A/N: I am working on this story, and Morder Mansion, and Big Brother, and inmate 7, and on top of all that, I have school (aka hell) to go through every week day, so don't expect a lot of updates for this story. I've been trying to work on some decent characters for a long time, and basically, what I came up with, was a gang full of stereotypes and blandness. Yep, that's about it. Bet you're impressed, huh :3 I'm putting more thought into characters than story... so, yeah...
The Salty Ferret was not too busy on a clear day in the middle of the summer. A soft breeze blew outside as it hit the poorly built wooden walls gently. A small whisper ran through the woods, shaking the leaves of the tallest trees, slightly pushing and pulling at the fur of the animals below, barely noticeable. The door to the entryway rocked back and forth an inch, staying slightly open.
The owner of said tavern was lazily sitting behind the counter on a wooden stool, his arms crossed. He was a tall, somewhat muscular ferret,
"Days like this I wish I'd joined a gang or horde instead of settlin with this dump. All I gots is alcohol, drunks, and breakin property to deal with."
The ferret sighed, slumping onto the counter. The door opened, and the ferret was eager to finally see something happen. He was expecting it to be some low life vermin, or maybe even a woodlander. What he was not expecting was a hare, a mouse, a stoat, a fox, two adolescent weasels, a little mole, and a creature he hadn't seen before.
"Uh, hey there. How can I help ya?"
The seven took their seats on the stools opposite him, and browsed the types of drink there were to be had.
"October ale mixed with Shark's tooth." said the fox. Said fox was very tall, and from the look of it, and extremely well-built. She had one blue eye and one brown eye, and two golden rings on her left ear. She wore an old, brown cloak that had many tares on it, and it looked awfully odd on her, as her fur seemed very smooth and well cared for.
"I'll also take a Shark's tooth." said the stoat. The stoat was about as much opposite the fox as one could get. He was considerably shorter, a bit plump and without muscle. His fur was tattered and dirt-filled, and he wore an eye patch. His clothes, were much more expensive looking, as he had leather garments and a purple cape hanging from his neck to his tail.
"Don't suppose you could get me strawberry cordial, wot wot!" the hare said. The hare was an old, but still looked very energetic. His face held a stern expression, a monocle, and a moustache. He basically looked like any other hare, except for one thing that got the ferret's attention right away. The hare had no ears. There were no cut marks, or signs that there had been any to begin with. Just a clean scalp of a head.
The tavern keeper nodded slightly, already extremely taken aback by the three he had analyzed already, and went to getting the first three drinks. "And the rest of you?"
As he got the three drinks to the counter, the mouse responded. "I'll have nothing, thank you." The mouse was a very frail looking thing, with round glasses and barely any fat on him, he looked like a bag of bones with fur and a very loose fitting green robe. The notable thing about him was that he lacked a tail, and that his face looked so much like a skull, mainly do to the fact that he was so skinny, but also that the fur around his face was white.
"Hey ugly, get me something that's actually worth drinking." one of the weasels snickered.
The ferret turned towards the two weasels, looking to see which had made the remark.
They looked astonishingly similar, save for the colors of their garments. One was brown, the other was black.
The ferret growled in a menacing voice. "Which one of ya called me ugly?"
The one in black garments raised a paw. The ferret punched the weasels face hard, actually getting some blood to be spat out from his mouth.
He was sent from his chair and landed with a thud.
The other weasel helped him up. The brown garmented weasel stuck out his tongue at the ferret. "Ugly jerk."
"Oh, so it was you!"
Before the ferret could get another blow landed, he was stopped by the weasel in black, who punched him across the face. It wasn't too hard of a punch, as it barely bruised the ferret, but it was enough to knock him back a step.
"That's it! Get out of my bar, the lot of ya!"
The mole looked at the ferret with watery eyes. "I didn't get anything to drink."
The ferret started to feel a little bad, but then he looked back at the weasel twins, the brown clothed one making faces at him while the black clothed one was nursing his wound.
"No, get out."
Just then-
"Hey!"
The elder was thrown out of his story.
"What?"
"Why doesn't that mole speak weird?"
The elder singled out the dibbun from the bunch that had sat down by the gardens to listen to his story. It was a little squirrel with a green dress and flower behind her ear.
"Why doesn't the mole speak wierd? Really?"
"Well yeah."
"Easy, because if I can't speak it, then the charatcer isn't going to speak it."
"Oh..."
The elder sighed. "What other question do you have?"
"Well, who are these characters? I just... kinda want to know who they are and what their life was like, not some random visit at a bar."
Some of the other dibbuns sodded their heads to this. The elder looked deep in thought for a second, and then smiled.
"Alright. Whose story would you like to hear first?"
The squirrel looked to be pondering. "I don't know."
The elder then looked across the collective group of dibbuns. "Well?"
A/N: I realize this was a terrible first chapter, but don't worry, the next six chapter will make up for it. So, whose story do you want to hear first.
