“Squeak….”
Having settled his churning stomach, the otter exhaled slowly and sank into thought. Rutilian is a Knight of the Therianthrope Knight Order. So to find him, he’d need to find the Knight Order — and the Knight Order was…
Inside the royal palace.
The otter hopped off the slowly moving cart and began weaving through the crowd. Back in the village, people’s stares had been noticeable, but not enough to really bother him. The stares he felt now, however, were more than enough to make him flinch.
The people of the capital weren’t looking at him with curiosity — they were looking at him like something filthy. Being mistaken for a weasel would’ve been better than this. The looks they gave him were as if they’d spotted an enormous sewer rat. The revulsion was palpable.
“Squeak… squeak….”
Wilting under gazes he’d never experienced before, the otter ducked into an alley for a moment and waited for the people to pass. But whether it was the same in this world too, the crowd showed no sign of thinning — if anything, the streets were only growing more congested.
Bark—!
“Eek?!”
A sudden ferocious snarl behind him made the otter whip around in fright, only to find a large dog growling at him. Whether dog or wolf, canines clearly had it out for otters.
Why is it always me!
Gulping hard, the otter took a breath, turned his back on the dog, and bolted. He darted nimbly through the crowd on his quick little legs — his one saving grace — desperately trying to shake the dog off his tail.
“Squeeeak!”
Screams erupted wherever the otter ran. He desperately wanted someone to help him, but instead of helping, everyone was too busy scrambling out of the way themselves. After weaving between buildings and barely managing to lose the dog, the otter pressed himself against a stack of wooden crates and caught his breath.
“Squeak, squeak….”
Heartless city people. But where even am I now? The air here felt distinctly different from before. He glanced around, trying to get his bearings.
The otter’s small eyes went wide and round at the sight of a grand castle in the distance. So that’s the royal palace. A stroke of luck amid misfortune — it seemed he’d fled in the right direction after all.
“Squeak…!”
Once his breathing steadied, he found the strength to move again. Rutilian. The more he thought about that man, the more anxious he felt. He was back on all fours, scurrying toward the castle at full speed, when he spotted two Knights standing guard at the castle gate and skidded to a halt.
Two Knights armed with long spears were blocking the massive castle gate. How am I supposed to get through there? The otter swallowed hard, expression turning serious.
In this world, Therianthropes and humans live side by side. And inside that palace is a Knight Order made up entirely of Therianthropes. Don’t be scared.
Pulling himself up with as much dignity as he could muster, the otter rose onto his hind legs and walked upright toward the Knights. Walking upright wasn’t difficult — his tail served as a natural support. He opened his little black-bead eyes as wide and alert as he could manage.
The Knights, caught off guard by the otter marching straight toward them with all the confidence in the world, exchanged a glance.
“What is that….”
“Looks like a… weasel? Is it a Therianthrope?”
When the otter walked right up to them, the Knights reflexively lowered their spears to block him, staring down at him with bewildered expressions. Still standing on his hind legs, the otter tapped the spear in front of him with one paw and let out a sharp cry.
“Squeeeak!”
He made sure to bare his fangs in warning too. The Knights, even more flustered now, tilted their heads — but they drew back their spears and let him through.
“Squeak, squeak!”
The otter was actually caught off guard by how easily they’d let him in, and out of sheer reflex gave them one last sharp, indignant-sounding cry while staring them straight in the face.
That actually worked…?
Having breezed through the castle gate, the otter took off running with a skip in his step. He wandered here and there searching for Rutilian, but finding him in the vast, labyrinthine palace was no easy task.
Maybe it was all the running around he’d done all day — every muscle in his body was screaming for rest. He was hiding in some bushes to take a break when two men walked past in shirts and trousers, swords at their hips.
Judging by their clothing, they were most likely from the Therianthrope Knight Order rather than the royal Knight Order. Therianthrope Knights always stuck to comfortable clothes so they could shift into their animal forms at a moment’s notice.
For once, things seemed to be going his way. He tailed the Knights, alternating between hiding behind stone pillars and ducking into the bushes. He wanted nothing more than to just trot after them in the open, but the swords at their hips looked quite threatening.
He held his breath and followed for a good while — then they turned a corner and disappeared, and his heart leaped. He hurried after them in quick strides, and then suddenly stopped dead.
“Squeak….”
Two swords were pressed to his throat, sharp and gleaming.
“What is it? I thought it was a weasel.”
“Why are you following us? Answer.”
The swords were already in his face before they even gave him a chance to answer. The otter froze completely.
“If it answers, would you even understand it?”
“…Fair point.”
At least one of the two had a functioning brain. If they’d both been equally dim, this would’ve gotten a lot messier. The otter’s whiskers twitched in a small, relieved twitch. The men sheathed their swords and, after staring down at the otter standing stock-still, turned back and continued on their way.
“Squeak…. Squeak.”
Following them is probably the best shot at finding Rutilian. But I don’t have the guts to trail after guys who just had their swords at my throat.
He took one step forward toward their retreating backs, then stepped back again, back and forth, until finally he made up his mind and dashed after the Knights at full speed. Naturally, they noticed him immediately and turned around — but when he saw that their eyes held curiosity rather than wariness, the otter straightened up a little.
“It’s following us again. You think someone owns it?”
“Dumbass. You ever seen anyone keep a weasel in the royal palace?”
“This guy, I swear, since earlier he’s been—”
The men stopped right in the middle of walking and launched into a petty argument, and the otter’s patience burned down to nothing.
“Squeak…? Squeak….”
Can’t you two fight while you walk…? I’m kind of in a hurry….
They’d even grabbed each other by the collar. The otter stamped his feet beneath them, planted himself squarely between the two men in a valiant attempt to mediate — but it was completely useless.
“I’m going to find this thing’s owner, just watch.”
“Bet. If it’s just a wild animal with no owner, you run a hundred laps around the training ground. In human form, obviously.”
“…Fine.”
“Eek?!”
Why am I being used as a bet object, exactly. Anyway — can you two calm down and take me to this training ground or wherever it is already?
The otter stared up at them in disbelief, when one of the men grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and hoisted him up. Suddenly elevated, the otter looked at the man holding him by the midsection and asked:
“Squeak? Squeeeak?”
Are we going to the training ground? Is Rutilian there?
They gave no answer and started moving at a brisk pace. The Knights walked so fast the scenery blurred past, and before long they arrived somewhere filled with the sounds of training shouts. In the wide open space resembling a large courtyard, some Knights were sparring while others were working out on their own. The otter craned his neck this way and that searching for Rutilian, but couldn’t spot even a shadow of him.
“Alright, if your owner’s in here, go on and run to them.”
Already uneasy from not seeing Rutilian, the otter was pushed over the edge by the man nagging him to find his owner, and let out a loud cry.
“Squeak!”
Stop pestering me!
“Hurry up and look. Is your owner here or not?”
“Squeeeak!”
The moment the otter bared his fangs and cried out sharply, dozens of pairs of eyes dropped onto his small body.
Oh right… everyone here is a Therianthrope. Which means their hearing is very, very good.
“Squeak…. Squeak….”
Deflated, the otter flattened himself against the ground and tried to avoid the Knights’ stares. He was looking around for somewhere to hide when, in that moment — at the far edge of the training ground, leaning against a large tree, a pair of eyes met his.
Those orange eyes he had been searching for.
“Squeeeak!”
The moment their eyes met, the otter let out a cry full of longing and bolted toward him with everything he had. Rutilian stared blankly at the familiar little creature that had appeared out of nowhere and was now charging straight at him. His brow furrowed only after the brown creature latched itself firmly onto his leg.
“…Why are you here?”
“Squeeeak!”
Found you!
“Ha….”
The creature kept crying out in bright, cheerful little sounds — what on earth was it so happy about — and Rutilian let out a hollow laugh.
“Let go.”
“Squeak!”
No!
“You’re not a leech.”
