This and Deputy Minister That gave their own speeches.” He waved a hand. “Ostensibly about the historical importance of the position, but mostly just bloviating about what a good job they’d done as ministers, themselves.”

  Argos barked laughter. “Yeah, that sounds right. I think politicians are gonna act like politicians no matter where you’re from.”

  Rivi grinned, nodding. “I’m quite certain that’s the truth.” He turned the page again, revealing a new photograph. “Here I am with my family, after receiving the title.”

  The next image showed Rivi standing amidst other cheetahs. His father stood just behind Rivi. The older cheetah had one arm around Rivi’s mother, whilst his other hand was placed upon Rivi’s shoulder. His stern expression was broken up by a rare, genuine smile. Father wore dark, highly formal clothing, with deep blue and silver vestments of office across his shoulders. Ministry emblems were pinned to them. Rivi’s mother wore a layered dress in shades of lilac and silver, her hands clasped, a demure smile slightly parting her muzzle. Alongside Rivi stood his sister, roughly the same height as her sibling. She too, wore a formal dress, but her beaming smile outshone the rest of them entirely.

  “Nice looking family.” Argos sipped his whiskey. “Your father looks almost as surly as I imagined him.”

  Rivi snickered. “It was certainly not…” He grimaced, unsure exactly how to describe it. “Common to see him smile, like that. Especially after he first learned of my…”

  Argos tensed. “You don’t gotta say it, Spots.”

  “I know.” Rivi smiled, brushing his fingers over his father’s face in the photo. “You know, ever since he learned about…” He licked his muzzle. “The real me. That was one of the few times I remember him being genuinely proud of me, just the same.”

  “I’m glad for that, but…” A low growl emanated from somewhere deep inside the coyote. “If I ever meet your father, Spots? I’ll probably knock him the fuck out.”

  Rivi laughed at that, somehow both amused and horrified. “Oh, you would be in an absolute world of trouble, if you did. No, an entire universe of it.”

  “Oh yeah?” Argos leaned over, scrutinizing the photo. He sucked in a breath. “Oh, shit. Are those indigo sashes? Photo’s a little too blurry to see the emblems well, but-”

  “I’m sorry,” Rivi said, swiftly turning the page. “I’ve said more than I should. I’m not really supposed to talk about my father, or what he does.”

  Argos held his hands up, whiskey wishing in his glass. “No problem, Spots. I gotta keep my secrets, you gotta keep yours.”

  Rivi swallowed, nodding. “Thank you.”

  In the back of Rivi’s mind, he worried it was already too late. That particular photo wasn’t really meant to be shown publicly. Not the least of which to people who might actually recognize the rank and meaning of his father’s various accoutrements of office. He hadn’t really thought about it until Argos asked, but now it seemed all too obvious that a secret policeman like Argos would know all about the intricacies of his people’s governance. Though Rivi hated to think of as such, he was all too aware that his father was a very important person. Rivi suspected some people would also add the words powerful, and dangerous to his descriptors. And if anything, Rivi thought, his father might be all the more important and powerful now.

  If Argos had discerned more than he should have, the coyote did not betray it. Instead, he just smiled at the cheetah. “So, what’s next?”

  The following pages had a few more newspaper clippings, a photograph of Rivi from a news periodical, and a printed transcript of a radio. “These are just from some of my media appearances, before my pilgrimage began.”

  “That must have been exciting.” Argos sipped his whiskey. “And probably nerve-wracking.”

  “It was absolutely both, yes.” Rivi flipped another page. “I’m sorry none of these are photographs I’ve taken, yet. But they gave me copies of all the officially photographed events, and I thought it important to include them, as well.”

  “Nah, they’re great, Rivi.” Argos stretched his arm out, holding it over the cheetah’s shoulders. “Do you mind?”

  Rivi shook his head. “Not in the least.”

  Argos draped his arm around the cheetah, gently pulling him closer. “How’s that?”

  “Lovely.” Rivi leaned up against the coyote. “Especially now that we’ve moved beyond my father and his disapproving stare.”

  “I’m tellin’ ya, Spots.” Argos set his whiskey glass down, only to make a fist. “Knocked the fuck out.”

  Rivi held his thumb and finger a short distance apart. “That might be a bit harsh.” He smirked up at the coyote. “Perhaps just slapped around a few times.” Then his grin faded as quickly as it had come. “No, he’s still my father, and I should still love and respect him enough not to advocate for that.”

  Argos grunted. “You’re a bigger person than me, Spots. Tell you what. If it ever happens, I just won’t bother to tell you about it, then you won’t have to feel guilty about enjoying his comeuppance.”

  “Yes, that will work.” Rivi flipped through a few more photos of official events, none of which he found particularly interesting in the moment. “These are all variations of the same thing. I’m looking for one from my last night in Rigarda, before I officially started my pilgrimage. I was taken to the First Temple, where our scriptures say our worship of the Divine Weaver first began.”

  Argos held up a hand. “Random question about your Church, if that’s okay.”

  Rivi smiled. “Certainly.”

  “I’ve heard it called several different ways.” Argos tilted his head. “Church of the Divine Weaver, Weavers, and Weaving. Which one’s accurate?”

  “Technically, they all are.” Rivi waggled his hands. “The ‘Weave’ part is generally interchangeable, they all refer to the same worship. However, to discuss scriptural specifics.” Rivi cleared his throat, adopting what he imagined as a more scholarly, professional tone. “Weavers, plural, refers to the entirety of the pantheon of Divines, from the Singing Stars of the Cosmos, to the Divine of Sand and Smoke who bound our fractured world together. And every one in between.” Rivi lifted a single finger, shaking it. “Whereas, Weaver, singular, refers just to the Divine of Sand and Smoke. As it was he who wove our existence out of our shattered, cosmic brethren. Furthermore, the Divine Weaving, as a verb, refers to that act itself. When he wove our world back together.”

  “Huh.” Argos rubbed one of his ears, then gave a single incredulous bark of laughter. “And here I was thinking people just got the name wrong.”

  “It can be confusing to outsiders, I realize.” Rivi smiled, and turned his attention back to the album, flipping a few more pages. “Ah! Here it is. Regardless of scriptural accuracy, The First Temple is one of our oldest, and holiest sites. It contains some of our most sacred relics, as well. Now, this photograph was staged, of course, but I quite like it as well. And after it was taken, I was allowed some time to myself to reflect, and pray.”

  In the picture, Rivi rested on his knees in the midst of a gargantuan chamber. Fluted columns rose high above the cheetah at the edges of the photo. A gilded alter sat before him, with an assortment of ritual vessels and prayerbooks placed upon it. The cheetah himself wore a plain, cream colored robe, with none of the usual vibrant colors his people often preferred. To dress so meekly when in holy places was considered a mark of respect towards the divines they worshiped. His hands were upon his knees, and his head was bowed deeply. Even his tail, poking out through an opening in the back of his robe, was curled around him as if to avoid showing itself off.

  An enormous sculpture towered over both Rivi and the altar. At the center of it, was the mortal incarnation of the Divine Weaver himself. It was carved from gray marble, depicting an entity of slender build, with unusually large ears, and short pair of horns set towards the front of his head. The Weaver’s muzzle was longer than a feline, yet not so narrow as the average canine. He was nude, save for a golden sash around his waist for modesty. A bushy tail stuck behind him. The Weaver’s arms were upraised, and depicted to be dissolving away into sand on one side, and smoke on the other. Gold dust was used for the sand, whilst silver made up the smoke. All around the Divine were carvings of the world’s myriad disparate continents and islands. The smoke and sand stretched to each of them, pulling them closer, and weaving their damaged reality back together.

  “Whoa…” Argos leaned in, staring at the picture. “That’s beautiful.”

  “Isn’t it?” Rivi brushed his fingers across the statue in the photo. “It’s actually quite old, too. Though admittedly, it has been recently renovated. The various continents are suspended via carefully hidden supports, and wires. And the gold and silver had to be retouched, along with the painting on the sash.” He gave the coyote a smile. “Very few outsiders get to see this, you know.”

  “Well, in that case I’m honored.” Argos took a drink of whiskey, then set his cup down. He returned his attention to the photograph. “You know, I think I assumed your divines would be feline.”

  Rivi smiled and shook his head. “They aren’t. Though, we don’t often depict their mortal vessels, either. But, they actually took the form of urd’thin. That’s why we call the urd’thin, the divine people. Because not only did the gods once choose their forms? But much like our very world, the urd’thin were once first woven from disparate pieces of others.”

  Argos blinked, staring at the cheetah. “I don’t think they’d appreciate you saying that.”

  The cheetah scowled. “Perhaps not. I’ve never actually met one of the divine people, before. I’d certainly love to, though. My understanding is that they came to be in our world around the same time the humans, gnolls, and kobolds did. Yet in far fewer numbers. Do you suppose they’d rather be referred to as the descendants of the divines?”

  “Hard to say. They’d probably just look at you like you were crazy.” Argos looked at the photo again. “So that’s him, weaving the world back together, huh?”

  “That’s him, yes.” Rivi stared at the photo, a soft smile upon his muzzle. “He of Many Names. He Who They Turned Their Backs Upon. He Who Rose Against the Singing Stars. He of Sand And Smoke. I could speak at great length about him, and what we believe he did, but…” He glanced at Argos, hoping to wasn’t boring the coyote. To his pleasant surprise, Argos listened intently, his ears swiveled towards the cheetah. “The Scriptural basis of our beliefs say that long before our world existed as we know it, many others existed throughout the cosmos. Each was woven by another divine. Over time, the Divine Weavers, as they came to be known to us, ascended to the greater cosmos, and became like stars. Guiding lights, to shepherd each of their worlds through its eons of existence. It is said their guidance came as song, a music unheard, and a force unseen to most. And for a time, their song brought balance throughout existence.”

  Rivi paused to take a drink. He half-expected Argos to ask him to get to the point. Instead, the coyote only sipped his whiskey, and smiled at Rivi. His tail flicked.

  The cheetah set his glass back down, and went on. “Eventually, as the Laws of Entropy tell us, all things must one day begin to degrade. So to, holds true for the Cosmos, and even the divines. Lights and stars begin to fade. Chaos begins to replace order. And thus, did a divine begin to sing not of balance, but of chaos. A song of dissonance that clashed with the others, and set them about a path of conflict.” Rivi tapped the statue. “Some of the Scriptures tell us that this Divine suffered great loss, at the behest of his brethren. That in their striving for balance, they took away his world, and that which he loved. And so, with no world to call his own, he set about to undue the laws that the Singing Stars had set to govern existence. Where they believed that some must die, merely to make room for others, he believed that all deserved a chance to survive.” Rivi quieted a little. “Even if it meant bloodshed. And so, he went to war against the other divines, even though it meant pitting their children against one another.”

  Argos rubbed his muzzle, grimacing. “Kinda makes me think of the Times of Blood and Fear.”

  “Indeed.” Rivi leaned back against the coyote, his tail twitching. “Some do believe that when the world’s many peoples first met, that we were meant to fight one another, to determine who most deserved to inherit this newly-woven world. I prefer a different branch of the beliefs, though. That it was a test. To prove we deserved our collective second chances not by slaying one another, but by learning to live together.” He blinked, splaying his ears. “I’ve skipped ahead a bit, haven’t I.”

  Argos chuckled and shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Well…” Rivi rubbed the back of his neck, grinning. “To both backtrack, and fast forward, when the Great Fracturing happened, and parts of the Cosmos itself shattered, the Divine Weaver chose the greater good. He chose to give up his war, and use his divine powers to save as many people as he could, from as many worlds as he could. Thus, he brought forth continents from countless disparate worlds, each with their own unique peoples, and he wove them together, into this…” Rivi waved his hand in a sweeping gesture. “Into our home. The Fractured World.” He turned his eyes back to the picture. “It wasn’t just our world he wove back together, but all of them.”

  “Damn, Spots.” Argos stared at the image for a few moments, then lifted his face to grin at Rivi. “Never thought I’d be so interested in hearing someone talk about religious stuff.”

  The cheetah beamed. “I’m ever so heartened to hear that! I could prattle on endlessly about all things scriptural and philosophical, given half a chance.” He tilted his head. “I’m curious, though. Do our beliefs sound ridiculous to outsiders? It’s alright to be honest. I’ve certainly heard worse from others, I am sure.”

  “Yanno, Spots,” Argos said, rubbing Rivi’s arm. “I’m not really the one to ask. It ain’t the most believable explanation for our world I’ve ever heard, but it ain’t near the least believable, either. Something caused the Fractures, and something brought the humans and all the other peoples we share this world with, now. I’d say it’s just as likely it was your Divine Weaver as it was some kinda tear in the fabric between planes, or whatever else people say.” The coyote flashed him a toothy smile. “You know, Spots, after hearing all that? You are positively going to shit when you actually get to see a Fracture in a few days.”

  Rivi giggled. “I certainly hope not, since I’ll be standing outside at the time!”

  “True.” The coyote chuckled. “Maybe just make sure you go before we head to the viewing deck, just in case.”

  Rivi shifted, resting a little more against the coyote. “Are they as magnificent as I’ve heard?”

  “Better. Ain’t much phases me, and…” Argos sighed, laying his head against the back of the sofa. “They’re pretty awe-inspiring.” He stared at the ceiling in silence for a moment, then gestured at the photo album. “You know what this thing really makes me think, right now?”

  “What’s that?” Rivi hesitantly set his hand atop Argos’s. When the coyote did not pull away, the cheetah slowly stroked his fur, savoring its softness beneath his pads.

  “It just kinda makes me wish I had photographs of memorable shit from my life.” Argos’s tail flicked twice, but he continued staring at the ceiling. Dark clouds drifted behind the brilliance of his golden eyes. “I ain’t got nothing like that. Got a few pictures of my sister with Iosa and me when we were all pups, but that’s about it. Few pictures of beautiful landmarks and stuff, couple of friends, but…I ain’t really even supposed to keep those.”

  Rivi scowled, and gently squeezed Argos’s hand. “I suppose pictures from your life would conflict with the ‘secret’ part of the secret police.”

  “That they do.” Argos flicked his tail again. He blinked, and the darkness in his eyes was gone once more. The coyote lifted his head. “But that’s life, huh? No sense cryin’ over it. Besides, that’s what memories are for.”

  “Even so,” Rivi said, idly flipping the page back and forth a few times. “It seems a great shame not to have at least a few mementos of your travels, and friendships. If you’d like…” He gestured towards his suitcases filled with photography equipment. “I’d be happy to take a few particularly non-descript photos of you. Why, we could even take one of the two of us.” Rivi gave the Coyote a playful smile. “Assuming you felt I was memorable enough. Then, I could give you all the copies, or even the negatives. That way, you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else seeing them. At least then, you’d have some small record of your time aboard this vessel.” Rivi licked his nose, and looked away. “And with me.”

  “You know what, Spots?” Argos reached out and gently turned Rivi’s muzzle back towards him, to offer the feline a warm smile. “I would love that.”

  Something in Argos’s smile melted Rivi’s heart. Whatever it was, it left him warm, through and through. “Me too, Argos.”