Frozen Sick (2) BE7

The cat stared at Gus with every ounce if feline superiority and disinterest that it could exude.  At the mention of weight, you would swear that the cat's eyes narrowed.  

Gus: 

Gus stills when the cat speaks and lowers it just enough to meet its eyes, holding it there with carefully while the spoon hovers nearby like it might assist in questioning. “Well would you look at that… you talk,” he says, studying it. “That would have been useful earlier.”

He tilts his head slightly, considering. “You ran,” Gus continues. “Were you going somewhere, or just leaving?” He watches the cat closely, waiting as though the distinction matters greatly.

The mention of Pelc’s draws a small, thoughtful nod. “You’ll meet me there,” Gus repeats. “You don’t say.” Another pause. “Why there?” His eyes narrow just a fraction. “What’s at Pelc’s that involves you?”

The spoon taps once against his wrist as if marking the question. “Shop gets broken into. People start freezing. Then you run,” Gus remarks casually. 

He lowers the cat to the floor but does not step back, maintaining eye contact. “Go on,” he says. “Start wherever you think is most helpful.” Adding "Try not to make me chase you again."

Gus:

“Well would you look at that… a druid. In cat form.”

 When Rose tells him to leave her be, Gus considers it without moving. Then, he raises his spoon between them, not as a threat but as something unmistakably official. “Very well,” he says. “You are hereby deputized. ”He nods once, as if that settles the matter. “You will proceed to Pelc’s Curiosities as previously indicated. You will not compromise your cover, worsen your cover, or significantly redefine your cover without notice.” 

He lowers the spoon. “Dismissed.”

Gus then turns and walks back through the tavern as if nothing at all has occurred.

 He arrives back at the table, adjusts his sleeve once, and looks at the three of them.

 “We should head to Pelc’s.” He adds, “Now seems appropriate.”

The tabby raises and eyebrow, glaring at Gus for just a moment, before turning and running off down the hall.  Just before she disappears, she pauses, looks back at Gus, twitches her tail once and nods.

Kind of annoyed, Gal states to Gus:

”Well why’d he have tah take way me new friend there ey? Chase it on off in a fuss and come back to ye table bein so demandin? Eye may int be the most well behaved lass but I be kind to the furry folk.”

Will a big sigh follow by a huff, Gal stands up from where she was sitting on the floor, stretches out her arms and legs, and sits in her chair she was sitting in before sitting on the floor with the cat.

”I is all fer leavin right way but yer lookin like ye know somethin we don’t. Care fer a share?” 

She then chugs the rest of her ale VERY quickly and released quite the loud belch.

 Gus looks at the Elven Ranger for a moment. He adjusts his stance, subtly favoring one leg for just a moment, then corrects it as if that, too, was intentional. 

“It’s a druid.”

He continues after letting the remark sit for a moment. 

“In cat form,” he adds, just in case that needed clarification. And “It spoke. Said their name was Rose."

Gus tilts his head slightly, considering that.

"Like the flower."

He studies Gal’s reaction briefly, then nods again, satisfied, brushing his sleeve again. Something falls off. He ignores it.

“As for knowing something you don’t,” he continues, “I know it agreed to meet us at Pelc’s.” Gus continues now hitting his stride . “I also know I caught it.” He glances briefly back toward the hall. “That part required some… adjustment.”

He straightens, fully composed now, completely recovered, entirely in control of a situation. The spoon taps once against his palm, as he looks at the Ranger just as the echo of her belch settles into the room. "Remarkable projection."

Gus glances towards the door. "We have a cooperative Druid, an unsecured location, and a Ranger with unexpected vocal talent." Walking now towards the door, Gus calls over his shoulder to the rest of the group, "Lets go see what we've already decided to deal with."

The streets of Palebank Village were made of stone slabs taken from the local mountain range.  Five hundred or so miles south, they would have been functional and expertly fitted together by dwarven hands.  At present, they were buried in snow, mostly packed down by heavy, fur lined boots, a few wagon tracks, and the occasional ice patch.  Visitors are often advised to avoid the sloped roads leading to the docks; a patch of ice there could lead to a wild ride culminating in hypothermia.

Pelc's Curiosities sat slightly back the street, nestled between majestic pines.  You could make out small bits of green between fluffy pillows of fresh snow.  The lower branches were holding on by a thread, bending beneath the weight.

As you step off the main road, you notice that the shop looks closed.  The windows are closed, shutters pulled tight against the biting wind.  You see no smoke rising from the fireplace, nor any tell tale glow of candles lit from within.

The dark cabin before you has a sign over its door which reads, “Pelc’s Curiosities,” with the image of a curving dragon used to make the letter P. Though the shop appears closed, the front door is slightly ajar.

At first, it looks like Gus has simply lost the path. He steps off the packed snow without warning, pauses, then turns around and begins walking backwards. Not a few steps. He commits to it fully, moving heel to toe with intense concentration. Gus continues past them. At one point he nearly drifts into a low pine branch, ducks under it at the last second, then nods as if the branch had been part of his plan all along.

Then he pivots sharply, strides forward with three exaggerated steps, takes an unnecessary leap over nothing, lands slightly off balance, corrects it with a spin and immediately veers off into deeper snow disappearing between the trees. Then, without warning, Gus reappears from an entirely different direction, brushing snow and a small twig from his shoulder like he has been there all along. He resumes towards Pelc’s, as though nothing unusual has occurred.

Then, stops again. Drops into a crouch. Studies the ground. Then deliberately walks in a tight circle, steps directly over his own tracks, hops sideways, and continues forward in a slightly zig-zagging pattern that serves no visible purpose. At one point he turns abruptly and walks straight back toward them, stops inches away, nods once at no one in particular, then turns again toward the shop.

Finally, as Pelc’s comes back into clear view, Gus slows, straightens, and brushes his sleeve one last time.

“Well would you look at that…” he says calmly.

“Anyone following us is now completely lost.”

He nods at group before adding.

“Standard procedure.”