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Description
Hane was frantic; running through the town, his tail streaming behind him, asking everyone the same question. Everyone gave the same answer--no. Through the town and through again Hane searched with only one thought on his mind. Where is my daughter?
His little Janie had been different from the first. Where her parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents had all been born with fine brown fur, Janie had been born with coarse white fur. Her eyes were another difference. Where her family had Brown eyes, she was born with eyes a dark red.
As she grew, her differences grew too. Hane worked at the inn, keeping track of the ledger and making sure the inn had coin to buy supplies to keep the patrons happy in order to make coin. It was tedious, quiet work but he was content in doing it. His wife, Clara, stayed at home for the most part; she kept the home neat, the hearth warm, and the family fed. The work was hard and lonesome at times, but for the love of her family she was content in doing it. Janie was wild, she was always bored with her lessons given to her by her mother preparing her to be a Woman of the Hearth and would steal away from her lessons at every chance to make trouble in the town. Leading the boys on raids of kitchens, pulling pranks, so beating the boys with sticks and calling it stick-fighting.
Today Janie had been given a chance to get away from her lessons, and like always she had taken it. Clara had stayed up the night before helping him with the ledger work, and today had slept late. Instead of waking her mother, Janie must have gone out on her own. But where? All the town boys were accounted for. Everyone Hane asked Hadn't seen her. There were no water buckets recently toppled from door frames. Her white hide was nowhere to be seen in the fields. Hane was at a loss. Could she have escalated her play somehow like when she had challenged Rick the blacksmith to her stick-fighting?
Hane stopped abruptly and groaned. That would be exactly what she would have done. And I know with whom, too. The inn had been entertaining a particularly conspicuous patron the past two night. A Tigrek with the looks of a warrior about him. Had Janie gone to steal pies from the inn again, she could well have seen him breaking his fast and decided he would make better sport than Rick. Hane had been running through town before but now he turned and ran like the wind, twice as fast as before, back to the inn. He had to get there before Janie did something to get herself hurt. Quickly he arrived at the inn, it's painted shingle showing a picture of a home and proclaiming it to be simply The Humble Abode. Without pausing he the inn doors, calling for his daughter. He paused once inside however, dumbfounded and distraught by what he saw.
The inn's tables and chairs had been pushed against the walls, its patrons sitting in the chairs or standing against the tables, cheering so that Hane's voice was lost in the din. In the center of the ring made by people and furniture both, Janie sat on the floor with red welts parting the fur along her arms; her favorite stick for fighting was on the ground beside her. The Tigrek was standing over her, unmarked, a similar stick in hand. He was fierce beast-man with white fur striped in black. The scene was queer; both the Tigrek and Janie were laughing.
Hane began to move towards the two as the Tigrek said, “See, little mouse? I told I said I was too much a match for you! No matter, you may not know much about fighting, but I like your fire. And you have the Fighter’s Fur, too, same as me. Here, let me help you up. Maybe we can spar again sometime? Ah, but I forget I leave for home on the morrow.” Hane was close but unnoticed. His daughter squeaked in reply, “Take me with you then, we can every day if you day. I like you” The Tigrek laughed again and replied, “Maybe I will at that. Also, I am called Edjethâk, not mister.”With that Hane couldn't stay silent; he stepped between them before Janie could be helped up and said loudly to this Edjethâk, “So you would take a girl of nine away from her parents, away from her future as a great Woman of the Hearth for a dutiful husband, without anyone's knowing or consent? And for what? To make her your training dummy?”
Edjethâk sneered, growling, “Bold mouse, you presume much, and falsely. I would be the girl's training dummy, not the other way around. I would not take her on without the consent of her parents, and then would compensate her parents by paying them plenty of coin, more than they would be like to make in their lifetimes. What business is this of yours, anyway, bold mouse?”
Hane drew himself up, the top of his head almost reaching Edjethâk's shoulders, “I am her father, and judging from my good common sense and how you have spoken to me, I do not think I will give consent to this folly.”
Edjethâk's anger disappeared immediately; as he bowed his head in submission, he said, “Forgiveness, brave mouse, I could not tell she was yours from appearance, although now I see from where her fire comes.” Hane snorted, “Her name is Janie.”
“Janie, my apologies. But please, listen. Instead of making a rash decision now; will you have me to dinner so we may discuss this issue in depth? I will catch dinner. The gir-Janie does show promise as a fighter.” The thought of a free meal was enticing, and so to was the thought of the coin offered, yet something seemed wrong about the situation to Hane. But when he turned to his daughter, who was now standing with hopefulness plain on her face, he swallowed his misgivings.
Turning back to Edjethâk he said, “Meet me back here when you have caught supper.”

Description
Hane was frantic; running through the town, his tail streaming behind him, asking everyone the same question. Everyone gave the same answer--no. Through the town and through again Hane searched with only one thought on his mind. Where is my daughter?
His little Janie had been different from the first. Where her parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents had all been born with fine brown fur, Janie had been born with coarse white fur. Her eyes were another difference. Where her family had Brown eyes, she was born with eyes a dark red.
As she grew, her differences grew too. Hane worked at the inn, keeping track of the ledger and making sure the inn had coin to buy supplies to keep the patrons happy in order to make coin. It was tedious, quiet work but he was content in doing it. His wife, Clara, stayed at home for the most part; she kept the home neat, the hearth warm, and the family fed. The work was hard and lonesome at times, but for the love of her family she was content in doing it. Janie was wild, she was always bored with her lessons given to her by her mother preparing her to be a Woman of the Hearth and would steal away from her lessons at every chance to make trouble in the town. Leading the boys on raids of kitchens, pulling pranks, so beating the boys with sticks and calling it stick-fighting.
Today Janie had been given a chance to get away from her lessons, and like always she had taken it. Clara had stayed up the night before helping him with the ledger work, and today had slept late. Instead of waking her mother, Janie must have gone out on her own. But where? All the town boys were accounted for. Everyone Hane asked Hadn't seen her. There were no water buckets recently toppled from door frames. Her white hide was nowhere to be seen in the fields. Hane was at a loss. Could she have escalated her play somehow like when she had challenged Rick the blacksmith to her stick-fighting?
Hane stopped abruptly and groaned. That would be exactly what she would have done. And I know with whom, too. The inn had been entertaining a particularly conspicuous patron the past two night. A Tigrek with the looks of a warrior about him. Had Janie gone to steal pies from the inn again, she could well have seen him breaking his fast and decided he would make better sport than Rick. Hane had been running through town before but now he turned and ran like the wind, twice as fast as before, back to the inn. He had to get there before Janie did something to get herself hurt. Quickly he arrived at the inn, it's painted shingle showing a picture of a home and proclaiming it to be simply The Humble Abode. Without pausing he the inn doors, calling for his daughter. He paused once inside however, dumbfounded and distraught by what he saw.
The inn's tables and chairs had been pushed against the walls, its patrons sitting in the chairs or standing against the tables, cheering so that Hane's voice was lost in the din. In the center of the ring made by people and furniture both, Janie sat on the floor with red welts parting the fur along her arms; her favorite stick for fighting was on the ground beside her. The Tigrek was standing over her, unmarked, a similar stick in hand. He was fierce beast-man with white fur striped in black. The scene was queer; both the Tigrek and Janie were laughing.
Hane began to move towards the two as the Tigrek said, “See, little mouse? I told I said I was too much a match for you! No matter, you may not know much about fighting, but I like your fire. And you have the Fighter’s Fur, too, same as me. Here, let me help you up. Maybe we can spar again sometime? Ah, but I forget I leave for home on the morrow.” Hane was close but unnoticed. His daughter squeaked in reply, “Take me with you then, we can every day if you day. I like you” The Tigrek laughed again and replied, “Maybe I will at that. Also, I am called Edjethâk, not mister.”With that Hane couldn't stay silent; he stepped between them before Janie could be helped up and said loudly to this Edjethâk, “So you would take a girl of nine away from her parents, away from her future as a great Woman of the Hearth for a dutiful husband, without anyone's knowing or consent? And for what? To make her your training dummy?”
Edjethâk sneered, growling, “Bold mouse, you presume much, and falsely. I would be the girl's training dummy, not the other way around. I would not take her on without the consent of her parents, and then would compensate her parents by paying them plenty of coin, more than they would be like to make in their lifetimes. What business is this of yours, anyway, bold mouse?”
Hane drew himself up, the top of his head almost reaching Edjethâk's shoulders, “I am her father, and judging from my good common sense and how you have spoken to me, I do not think I will give consent to this folly.”
Edjethâk's anger disappeared immediately; as he bowed his head in submission, he said, “Forgiveness, brave mouse, I could not tell she was yours from appearance, although now I see from where her fire comes.” Hane snorted, “Her name is Janie.”
“Janie, my apologies. But please, listen. Instead of making a rash decision now; will you have me to dinner so we may discuss this issue in depth? I will catch dinner. The gir-Janie does show promise as a fighter.” The thought of a free meal was enticing, and so to was the thought of the coin offered, yet something seemed wrong about the situation to Hane. But when he turned to his daughter, who was now standing with hopefulness plain on her face, he swallowed his misgivings.
Turning back to Edjethâk he said, “Meet me back here when you have caught supper.”