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Levent Kartal · 12-03-2011, 11:06 AM

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“No, I don’t think the dead would provide me with the advice I need,” Levent laughed, holding his ribs as if to contain his mirth. Those that had already died wouldn’t be able to tell him how to live forever; the irony made his grin broaden. He reached over and stroked Wilson’s pale fur, which made the cat relax slightly and let out a tentative purr, and shrugged. “Do not worry about my goals. Most of the time I take life day by day. Too much planning, and your existence becomes a course on a straight line; you might as well be in limbo.” He firmly believed in living life to the fullest, whether it meant joking with Wilson or sleeping in all day or going out to the incense-heavy festivals spotted all over Europe.

The tomcat rubbed against his friend’s hand fondly, at least until the woman’s blunt suggestion made him freeze and whip his head toward the dog. Panicked, he glanced to the male wolf, whose grin softened and grew wicked once more.

“Lev—” Wilson meowed.

“Relax,” Levent insisted. He knew why the cat was concerned—it’d be all too easy to slip a knife in his ribs at such a close proximity—but he knew that Amy might have tried to kill him already. After all, he was new in this place and had hardly noticed her before she’d greeted him, if not for the attitude of the other merchants. He tried to make a reassuring sound in Low Speech, but the cat shook his head and leaped under the table, sneaking off somewhere he could be safe while his companion was preoccupied. Levent pretended he hadn’t seen the tom’s hurt expression.

“After you,” the brown wolf said, smiling at Amy.

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