*****

  Chapter Fourteen

  *****

  Argos sat in a padded, gold and green floral pattern chair, back in the cabin. Not long after they’d finished their coffee, Argos took Rivi back to the cabin so the cheetah could put his camera equipment away. Now, Argos watched Rivi as the cheetah agonized over which of his many suitcases to begin unpacking first. Rivi took one hardened case down, opened it, then closed it again and returned it to the overstuffed luggage cart. He removed another and carried it to the table. Then he opened it and dug through it, only to shake his head and put it back with the others again.

  “You looking for something in particular, Spots?” Argos drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

  Rivi glanced over, his ears set at uncertain angles. “Not entirely. I have an order to which I’d like to unpack certain things, but…” He moved a few cases around, studying the tags affixed to them. “I think some of those I’d normally want to unpack first are all down on the bottom.”

  Argos pointed to a bag holding some of Rivi’s clothing. “You already took clean clothes out of that this morning, right? Why not start with it?”

  “Because those are clothes I’ll wear on a daily basis.” Rivi shook his head. “Those should be hung in the front of the closet, not the back. It makes more sense if I take out my dress clothing that I may only wear occasionally, and place that towards the back. Or, rather…” He licked his muzzle, his spotted tail twitching. “I should put my summer clothes at the very back, since I’m unlikely to wear any of those during this winter voyage.”

  Argos scowled, his ears flat. “If you ain’t gonna wear them, why even unpack them?”

  “Well, because…” Rivi trailed off. He looked back and forth from his piled luggage to the closet a few times. “Isn’t it rather uncouth to leave your clothes packed away for months at a time?”

  Argos blinked. “I dunno. Is it?”

  “Not to mention, everything is folded in such a way as to conserve space.” Rivi unstacked a few suitcases. “I shouldn’t want anything to end up with a permanent crease.”

  Argos leaned his head back against the chair. “They got irons on board, Rivi.”

  “I’m certain that they do,” Rivi said, popping open a case. He studied the neatly folded clothing inside. “But if I leave this packed up all voyage, then the iron in our cabin won’t do me any good, will it.”

  Argos held his hands up, chuckling. “You do things however you want, Rivi. I’m just trying to save you a little extra work, and a little extra closet space.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Rivi smiled at the coyote. “I’m sorry I’m so fastidious.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Argos said. “That’s just who you are. Lemme know if you need any help, though.”

  Rivi pushed the open case aside, then set another next to it. “If you want, you could begin unpacking some of my scrapbooks from my trip, so far.” The cheetah set his hands on his hips, scanning the giant pile of baggage. “I think those are in numbers fourteen through seventeen.”

  Argos’s eyes widened. “You have four entire cases full of scrapbooks already?”

  “Not only scrapbooks.” Rivi removed a few other cases, setting them aside. “Here’s number fourteen. It has most of my journey’s documentation, so far, along with number fifteen. Sixteen and seventeen have a lot of empty books and blank documents, for now. I suspect I shall have to purchase even more cases in the future, however.”

  “I’m shocked.” Argos stood up, and joined the cheetah. “Just to be clear…” He pointed at the case labeled as number fourteen. “You want me to unpack that for you?”

  Rivi grunted, hefting the heavy case. “Only if you’d like.” He turned towards Argos, holding the case in both arms. “Mostly because I thought…” The cheetah licked his muzzle, glancing aside. “Perhaps you’d enjoy sharing in some of my experiences, so far.” He swallowed. “Of course, my journey will surely seem ever so boring to someone with your worldly experiences.” He cleared his throat, tail swishing. “It was probably a foolish idea.”

  “Not at all, Spots.” Argos gently took the heavy case from the cheetah. “I’d love to hear about your pilgrimage.”

  Rivi’s ears perked up, and a smile slowly returned to his blunt, feline muzzle. “You would?”

  “I’d be delighted.” He turned away, carrying to the center of the room. “You want me to just unpack this stuff onto the table, for now?”

  “Yes, that would work.” Rivi removed a few more numbered cases, and put them aside. “We won’t go through all of it tonight, but I can show you a few of the highlights.” He glanced at the coyote over his shoulder. “Do you suppose this vessel has darkroom facilities?”

  Argos put the suitcase on the table. Then he pushed the welcome basket and other edible items aside, making a little more room. “They definitely do. They can develop your film for you, if you want. Or they’ll give you access to their darkrooms if you’d rather do it yourself.”

  “As much as I enjoy developing my own photographs,” Rivi said, carrying a second case over to the table. “For convenience’s sake I should probably hire them to do so for me.” He placed the hardened bag next to its companion, then patted it with a gloved hand. “This one contains some of my more recent misadventures.” Rivi flicked an ear back. “I’m not sure if I should share my more contemporary ramblings, given how angst-ridden I was, after my abandonment.”

  Argos only smiled at the cheetah. “Share whatever you’re comfortable with, Spots.” He gestured at the cheetah’s golden gloves. “And speaking of comfort, you can take those off, you know. I promise not to do anything lascivious, like hold your ungloved hand.”

  Rivi blinked, lifting up his hands. He stared at his gloves with his head tilted and a slightly confused expression on his face. It was as if he’d only just realized his gloves were even there. “Oh. Yes, I suppose that would be more comfortable.” The cheetah tugged at the fingers of his gloves, loosening them. “I’m so used to wearing them in public lately, I tend to forget I can remove them in private.”

  Argos chuckled, his tail swishing. “Yeah, the last thing you gotta be with me is formal. But…” He held a hand up. “Whatever makes you comfortable. You wear those in public back home, too?”

  “Often, but not always.” Rivi pulled off one of his gloves, and set it on the table. Then he loosened up the fingers on the other. “When we’re strictly amongst felines of the Church, we’re far less likely to experience unexpected physical contact, or the need to touch a stranger. Gloves are considered part of polite attire in general, but if you’re, say…” He pulled his second glove free, flexing his spotted hand. “Strolling about in the park, you certainly needn’t wear them.”

  “Makes sense.” Argos gestured at Rivi’s hands. “They probably make it hard for you felines to use your claws, too. I’d wager that’s the idea, right?”

  Rivi nodded. “That’s correct.” Rivi rubbed his thumb into his other palm pad. “It’s generally considered quite impolite to unsheathe one’s claws in public.”

  A smirk twitched at the corners of Argos’s mouth. “Yeah, being unsheathed in public is generally frowned upon in most societies, actually.”

  “Really?” Rivi glanced up, his ears splayed. “But canine ones don’t have sheaths, do they?”

  Argos fought back laughter. “Oh, they definitely do. Our claws aren’t retractable, though.”

  Rivi blinked. “That’s what I’m saying. Yours don’t unsheathe…” He trailed off, then quickly spun away, the inside of his ears flushing crimson. A bubbling giggle escaped him, tail twitching in frantic, off-time rhythm. “Were you making a bawdy innuendo?”

  “Yes, Spots,” Argos said, grinning. “I was.”

  “You’re so bad!” Rivi spun back around, swatting Argos’s arm. “You’re going to get me in so much trouble.”

  “Only if you want me to.” Argos just smiled, folding his arms.

  “I’m not sure what I want, when I’m around you.” Rivi sighed, a sound as full of scarcely-hidden longing as it was deep uncertainty. “Half the things you say, and the kind way with which you treat me? It upends everything in my head.”

  “That’s okay.” Argos gently squeezed the cheetah’s arm. “You got plenty of time to sort things out…” He lifted his hand higher, and held his hand towards Rivi’s head. When the cheetah did not pull away, Argos smoothed back one of his ears. The feline’s fur was short, but soft as silk. “I know you’re a jumble of confusion up here, Spots. And it ain’t my intention to step on your beliefs, or tell you your people are wrong. You take all the time you need to try and work things out. And if I can help you do that, just let me know.”

  Rivi ever so slightly leaned his head into Argos’s touch. It was an almost imperceptible motion, as if the cheetah were afraid to allow himself to enjoy even the slightest bit of affection. “Thank you, Argos. You…” He swallowed. “You’ve already helped, actually.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Argos stroked Rivi’s head again, enjoying the warmth and softness of the cheetah’s fur. Eventually, he pulled his hand back. “And don’t worry about your claws around me, either. I ain’t gonna take offense or nothin’, if you start waving them around. It was kinda fun getting to see them earlier. Usually if I see a feline’s claws come out, it’s cause I’m in a fight.”

  Rivi sighed again when Argos retracted his arm, but the sound was happier now, and more content. “Do you want to see them again? I don’t mind unsheathing, for you.” Rivi paused a beat before he realized what he’d said. He gasped, his eyes wide. “My claws! Unsheathe my claws, I meant. J-just my claws!” He hissed at himself, balling up his fists. “Stupid Rivi! Why can’t you ever just say the right thing? We sound like a boozed up drunkard who can’t stop thinking with his crotch!”

  “Spots…” Argos grasped Rivi’s arm again, trying not to laugh. “You definitely don’t sound like that. Besides, I knew what you meant.”

  Rivi huffed, his shoulders sagging. “I just…hate it when I can’t get my words right. Especially around you.”

  “We all say the wrong thing, sometimes.” He rubbed the cheetah’s upper arm. “It’s not worth beating yourself up, over. And to answer your question, yes.” The coyote’s smirk returned. “I do want to see you unsheathe…” He paused a breath. “Your claws.”

  The cheetah gulped audibly. A fresh crimson waved washed across the inside of his ears. Rivi stared up at Argos, his jaws working in silence. It was clear the cheetah wanted to offer a witty retort, to tease Argos the same way Argos teased him. Argos could nearly see the words forming behind his eyes. Just my claws? But try as the cheetah might, he couldn’t quite seem to force those same words across his tongue.

  Instead, Rivi soon gave up trying to speak. He closed his muzzle, and made a show of slowly raising his spotted hands. Rivi held them up with his black pads facing the coyote. He waggled his fingers in a slow, waving motion, then gradually released his claws from within their hidden confines. The cheetah’s sharp white claws slide free at a glacial pace, progressively revealing more and more of their curved forms. If Argos didn’t know better, he’d think Rivi was using his claws to tease the coyote in ways he couldn’t quite bring himself to do with words. Then again, Argos thought, given the way Rivi had started catching onto some of his dirtier jokes, perhaps he wasn’t entirely off base.

  A lopsided grin stretched over the coyote’s muzzle. “That’s a pretty sensual way to show off your claws, Spots.”

  “Was it?” Rivi tilted his head, returning an all-too-innocent smile. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “No, I’m sure you wouldn’t.” Argos eased slightly closer, till Rivi’s hands were nearly touching him. “Look at those gorgeous little knives.” He lifted his hand hand, extending a single finger towards one of Rivi’s claws. “May I?”

  The cheetah nodded. “Just be careful.” Something shivery crept into Rivi’s voice. “They’re ever so sharp.”

  “I’ll be careful.” Argos pressed a single finger pad against the tip of Rivi’s forefinger claw. As promised, the feline’s claw was incredibly sharp. “Oh yeah, that really is like a little knife. Wish my claws did this.”

  Rivi’s smile faded. “I shouldn’t let you toy with them too much. It could be dangerous.”

  Argos set his jaw. He knew Rivi wasn’t really talking about his claws, now. “Don’t worry, Spots. Ain’t no one ever gonna hurt you while I’m around.”

  The cheetah swallowed. His eyes shifted away from Argos. “It’s not just that. Some of my people wouldn’t appreciate you tempting the Wandering Scholar with impurity the way you do.”

  The coyote stilled. His breath caught in his throat. Rivi was worried about him? All the scorn, and shame, and pain the cheetah’s people had heaped upon him, and yet it wasn’t another sadistic salvation ceremony that Rivi feared. It was that they’d try to harm Argos for tempting the cheetah in the first place. Argos whimpered, his arms dropping to his sides. That was so damn selfless it almost hurt.

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  “I-I’m sorry,” Rivi said, quickly pulling his claws back. “Did I say the wrong thing? I didn’t mean to offend you! I only meant-”

  “You didn’t say nothing wrong, Spots.” Argos swallowed, taking a steadying breath. “Nothing at all. It’s just…” The coyote barked incredulous laughter. “Somehow, your soul just keeps getting’ sweeter. You might be the kindest-hearted goddamn person I ever met.”

  “Hardly.” Rivi rubbed his arm, his tail flicking in an agitated pace. “I just wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, and try to hurt you, thinking they were protecting me.”

  “Lemme make something clear, Spots.” Argos held up a single finger, shaking it at the cheetah. “Anyone who tries to hurt me, is gonna end up in the infirmary.”

  Rivi wrung his hands. “What about that lion? The one you didn’t like the way he was looking at me. What if he thought you were leading the Wandering Scholar astray, and decided to bring a few dozen of his biggest friends to put a stop to it?”

  “Then the infirmary’s gonna need more beds.” Argos’s voice was flat. He reached for Rivi’s hand, only to remember he wasn’t supposed to touch the cat’s pads. Instead, he clasped Rivi’s forearm, staring into his eyes. Behind the cheetah’s thick spectacles, fear and uncertainty swirled inside his gorgeous, red-gold eyes. “Listen, Spots. I know your head’s trying to lead you off into all the worst-case scenarios. And I know how hard it can be to break free of that cycle. And it ain’t fair for so pure a soul as you, to be so afflicted with all that worry and doubt. You deserve better than that, Rivi, and I aim to help you find it, for as long as we’re on this ship together.”

  Rivi managed a little smile. “Thank you, Argos.”

  “Least I can do.” He rubbed the cheetah’s arm again. “Now, I appreciate you worryin’ for my wellbeing. But please, Spots, don’t trouble yourself about me. I promise you, I ain’t in danger here.” Argos took a slow breath. “I’m gonna tell you something, I wouldn’t normally say. It sounds arrogant, and I try not to come across that way too often. But I want you to believe me when I tell you this, alright?”

  Rivi nodded. “Go ahead.”

  Argos leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a menacing whisper. “Ain’t no one on this ship I’m afraid of, Spots. Not the guards, not the soldiers, not even Iosa. And I sure as shit ain’t scared of your people. If anything, your people…” A growl twisted Argos’s words. “Should be scared of me.”

  The cheetah shivered, his eyes wide and ears flattened. “When you say it like that, I believe it.”

  Argos straightened up. “Sorry if that was too much.”

  Rivi held his thumb and finger a tiny distance apart. “Perhaps just an iota too much. It was sort of frightening, but also exhilarating. You can be quite intimidating, when you wish to be.”

  “Comes with the territory,” Argos said. He held his hands up, his tail tucked low. “I hope I didn’t scare ya, Spots. I apologize if I did. Just trying to make it clear you don’t gotta worry about me.”

  “No, no, I understand.” Rivi swallowed, shifting his weight. “I do hope you’re right. And no, you didn’t frighten me. I just didn’t expect to be growled at by a menacing coyote.” The cheetah rubbed the back of his neck, ruffling his spotted fur. He muttered under his breath. “We didn’t wholly dislike it though, did we Rivi?”

  Argos lifted a single ear. “Oh, really?”

  Rivi froze. “Please tell me I didn’t say that last part out loud.”

  The coyote shrugged. “Didn’t hear anything.” He made a show of turning away from Rivi, and focusing his attention on the suitcases. “On an unrelated note, if you ever want a ‘menacing coyote’ to growl into your ear some night, just lemme know. I’d be happy to oblige.”

  Rivi coughed sharply, then followed Argos’s lead, and turned towards the table. “I’ve certainly no idea what you’re suggesting.”

  “Just like you had no idea how unsheathing your claws so slowly and teasingly was gonna come across, right?” Argos undid the latches of the suitcase in front of him.

  “Yes,” Rivi said, smiling at no one in particular. “Precisely that.” He looked over his shoulder towards the piles of luggage. “I haven’t gotten very far on my unpacking, have I?”

  Argos laughed, turning back towards the cheetah. “Save it for tomorrow. You wanted to show me some of your scrapbooks, right?”

  Rivi undid the second suitcases’s latches, excitement rising anew in his voice. “Oh, certainly! At least until you get bored to tears with my dry and overly wordy narration.”

  “That ain’t gonna happen.” Argos crossed his arms. “Why don’t we do that tonight? As rough as your last month has been, I figure you could use some time to just relax in the room, and decompress. We gotta hang around and wait for all your newspapers to show up, anyway. We may as well make a night of it.”

  Rivi scratched at his chin. “You mean, the entire evening?”

  “Yeah, why not?” Argos swished his tail, bumping it up against the table’s leg. “We could order some room service, have a few drinks, look through your scrapbooks. You can tell me about that bartender lion, if you want.”

  Rivi made a happy mewling noise. “That does sound like a pleasant way to relax. Very well, I accept.” He bounced on his toes. “It’s a date!” Then the cheetah blinked, his ears splaying. “I mean, as in an appointment. Not as in…” Rivi cleared his throat a few times. “The other sort of date.”

  Argos only smiled. “Not like anyone would know if it was both, anyway.”

  “I-I suppose not,” Rivi said. He snatched up his tail, wringing it in his hands. “Though, I don’t think I should be indulging in…well…”

  “Relax, Spots.” Argos eased away from the table, and walked towards the nearby desk. “I’m only teasing you.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “We’ve only known each other two days, after all. We oughta give it at least a week before we start dating.”

  Rivi nearly swallowed his tongue. He coughed sharply, staggering backwards a few paces before he caught his balance. His words came out as little more than an embarrassed squeak. “I’ll keep that in mind!”

  Argos laughed as he dug through the desk drawers. All sorts of brochures and information filled them. Eventually, he located a first-class room service menu, and carried it back to Rivi. “I think this orders from the primary first-class dining hall, but I’m not sure. Some of the other dining halls and restaurants will also deliver food to rooms, but we’ll have to fetch menus from them on our own.”

  “I’m certain this shall suffice, for now.” Rivi took the menu, looking it over. “I’ll try to remember to pick up other bills of fare when I’m out and about on the ship.” He scanned it for a few moments, his swiveling with his thoughts. “Oh, roasted ocean bream sounds nice. Though, I’m not yet especially hungry.”

  “No hurry.” Argos opened up the hard-shell case labeled number fourteen. Inside were neatly arranged books of various sizes, some thick and hardbound, others smaller and wrapped in leather. There were also stacks of envelopes, postcards, newspaper articles, photographs, and other documents. “Is there any particular order to this stuff?”

  “Yes!” Rivi glanced over at the open case. “Everything is arranged in order of ascertainment, and chronological…” He trailed off, scrunching his muzzle. “Actually, for our purposes, you can just take out the two largest books, along with the associated journals.” Rivi pointed to some of the smaller, leatherbound tomes. “That’s those.”

  “Got it.” Argos removed the items in question, and set them out on the table. He pushed the case out of the way, then took the other one from Rivi. “Same thing in here?”

  “Yes, please.” Rivi opened up the case, then indicated its contents. “The two large scrapbooks, and the two journals next to them. There’s a host of other things I’ve collected, travel vouchers, bills of clean health, permits, newspaper headlines I found fascinating, and so on. But these…” He patted one of the hardcover books. “Contain the majority of the photographs of my journey so far. The journals continue the fine details of my daily trials and tribulations, though I fear most of my entries for the last month might not be suitable for good company.”

  Argos removed the photo albums and set them with the others. “I can only imagine. If I was in your place and abandoned by my guide, I’d write some pretty salty journal entries too.”

  Rivi chuckled. “Well, considering that my superiors in the church may someday wish to read my notes, I did try to keep the foul language to a minimum. But I certainly made my displeasure alone. Honestly…” He flicked his ears back. “It’s more the morose entries I’d not want you to read.” Rivi cleared his throat, then adopted a dramatic, theatrical tone. “Still traveling alone. Afraid I’m lost. Worried I may never finish my pilgrimage. Curse that cowardly Fafren evermore!”

  Argos scratched his neck, ruffling the thick gray and tan fur. “That’s hardly morose. If anything, it’s stoic. Morose would be more like…” Argos turned towards Rivi, shifting his voice into something whinier, and more melodramatic. “Oh, dreadful day! I remain lost amidst the endless snow! Surely, I shall perish here, but not until I’ve lost my toes, one by one. I fear my tail, too, shall be taken by the frost before I draw my final breath. That damnable Fafren has doomed me to a lonely end, and I have but to await the cold embrace of the inevitable!”

  Rivi stared at him, wide-eyed behind his spectacles. “That was actually quite good, Argos! And, if I’m honest…” The cheetah rubbed his pads together. “Probably more in line with my actual thoughts at the time than some of the words I put to page.”

  “Yeah, I kinda figured.” Argos took Rivi’s journals out of his luggage, and then set them with his other unpacked belongings. Then he closed up the case, and piled it atop the first. “Speaking of Fafren, you happen to have any photographs of him?”

  “A good few, at least.” Rivi pointed to the first two scrapbooks. “In there. Why do you ask?”

  Argos snorted, his tail swishing. “Just curious. Don’t suppose you’d mind if I happened to, say, have a facsimile of one made, would you?”

  “I don’t see why not, as long as…” Rivi trailed off, then sucked in a little breath. “Wait, you’re not going to…” He waggled his fingers. “Secret policeman him, are you?”

  The coyote lifted an ear. “Is that a verb, now?”

  “I get the feeling it is when you’re involved.” Rivi scowled, his tail tip twitching. “I dread to think what might befall Fafren should you stumble upon him.”

  “Then don’t think about it.” Argos ran a hand back over his ears, smoothing them. “He ain’t gonna get nothing he don’t deserve.”

  The cheetah gave a nervous mewl. “As much as I dislike him, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you and your people pursuing some sort of vendetta against him, either. Besides, I’ve already dispatched letters to the Church, who I’m sure will pursue legal actions.”

  “Legal actions, huh?” Argos adjusted his sleeves. “I dunno, Spots. Kinda seems like your people would either give him a slap on the wrist, or make him wish I’d found him first. I’d just knock him around for a while. Depending on your Church sends, he might just vanish.”

  Rivi nodded. “Yes, I’m certainly he’ll never be offered guide services employment again when my fellows are through with him.”

  Argos clenched his jaw. After a moment’s consideration, he decided against clarifying what he meant. The coyote saw no reason to crush Rivi’s delusions of his own people’s merciful nature. But if Rivi was as connected to the church’s hierarchy as Argos assumed, he doubted they would let his abandonment slide. Fafren was as likely to end up in the bottom of a lake with an anchor around his body and a bullet in his head as he was to languish in some feline dungeon.

  Something about that whole situation still didn’t add up to Argos. If the pilgrimage was as important as Rivi’s words and minor fame made it seem, then surely they would have taken more precautions to ensure it was completed. Granted, the Church could not have foreseen the various cavalcade of disasters that led to Fafren’s abandonment of Rivi. And yet he could only imagine they would have had other safety protocols in place. Or at the very least, hired the sort of person they knew would never leave Rivi behind, no matter the hardships they faced.

  Argos could not help but wonder if someone else had betrayed Rivi, and instructed Fafren to abandon him. While he had no intention of suggesting such to the cheetah, Argos couldn’t help but consider the idea. Why they might do such a thing he did not know, but they were certainly plenty of possibilities. Perhaps it was a test, unknown to the Scholar, in which he was secretly expected to complete the journal entirely on his own. Then when he returned home, he’d be all the more beacon of feline strength and perseverance, a powerful propaganda tool for his Church.

  Then again, if this was about propaganda, there were far more disconcerting possibilities. Perhaps someone wanted their Wandering Scholar to fail. Then they could rage and proselytize to their captive people all the more about the evils of the cold, cruel world beyond their borders. If the scholar were secretly intended to fail their pilgrimage, it would help explain why they’d sent someone as openly na?ve as Rivi. Perhaps he’d already surpassed their expectations just by making it this far. Despite the situation he’d first saved the cheetah from, Rivi had already proven to possess a powerful determination, just by making it this far on his own. If that was the case, when Rivi made it home, they’d probably have Fafren eliminated just to tie up loose ends and ensure Rivi never discovered the truth.

  Argos wished he had more to go on than simple speculation and suspicious circumstances. The coyote knew all too well it was entirely possible that Rivi was correct. And that the pilgrimage was simply meant for a lone scholar, assisted only by a singular porter. Fafren might have just turned out to be the wrong hire, and nothing more. It grated on Argos that he might never know, one way or another. He needed to talk to Iosa about it. Hell, Argos might well send a message to the Guild to have them look into things on his behalf, before he parted ways with Rivi. If it seemed like the cheetah would be in danger without him, then Argos would ensure he was properly protected before they separated.

  “Are you alright, Argos?” Rivi tilted his head, his ears splayed to odd angles. “You’re giving me quite a look.”

  “Sorry, Spots.” Argos took the menu back and busied himself looking it over. “Was just thinking about how much it pisses me off that Fafren left you behind.”

  Rivi made a little growling noise, his tail flicking again. “Yes, my anger was also quite roused for a good, long while. But it’s all in the past now, Argos.” Rivi gently brushed his fingers over Argos’s arm. “You needn’t worry yourself about it.”

  “I ain’t worried, just…” Argos gripped the menu a little too tightly, crumpling its edges. “Nevermind, Spots. We could probably put an order in for food ahead of time, and have it delivered in a couple hours. How’s that sound?”

  “That would be just about perfect, yes.” Rivi moved closer to peer at the menu. “Do you suppose they also deliver alcohol? I wouldn’t mind a bottle of lager or two.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem.” Argos offered the cheetah the menu again. “You want anything else besides some beers and the ocean bream?”

  “Perhaps some of those fried potatoes we had last night?” Rivi pointed to them on the menu. “Those were quite good.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good.” Argos glanced at the offerings. “I think I’m gonna have the goose. You want anything for dessert?”

  Rivi ran his finger down the menu, then indicated one of the desserts. “The cream cake, I think.” Then he lifted his eyes back to the coyote. “How do we order?”

  “I’ll show you.” Argos waved for Rivi to follow him, walking towards the desk built into the wall. He opened one of the larger drawers, revealing an ebony-hued telephone kept inside. Pearl inlay marked its receiver, handset, and the rotary dial. “You can call just about anywhere in the ship, with this. The numbers are in this.” He tapped a small red book sitting next to the telephone. “Room service number for us is also on our menu.”

  “That’s quite ingenious!” Rivi picked up the handset, turning it over. “I’ve never been on an airship with a telephone in every room!”

  “Probably not every room,” Argos said. “But every first class room, at least.” He opened the book, and pointed to the number to dial for room service orders. “You wanna call it in?”

  “Oh, certainly.” Rivi started to dial the number, then paused. “What do I tell them?”

  “Give them the room number, and tell them you’d like to place an order to be delivered two hours from now.” Argos set the menu in front of the cheetah for reference. “Goose for me, and whatever you want.”

  Rivi finished dialing. As the phone rang, he bounced on his toes a few times. Argos had never seen someone so excited just to use a telephone. Between that, and Rivi’s excitement over newspapers, he was starting to wonder just what the felines did have access too. Someone soon answered, and as Rivi spoke, he beamed so widely it was as if he felt himself in the middle of some historic communication, and not just ordering dinner. He gave them his name and room number, his words nearly running into one another in his enthusiasm. Rivi ordered their entrees and drinks, and then the potatoes, but nearly forgot his own dessert entirely. Argos tapped it on the menu to remind him. Then he held up two fingers to remind the cheetah they didn’t want an immediate delivery.

  Finally, the cheetah hung up. He turned towards the coyote, a silly grin still plastered across his muzzle. “How did I do, Argos?”

  Argos couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You ordered dinner like a champion, Spots.”

  Rivi pushed the phone back into its space. “Thank you! I suppose while we wait, I could unpack more clothing, and things.”

  “Or,” Argos said, sweeping his hand towards the sofa. “We could flop down on the couch together, and you could walk me through that first photo album.”

  Rivi gulped, glancing across the room. “Both of us? Together? On the sofa? N-next to each other?”

  “That was my thought, yeah.” Argos gently ushered Rivi back towards the table. “Easier to look at a book together that way, after all.”

  “Yes, I, um…” Rivi rubbed the back of his neck, ruffling the fur across several spots. “I suppose that’s true.”

  “Unless you’re not comfortable sitting next to me in private.” Argos held his hands up. “I’m happy to sit in one of the chairs, instead.”

  Rivi quickly shook his head. “No, that’s alright. The sofa would be…” Rivi glanced between the couch and Argos a few times, a shy smile slowly parting his muzzle. “Acceptable.”

  “Good.” Argos picked up the first photo album, and tucked it under his arm. “Well then…” He swept his other hand towards the sofa. “Shall we?”

  “Yes,” Rivi said, his smile growing. “We shall.”