The night was sharp and cold as Manie slipped between the crowds of tents. The fires had long since burnt out and the workers had gone to sleep. At the head of a camp, a slightly larger tent stood.

"Servelis!" a furious female voice shouted. "Servelis, I can't and won't stand for this...this...filth!"

There was a slurred, mumbled reply and a frustrated bitten shriek as the tent sides rippled violently, though there was no wind.

"Give me...give me that! You're to have to more, you ass! It's bad enough you're making a laughing stock of yourself without having to made fools of the rest of us--"

Manie slipped closer. It wasn't any of his business but...well...he had to know. His burning curiosity could not let him just walk away from this.

"Fera..." The word was slow and soggy around the edges. "Fera, I'm leading this exhibition just fine. If the Sire didn't believe I could--" hiccup "--do it he wouldn't have put me in charge of the mission..."

"You're a drunk, Servelis. A common street rat." The spiteful words were quiet but sharp.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Tent."

The flaps of the tent flew open and Fera stormed out, dark hair frizzled and flying about her face. Manie shrunk back just as she turned and spotted him. She glared.

"Street rat," she spat, giving him a violent shove that sent him sprawling on the grass before dissapearing in the miny village of tents.

Manie wheezed for a few minutes, catching his lost breath and letting feeling return to his lame leg. Inside Servelis' tent he could hear the captain mumbling to himself, but he couldn't make out many words.

"...stupid...mumblemumble...thinks she can...mumblemumble...she'll...mumble...she's right...mumblemumblemumble..."

Aching and without his curiosity, Manie hurriedly staggered back to his tent and slipped under his cloak with his questions unanswered.

Before&After