The morning sun painted golden stripes across Kael's face through the cracks of the dipidated barn. Something warm and wet dragged across his cheek. He opened one eye to find the Chaos Panda's snout inches from his face, its pickle-den breath fogging up his vision.

  "Ugh... morning breath already?" Kael groaned, wiping his face as he sat up. A piece of hay stuck stubbornly to his still-faintly-glowing hair - the Moon Fox's prank from three days ago was proving annoyingly persistent.

  Nearby, the fox was performing its eborate morning grooming ritual, pausing only to comment, *"You sound like a dying goat when you snore."*

  Kael's stomach answered before he could, growling loud enough to startle a sparrow from the rafters. "Alright team, today we—"

  The panda sneezed violently, spraying half-digested flower petals across Kael's tunic in a colorful explosion.

  "Right. Breakfast first."

  The Oakroot morning market was in full swing when they arrived, the scent of fresh bread making Kael's mouth water. But their reputation had clearly spread - the baker physically pulled his cart three stalls away when he spotted them, while the fruit vendor made warding signs with her fingers as the panda waddled near.

  "Come on!" Kael protested, jingling the four coppers in his pouch - their entire fortune after repcing the inn's goose-damaged curtains yesterday. "We can pay this time!"

  The fox yawned, tail flicking. *"Just steal something. You're already a wanted pickle thief."*

  After prolonged negotiations (and the panda deploying its most heartbreaking "starving cub" eyes), they secured:

  - One slightly stale loaf (half price after the baker took pity)

  - Three overripe apples (free from the grocer's discard pile)

  - A handful of carrot tops (thrown in after the panda tried to eat the grocer's apron)

  They ate by the town fountain, the panda managing to look both pleased and deeply disappointed as it nibbled carrot greens. Kael watched townsfolk give them a wide berth and sighed. "We really need to work on our public image."

  The fox licked apple juice from its paws. *"I have an excellent image. You two are the problems."*

  Determined to make some progress, Kael cpped his hands. "Today we're working on basic hygiene!"

  The fox's ears fttened against its skull. *"Absolutely not."*

  Two hours ter found them standing outside the bathhouse, thoroughly banned for life. The panda had somehow flooded the washing area, the fox's fur was fluffed up to three times its normal size, and Kael clutched the remains of a scrub brush, his clothes soaked through with soapy water.

  "You," the bathhouse owner seethed, pointing a trembling finger, "are worse than the goose."

  At least they smelled better. Mostly.

  Under the shade of a sprawling oak at the town's edge, Kael attempted actual beast training. "Okay, Panda - defensive stance!"

  The panda blinked its big eyes, then flopped onto its back, paws curled in the air like an overgrown cub.

  "Fox - distraction maneuver!"

  The fox yawned and made Kael see butterflies. Just for him. No one else.

  Lia found them like this hours ter - Kael covered in grass stains, the panda asleep with a daisy banced on its belly, the fox pretending not to care but clearly enjoying the sunbeam it had cimed.

  "You're hopeless," she said, but there was something almost fond in the way she tossed an apple at Kael's head.

  As evening fell, they approached The Drunken Minstrel tavern, where a fresh carving beneath the sign now read: "NO PANDAS. (OR FOXES. OR THAT GUY WITH THE RAINBOW HAIR.)"

  Kael sighed. "That's... specific."

  The fox sniffed. *"We're infamous. I approve."*

  Inside, the tavern's warmth enveloped them - the crackle of the hearth, the off-key strumming of a bard who'd clearly had one too many ales, the rich smell of stew. Every conversation stuttered to a halt as dozens of eyes locked onto them.

  Innkeeper Harl pointed his wooden spoon like a sword. "Out."

  Kael's stomach growled loud enough to rattle nearby tankards.

  Harl hesitated.

  Lia, already seated at a corner table with a steaming meat pie, called out: "They're with me!"

  Harl's eye twitched. "That makes it worse."

  After intense negotiations (and Lia sliding three extra silvers across the bar), they were relegated to the "Shame Corner" - a wobbly table near the privy that smelled faintly of ale and poor decisions. The panda was confined to the floor ("No more chair thefts"), the fox banned from hypnotizing patrons ("Again"), and Kael forbidden from "accidentally" lighting things on fire (which had actually been Lia's doing).

  The stew arrived in a chipped bowl, thick with carrots and dubious meat chunks. The fox eyed it with aristocratic disdain. *"This is peasant slop."*

  "It's food," Kael muttered, already spooning it into his mouth.

  The panda had been given a wooden trough usually reserved for dogs. It stared at the stew, then at Kael, then delicately dipped one paw in and licked it.

  Lia snorted. "Wow. Even your panda has standards."

  Nearby, a group of farmers whispered not-so-subtly:

  "Are they training for the Capital Games?"

  "Looks more like a traveling circus."

  "That panda ate my cousin's fence st week!"

  The fox's ears perked up. *"We should charge admission."*

  The drunk bard, spotting Kael's glowing hair, stumbled over and began strumming:

  "Ohhh, the tamer came to town~

  With beasts so wild and freeeee~

  One ate a house~

  One stole my spouse~

  And the third—"

  Kael threw a bread crust at him. "We didn't steal your spouse!"

  The bard gasped dramatically. "Yet!"

  The entire tavern roared with ughter, mugs banging on tables. Even Harl cracked a smile as he refilled their ale.

  As the night wore on, something unexpected happened. The grandmotherly spice merchant slipped the panda a honey cake ("Such a sweet, hungry thing!"). The bcksmith, after three ales, admitted he envied Kael's fox familiar ("Mine just brings me dead mice. Yours does magic!"). And the bard, now thoroughly pickled, composed an entirely new verse praising the Moon Fox's beauty (which it preened at, despite itself).

  Lia watched Kael's surprised expression and smirked. "What? Thought you'd be run out of town by now?"

  Kael opened his mouth—

  CRASH.

  The panda, attempting to climb onto the table for more stew, had upended it onto a very unfortunate chicken.

  Harl's spoon came down like a gavel. "OUT."

  They were halfway out the door when a harried courier burst in, panting. "Kael the Disaster Tamer?"

  The tavern erupted in cheers.

  The royal seal gleamed as Kael cracked it open. The message was brutally brief:

  "Games moved to tomorrow.

  P.S. The judges remember the hat."

  Silence. Then—

  Fox: *"We're going to die."*

  Panda: *[Chewing the expensive parchment happily.]*

  Lia: *"I'll bring popcorn."*

  As they stood in the moonlit road, Kael looked down at his mismatched team - the vain fox, the disaster panda, and the mage who somehow kept choosing to be around them. Despite everything - the failed training, the constant chaos, the looming Games - he felt an unexpected warmth in his chest.

  The fox narrowed its eyes. *"Stop looking sentimental. You still owe me duck."*

  And with that, they disappeared into the night, the sounds of the tavern's ughter trailing after them.