Following the hand motions Xu Dingxiang was giving from the frontmost caravan sledge, Spoony guided the car along a somewhat narrow road stuck between some fairly large stone buildings and the craggy cliff like wall that surrounded this Oasis Point place. Regretting not taking pictures of the foxes and other creatures they'd seen on their way through Oasis’s Heel, Spoony promised himself to photograph the unique architecture around them for the scrapbook back home.

  It had looked bigger on the outside with all those tents and stuff around the gate and so he was taken a little aback when he found how tight it felt. The streets barely wider than most alleys in Anytoon, dusty brown and tan clay buildings with flat roofs practically shoving into one another for more elbow room and the tallest of which was four stories or so. Though what caught his eye the most was the pure white and blue buildings on the western end of the city which dwarfed everything else around it with its looming size.

  As much as Xi-Di and everyone else puffed the place up, he expected… more? The feline wasn’t quite sure honestly, straightening out the wheel and constantly checking the mirror to make sure he had the clearance. The old saying ‘When in Rome’ and all that but he wasn’t in Rome and he was pretty sure the streets were wider there. Then he thought about what Paulie told him about these Anti-mare toons and how they made most of the space around them when they could.

  With that perspective, this place wasn't any tighter than the time he was forced to track down a space the multilevel parking garage when the Sardine Symposium and Clown School convention decided to hold events on the same week. The convention center was only a few blocks away from Noodle Noggin University at the time and Dudd…

  Oh, the Dudd did his usual decision making.

  With the kind of timing that could only be described as maliciously oblivious and with all the foresight of a goldfish with amnesia—that the week of both conventions was the perfect opportunity to have all the school's parking lots repaved. His reasoning, delivered in a memo printed on paper so cheap the letters were slipping off even with the provided climbing gear: "The workers offered a discount if we let them do it during what they called their 'slow season.' Fiscal responsibility is our top priority, right after education. Or maybe before. I haven't decided yet. No, wait. Don’t put that on there. Erase. Delete. No, wait that’s send, I-"

  The discount, as Spoony later discovered, amounted to a grand total of forty-three dollars and sixteen cents.

  So, with the whole school, students and staff, levering, wedging, sliding, slipping, and literally filing their cars into parking spaces so tight an Agoraphobic roach would find it uncomfortable.

  Pat’s Packed Pattycake Garage became a bizarre ecosystem of automotive acrobatics where Tetris and tailpipes found common cause and pooched out pop-up sunroofs were used more than the doors.

  Cars were parked diagonally, sideways, and in one memorable instance, balanced precariously on two wheels against a wall—a feat accomplished by Professor Ricochet from the Physics Department. The old bulldog refused to explain how she'd done it and jowls twitching vaguely upward whenever asked.

  Spoony’s car at the time—a sensible, but so clapped out it was its own applause, mid-sized sedan that he'd named "The Litterbox" for its beige color and not, as some cruelly suggested, for its smell—was particularly ill-suited for Pattycake’s parking. Its floors slanted at angles that suggested they were designed by someone who had only heard about gravity secondhand which made his engine whine for mercy. The parking spaces were delineated by bright yellow lines buried down mere suggestions until boundaries were mere concepts. Some vehicles were so close together that their side mirrors cupped each other like lovers or even more intimate positions on top of one another.

  His hands twitched at the memory as the car’s tires crunched over the gravelly road, stirring up little puffs of dust. That first day Spoony had needed to circle for what felt like eons, his coffee growing cold, his patience wearing thinner than the excuses Dudd would later offer.

  The situation only got worse as that week went on. The parking became tighter, the methods more desperate. Students began arriving in carpools of improbable numbers—twelve undergraduates emerging from a compact car using tips from the Clown convention goers taking pity on them. Some faculty members took to arriving at dawn to secure a spot, sleeping in their vehicles until their classes began. Professor Pye from the Department of Dramatic Arts had taken to parking his motorcycle in the small space behind the vending machines, accessing it through an elaborate system of ropes and pulleys.

  Almost every day for that week, he would literally dig his way into and out of his car. The cat remembered getting his tail pinched in the trunk more than once when he was forced to crawl out that way. Of course, this was back before he bought his Doozy and shelled out extra simoleons for the 'foldaway' option.

  He settled on liking it. It was like they were driving through a cozy clay model.

  The memory evaporated as movement in his mirror caught his attention.

  Xi-Di suddenly flapping his arms like a deranged albatross, signaling a hard left. Puttering along like a slug on ice, Spoony cranked the wheel, slow and careful so as not to graze the Doozy’s fenders. After the short bend did road eventually spread the tight alleys to a much wider cul-de-sac that reminded the toon of a campground. There were a few large stately looking trees casting shade over the well-trod dirt where the sun’s still morning rays peeked over the wall. A solitary well stood loud and proud in its center and as he towed the sledges into a semi-circle next to it and cut the engine, he glanced over at the dashboard and gave the water gauge a few taps.

  To his surprise, the needle was actually not as low as he expected it to be and as it bobbed to a pleasing 3/4ths tank, he couldn’t help a low whistle that grew more impressed when he saw the gas tank was still almost full as well. He hadn’t exactly been feathering it for the mileage. His Doozy sank on its shocks, giving an almost theatrical hum as the crankshaft gave the pistons one last rotation for the road.

  “Well, I’ll be dipped,” he muttered. “Motown don’t miss. ‘might just-”

  Then he, embarrassingly, remembered his passenger he’d manhandled back into his passenger seat.

  He glanced at Zi-Zi sitting as stiff as any statue with a light blush dusting her cheeks the way a drop of Flavor-Aid colored a glass of water. For some reason, she was nibbling at her lip as if in serious thought, her armored dress chiming quietly as they bumped along. For some OTHER reason, seeing her like that made Spoony’s tail twitch. He politely cleared his throat, causing Zi-Zi to startle slightly in her seat.

  "Sorry about that, Miss Zi Nuan. Didn’t really know how to get out that situation." he explained, rubbing the back of his head, hoping to break the awkward silence he let settled between them. In the back of his mind, he could recognize tension when he saw it and with that pretty boy at the gate, she’d gotten really tense.

  Zi Nuan relaxed, if only by a fraction, straightening her hair which had fallen out of place during the drive. “No need to apologize, Master Sè Piān,” she replied softly. "Though it was quite…" Her tone was formal, but there was a slip in it like she was trying too hard to sound normal. "… unusual for you to dismiss someone so casually."

  "Well, the pretty boy didn't look like he was gonna take a hint so…" He shrugged, unable to come up with a better answer. "You either ignore people like that or hit 'em."

  Her jaw fell open slightly as if he’d said something revolutionary, which he didn’t think he did. Then it dawned on him what he missed. “Oh, unless it’s your boss. Then you dabble in a bit of misdemeanor shaboingery. But!” He quickly raised a finger. “You and I both know that can easily edge into federal tomfoolery charges, so being careful is key.”

  Zi Nuan blinked and then let out a small, musical laugh that seemed to catch her by surprise. Spoony found himself grinning. The tension that had been strung between them since the gate finally snapped like an overstretched rubber band.

  "You have such... creative ways of thinking, Master Sè Piān," she said, shaking her head with a soft smile playing on her lips.

  Spoony gave his skull a couple knocks. “This ol’ thing got me my Doctorate from NNU. Better hope it’s creative.”

  His humor faded though as he noticed the townsfolk trickling in slowly from the other streets, like racoons getting their first whiff of garbage after the entire neighborhood had gone on vacation. Actually, that wasn’t quite right. They were more like overcaffeninated sluggish meerkats- heads leaning from windows, popping out from around corners

  Now, that he was paying attention he finally realized why he’d been so put off when they'd entered. His subconscious had been screaming ‘PAY ATTENTION’ into a bullhorn for the rest of him to notice and now that he had… He wasn’t sure he liked what he saw. Not one bit.

  The people of White Oasis were tense. He’d seen it in the gathering attention they’d attracted on the way in. There was curiosity sure but the wary eyes and slightly hunched in set of the people’s shoulders spoke paragraphs without him needing to ask a single word. Spoony’s ears swiveled toward the sparse murmuring,

  the grim tightness to the lips, the way they lingered but didn’t approach—it all spoke of tension. Fear.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The kind of fear not even prescription strength japery would drag someone out of. Even the children clung to their parents as if not sure if they should stay or run back home.

  "Offer them snacks?" Spoony mumbled to himself, rummaging through his pockets. "Works on stray wildflowers, disgruntled students, and tenure committees." He produced a crumpled bag of shrimp crackers he only vaguely remembered getting from the vending machine in THE break room. ‘THE break room’ was not the same as a break room. It was called THE break room as in the room you only went to if you were flat broke. He did some mental calculations and cringed as he gave the bag a little shake and heard a sound that said, ‘way past expired and about to resurrect’.

  He hadn’t been to that room for nearly 3 years and the crackers were the only item left in that abandoned, forlorn vending machine.

  He stuffed them away, the crackers distinctly not giving off ANY kind of smell even though they’d ridden sidesaddle in his pockets for a good long while. Including God knew how many trips in the washing machine… He wasn’t going to bet his sinuses on a sniff.

  Before he could really follow that line of thought, he saw Xi-Di jog with a spring in his step belonging to a man half his age with a grin wide enough to qualify as its own area code spreading from cheek to cheek. Spoony popped open his door, hopping out the Doozy to meet him so fast his bare feet kicked up a tiny dust devil that promptly died of embarrassment and stage fright upon seeing the townsfolk's expressions.

  "This Xu Dingxiang cannot thank you enough, Master Cultivator." The man began, bowing to him gratefully. “We would’ve never made such time save the heavens themselves picking us up and setting us here.”

  "Ah." Spoony scratched behind one ear, tail flicking and cheeks warming ever so slightly. What was with these people and their obsession with gardening?

  Unlike the first stop, where the children were quick to pop from the sledges and start running around while the adults eased and swayed their way around like drunk sailors given shore leave, everyone seemed ready to set up now they were at their destination. Quite the difference from the people watching on.

  “Sure, sure. So, uh...” Spoony indicated the cul-de-sac-like area with a tilt of his head. “This the spot?”

  "Yes, yes, it is. Once we check in with the guards, we will be able to do business and, if it pleases you, we can leave in two, maybe three days.”

  Zi-Zi's armor tinkled as she sidled next to him, the sound reminiscent of a wind chime and Xi-Di’s straightened as if about to stand at a military parade rest but clearly caught himself. “Unless the master cultivators need to consult with one another.”

  It was a question but clearly came out like a leading statement. Spoony glanced at the woman who glanced back at him as if he was the one who was supposed to answer. He managed to swallow the brief surge of frustration. Like why was everyone assuming he was in charge? He was the tagalong, helping along, until he could get along a coastline and his paws on a seashell.

  Zi-Zi had been telling him about this place and her home on the way here before they’d stopped at the gate. She was a good conversationalist and though he learned she needed to talk with her eyes closed, including every single time the wheels and ground became partners in theory, or whenever the suspension creaked, or he hit the gas at little harder.

  He had learned a lot from her. Once he managed to choke down the utterly, soul-stripping truth he wasn't getting any coffee for at least 2 more days, he’d listened and learned about the Steppe and her home, the Stellar Wing Empire. Ani-mememe people and their weird names.

  Noticing he’d stretched the silence too long, the toon shrugged. “However long you need.” Actually, it would give him time to teach Pan-Yang some more since his mother was paying him. In shoes, yes but a job was a job. He went over to his car and unlocked the trunk, pulling out the makeshift punching bag and jamming it into the ground.

  Xi-Di's grin threatened to eclipse the sun itself. "Wonderful! Then perhaps we might—"

  “YOU!” The bellow of outrage cutting across the space almost had a physical weight to it. So much so for a moment, Spoony felt his shoulders- well not sag. It felt like some ghost, or another had decided to try and lean on him…or smash him aside but instead pressing against his entire body and into that fizzy, soda-pop sloshing… space within him. It made the fur on his tail stand on end and even though he shook it off like dust from a duster, he could tell this wasn’t a friendly feeling.

  He was proven right by how Xi-Di’s face all but snapped into a pale, rictus cringe and Zi-Zi, while not going as pale, jerked her hand snapping to wrap around the handle of her sword.

  Spoony looked over the stiff shoulder of the leader of Firebird Caravan with the slow deliberate motion of a cat who’s just heard a can opener three counties over.

  A man with a ponytail in blue-white robes that screamed "I compensate with fabric" stormed toward them, his face the exact shade of a boiled lobster left in the sun. Behind him bustled an almost exact copy of him who rather than angry, looked like he’d been trying to talk right up until this moment, and right behind the second were six… guards in armor. Like actual armor.

  However, what amusement he would’ve felt died as the cat saw past even that to the reactions of not only the caravan the other people of the town. The children were all on the ground, curled into fetal positions and shivering as if waiting for the monster in the closet to come out and eat them. The adults wobbled on their feet, their knees suddenly jello and only just holding on. Even the animals had begun to emit low, uneasy sounds that suggested they’d rather be anywhere than here.

  The lobster-faced man jabbed a finger at him and he recognized the guy who was not in charge at the gate, his voice trembling with outrage slathering every word. “You speak to this Qin Yuanjun like a mere mortal?!? Dismiss me like you are my better?!?!?!”

  Spoony's ear twitched at the decibel level. He leaned sideways to peer past guard guy’s quivering finger at the cowering townsfolk. "Buddy, you ever consider voice lessons?" he said, digging the shrimp cracker bag from his pocket. "I've got snacks that scream quieter than you."

  Defusing the situation with humor didn’t seem to work. Instead, the cultivator's face transitioned from lobster-red to aubergine-purple, his teeth clenching so hard he… did he bite his lip or something? His sleeve flapped he reached into his robes and yanked out a green token…? No, that looked like jade.

  Behind him, his companion was trying to get his attention by making frantic "abort mission" gestures the other guy wasn’t caring to notice or was too angry to notice. The longer this went on, the more desperate the other guy seemed to get, his eyes flickering to Spoony with growing alarm. Didn’t make sense when Zi-Zi was the one with the sword but, meh.

  "You will kneel before the White Oasis Pavilion's—"

  "Kneeling's bad for the joints."

  "YOU DARE—"

  A shrimp cracker bounced off his forehead with a plasticky clink. Guard guy's face twitched as if trying to decide whether to explode or implode.

  Spoony froze mid-throw, the bag dangling from his other hand. "…offer you complimentary hors d'oeuvres? Absolutely."

  Guard guy made a strangled noise somewhere between an angry roar and the sound of a lawnmower starting up. The jade token in his grip crackled with power, the air around it shimmering like a heat mirage. Spoony was pretty sure he saw something blue dance along its edge. The pressure came at Spoony again like a truck hidden inside another truck with yet another truck inside that; he felt it hit him way down deep, where cartoon physics met chaos theory and had tea parties instead of playing nice. His red cloak whipped around him, his fur and hair going poofy as if he'd stuck a fork in a socket.

  This time when guard guy spoke, his voice was low, dangerous, and carried like the sound of a rising tide. “I, Qin Yuanjun, challenge you to a duel. You could kowtow a hundred thousand times and not even begin to repay your insult. Speak you name before this daddy ends you.”

  Spoony didn’t have to think about it for very long. The sooner this was over with, the sooner people would stop getting pressed on. “Okay.”

  “Your NAME, worm.”

  “Well, my name is Pablo Steelknuckle Horatio Felidae Witherspoon the second and I don’t mind kicking a braying donkey’s butt from here to Timbuktu, new father or not-”

  "ENOUGH."

  The single word snapped out, cutting through the growing tension like a wave over a sandcastle. The pressure lifting made Spoony's insides do a wobbly, jiggly dance. The townsfolk and the caravan exhaled as one, kids uncurling like forgotten slinkies while adults glanced around sheepishly as if unsure how to react beyond comforting their children. He heard Zi-Zi clink behind him as she removed her hand from her weapon.

  As if by magic, an older man with a greying goatee appeared next to guard guy in a quiet flutter of fabric. His robes were the same color and just as grand but he made them seem dignified rather than too much. In his hand was another token… Spoony felt his eyes go back to the guy who’d been shouting. Correction, the exact same token.

  All at once, the man gave the item a quick shake and the energy went right out of it.

  Qin Yuanjun blinked at his empty hand for a moment, then spun as if ready to attack the man too, but went pale upon realizing who stood there. “Father! I-”

  “You will return to your post. We will talk later.”

  Qin Yuanjun’s eyes narrowed at Spoony, his face flickering between rage, humiliation, and something that looked unpleasantly like a resolve to get even. "As you say," he muttered, though it seemed to cost him dearly. His gaze swept over Zi-Zi and Xi-Di with ice-cold fury before jerking his head at the only just recovering guards, rubbing the center of his forhead. The guards unsteadily turned to follow him, their armor clanking like cutlery in a washing machine.

  The other guard guy —the less shouty, more panicked one—exhaled so deeply he looked like he might deflate entirely. He stepped forward, his identical sleeves rippling and who Spoony was now realizing had to be related to both. “Father, I tried to-”

  He was cut off by a raised hand. “The seed of wisdom grows slow in these lands. Your brother has yet to sprout even after all this time.”

  “I am Qin Weimin.” The older man gave Spoony a look, one that was considering and thoughtful as if trying to peer through a particularly puzzling fog. When he spoke, the hard edge to his voice wasn’t entirely gone but measured and respectful. “I apologize for my son’s behavior, and for the disrespect shown to your caravan.”

  “Uh.” Spoony almost wanted to say it wasn’t his caravan but one glance at Xi-Di, the old man clutching his chest and shoulders heaving as if trying to remember how to breathe, he figured actual caravan leader wasn’t up for much leading right now. “Yeah… thanks, I guess. You can call me, Spoony.”

  The old man raised an eyebrow. "You are stronger than you seem.” He observed.

  “Yeah. Well, my dad told me if you’re gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough. My mom said you don’t get tough without being smart. So, it all kinda evened out, I guess.”

  The man inclined his head. “Had I not intervened, would you have accepted his challenge?”

  “Dunno. You guys all for show?” Spoony was curious but not in the way that he cared to know or not.

  The old cultivator gave him a long, searching look before finally nodding to himself coming to some sort of decision. “I must extend an invitation to you and your student, Elder Spoony.”

  Zi-Zi made a choking sound so hard her bangles chimed., just as surprised as he was. “How did you know I was teaching someone?”

  Qin Weimin smiled with a hint of amusement, like he knew a little secret he was saving for later. "I believe a visit to the White Oasis Pavilion will prove both enlightening and advantageous for you both."

  The other shoe dropped down an elevator shaft and Spoony's tail flicked once, sharply, like a metronome set to "indignant." "Wait? Her?" He jerked a thumb at Zi-Zi who blushed at the incredulous pitch of his voice. “She’s not my student.”

  The older man frowned ever so slightly. “Then who…?”

  Spoony's ears swiveled toward Pan-Yang who was currently slumped against a wagon wheel fanning himself with a cabbage leaf. The 13-year-old’s eyes widened like a startled toad as Spoony's tail extended in his direction, pointing at him like a cobra. "Him. Obviously. Pan Luoyang."

  Qin Weimin's gaze drifted to the brown-haired boy who promptly dropped the cabbage leaf and stood at attention. Or tried to… The cabbage leaf fluttered to the ground as the boy scrambled upright to make himself look impressive, accidentally kicking a chicken that squawked indignantly and pecked his ankle. "Ow! I mean—honored elder! This humble one merely—"

  “This Pan Luoyang, greets the Elder of White Oasis.” Pan Luoyang squeaked making a noise halfway between a whimper and a hiccup, bowing even as he tried and failed to hide his nervousness. Zi-Zi discreetly covered her mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter that made her armor ring.

  "An... unconventional choice," Qin Weimin said slowly, then changed track. “The Pavilion's hospitality includes"—he paused, eyeing the half-crushed shrimp cracker bag—"refreshments suited to your... unique palate."

  "Deal." Spoony lobbed a cracker at Zi-Zi's surprised face. "C'mon, disciples of mine. Time to learn the sacred art of mooching free meals."

  The old man's eyelid twitched—a microscopic crack in his composure. Behind him, the less shouty son bit his sleeve to muffle a snort.

  Spoony moved to follow the pair and then remembered.

  “Also, your son’s got a shrimp allergy. Might wanna get that checked.”