Perhaps, Kenny pondered, five ales was a bit too much. And pushing past that to the seventh was definitely overkill, but watered-down booze required higher intake, or, at least that's what Clyde told the lot of them. But he was warm, he was content. His cheeks found themselves lightly flushed, hair ruffled from his hand constantly running up through the blonde locks as he struggled to find words throughout the night. As much as he hated to admit it, he could definitely understand why his father frequented the establishment and partook in this level of activity on a nightly basis. However, that ringing reminder consistently sounded in the back of his mind throughout the night: Don't be him. Cut it off where it needed to be.

Finally, after taking the last long gulp of his final drink, throat dancing with the tingles of malt and yeast, he stopped the barmaid from serving him another. He had work in the morning, as did the rest of them, he reminded his friends with a slight slur.

Cartman waved off the notion, "Only people who need t' be sober are you n' Crybaby over here," he thumbed towards Clyde, who glowered at him slightly. "Details and whatnot."

"Least I'm not known for cryin' for my mommy," Clyde retorted in slight offense through a hiccup.

Amber eyes locked on him, a cruel glint flashing over them in the lantern lights surrounding the entire tavern in a constant orange glow. "That's because my mother isn't dead," he reminded him bluntly.

Clyde's face fell and paled, lip wobbling in the slightest and a wall of water building over his eyes before Kenny reared his hand back and let it fly forward, slapping the back of Cartman's head. "Not cool, Fatass!" the blonde hissed, looking at Clyde under Cartman's string of expletives directed at the tailor. "Dude, Clyde," Kenny held up his hand, eyes closing in the slightest as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Don't let this piece of shit get to you," he finally worked out. "He ain't worth it."

The blacksmith looked down at his emptied cup, nodding solemnly and heaving a deep sigh. Kenny watched him sympathetically before movement caught his eye, glancing at Wendy and Token a little too lost in the throes of heavy petting to contribute to the discussion. He sighed and rolled his eyes, reaching for his coin pouch and delving through the change. Flickering blue eyes back up to the couple he shook his head and snorted. "Hate to interrupt your very important matters, but how many rounds are you coverin' here, Token?"

He finally broke from Wendy's lips, dark skin flushed and a goofily happy grin over his face. Kenny couldn't help but return the expression. Money meant nothing by means of how inebriated one could get after a good few rounds. The man looked up thoughtfully before shrugging, "Fuck it, I got the bill tonight, Guys," he waved them all off.

Kenny's face fell, "I don't fucking think so, Token."

"Come on, let me do this," he said, Cartman finally recovered from his hit and already on his way ordering another drink while Clyde and Kenny fidgeted at the notion. "I made way more than needed from one of my last clients, just let me handle it this one time," he pleaded. "I'm not trying to wound your pride."

"We know," Kenny murmured, glancing between his pouch and the cup in front of him. He hated the idea of all that money coming from someone else's pocket, hated the uncertainty of the gesture. Token was a great friend, had been since they were tiny children running around and the concept of classes meant literally nothing, but that just couldn't stay the same, no matter how much they tried to make it seem as though it could. But Kenny had learned young and quickly that great friends was only a drestil away from becoming a begrudged enemy. This could turn against him, turn into Token holding it over his head, even if the other didn't mean to make it seem that way, it'd creep into Kenny's subconscious time and again. He'd dealt with it before, practically on the brink from one of the educated children in town who'd been hired to teach Token to read and write, offering to do the same lessons for his friends and have private class sessions for the entire group. For years Kenny waited, just waited for it to be brought up, to be used as a 'well you owe me' tactic. It wasn't until he'd managed to help fix the kid's father's good attire that helped secure him a wealthy job far off and away that he felt the debt was anywhere near repaid. Going through that with Token, with someone so close to him on levels of personal companionship? He'd rather chew off his own foot.

Token watched his expression shifting warily and sighed, knowing that Kenny's pride was always a handful to say the very least. He'd never understood it, not until he'd watched the blonde, Wendy, and Clyde refusing to charge certain customers for their varied services years beforehand. After all, no one who couldn't afford to eat very well had no business paying for a thick woolen blanket, a candle to light their way, and a simple, thin dagger for the barest essence of protection into the night. He'd lectured the lot of them after seeing Clyde handing off a weapon out of Mr. Feldon's scope, the three of them utterly baffled at the concept of someone less fortunate than their own hardened lives having to scrounge for their wares. "Only the truly helpless need help," Kenny had declared. "At least in matters of money."

The clerk sighed, scratching his head and nodding to himself. "All right, Ken. You let me pay for this, and you don't fuck me over on sewing that cushion. Deal?" he asked.

Kenny glanced back up at him, forcing a still-uneasy smile on his face. "I wouldn't anyway. But I'm only charging the same as a cotton attachment."

"Oh for the love of Tavin," he rubbed his forehead, glancing over at Wendy who put a hand on his arm and smiled reassuringly at him. The expression said it all, this was as good as it was going to get. "Fine, fine," he nodded in defeat.

"What about me?" Clyde asked quietly.

Token twisted his lips. "I need some new quill tips; can you whip me up a couple of those for half price?"

Clyde beamed, "For free, yes." He ignored Token's groaning as he and Kenny got to their feet. "Thanks, Token, seriously."

"You really didn't have to," Kenny added.

"I know, I know, but I wanted to," he smirked at them. "Have a good night, guys."

Kenny nodded, "You, too. Wendy. Fatboy. We'll see you tomorrow I'm sure," he nodded, the three of them waving him away as he and Clyde met behind Token and Wendy's chairs, both of them stumbling lightly as they awkwardly made their way through the crowd and out the front door. The chilled night air was like a slap in the face, jolting both their eyes wide and alert.

"I always forget how warm it is in there," Clyde laughed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Kenny nodded in agreement, ears still lightly ringing with the murmur of conversation and clattering of dishware he'd endured the past several hours. He let out a long yawn, stretching up onto the tip of his toes and nearly falling back as he lowered himself once more. Clyde laughed louder as he caught him, patting his back. "Had a bit too much, eh, Ken?"

Chuckling warmly, ale filling him with warmth against the assault of the breeze dancing through the closed peonies, he agreed. "I don't drink much, 'member?" he slurred. "Not this much at once, anyway."

"Had a rough day, huh?"

He shook his head, waving off the notion. "Nah. Not no harder than any other. Just… felt like it for once," he shrugged. Placing a hand on Clyde's shoulder, he tightened the grip enough to get those hazel eyes locked back on him and pointed at him firmly, face falling into a scolding expression. "Clyde. Don't lemme do it often," he said sharply.

Clyde nodded sympathetically, patting his back again. "I won't, Bud. I won't."

"And never let Fatass say that kinda shit to you," he continued. "Don't you cry, you make him cry."

An awkward chuckle left chilled lips, "Easier said than done."

"Don't matter. Make it happen."

Clyde smirked, nodding again. "I'll try. Do you need help getting home?"

Kenny finally relinquished his shoulder, much to Clyde's relief, and shook his head. "Nah. I'm just kinda… off," he tilted his hand slightly. "I'm good though. I'll see ya tomorrow. Don't burn your apron, I'm runnin' out of your fabric."

He snorted, turning on his heel and glancing back at him with an amused smile. "I'll do my best. You get some sleep, Ken."

"Will do. Night," he said, turning his own direction and heading towards a side road rounding the curve back towards home. He let out a long breath, glancing up to stare at the splash of stars glimmering down on him and smiling fondly. A stretch of lavender streaked the sky, vibrant as an artist's touch to canvas; A river with embedded stones of ever-glittering diamonds leading his way home. He wondered if it would ever lose the entrapment it had held over him for so long. He wanted to drown in that river. He wanted to be submerged in the seemingly solid form, envisioning it as a length of the purest silk for him to glide between the fibers and find himself washed anew in iridescence.

A soft glow caught his peripheral, forcing his blurred sight back down to the monotony of the world, lips cracking into a smile as the same children from earlier continued to play down the way. He hummed in amusement, listening to their laughs, obviously tired from their night of play but continuing to indulge themselves before finally being summoned back to bed. Kenny grinned, these lucky kids still had another good year or three before work finally began, left to their own devices as the world continued to turn for all others and stopped just for them.

He couldn't deny how he missed the comradery of such times in his own youth. Back when Cartman was still a prick, but punching him wouldn't get him any trouble but a finger wagging and a night in his room from his mother. When Clyde crying was something that they laughed at as opposed to the empathy that seemed to come with age. When Wendy spending all her time with the group of them wasn't seen as scandalous when she wasn't paired with any of them, she was just another kid willing to roll around in the dirt and have the time of her life. Kenny twisted his lips slightly, wondering if she would've stayed the course with them had she not finally accepted Token's advances a good two years after they'd began. Talk spread fast and being rumored of being passed around the four boys was not doing her any favors. Linked arm-and-arm with Token was her salvation in more ways than he figured even she could imagine.

He paused for a bit across from the kids, staring at them running from beyond their toy cart and sighing. Shaking his head, he could only manage a small, jumble-worded prayer for the lot of them. Hoping that maybe they would be the group that got out young, since he and his own friends had already missed their chance by a longshot at not growing up where the most excitement came from an unprecedented thunderstorm. Turning on his heel, he began to head back between buildings, starting his route down an alleyway shortcut back to his home. He wondered if Karen was still up waiting for him, hoping that she'd figured out his chosen activity for the night and knew well enough that he could handle himself.

Softly, in the distance, a foreign sound picked up his hearing. He paused, eyes narrowing as a fluid, lovely tone came from beyond, growing with a smooth crescendo into the night. He turned back towards the kids, seeing them stopped all the same, looking at each other in confusion and asking if the others heard what they did. They all jolted as the sound began to turn into notes, fluttering through the air smooth as honey. The quiet echo of light assonance wrapped around them, making the brisk air seem calm as the tide, guided by the tune. A couple lighthearted trills made their way into the fray, and Kenny felt somewhat compelled to follow them. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the notion. Planting a hand against a cob building and rubbing his head confusedly, he glanced up at the sound of a parade of tiny footsteps, watching the kids beckoning one another to find the source of the music.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to quickly stumble after them and faltering, stepping on a rogue rock and slipping onto his knees, hissing at the hardened dirt catching him on his thin cotton pants. The man groaned, trying to piece together a semblance of what was happening. He knew this town, knew the people inside and out. Music didn't happen here, only when travelers came about, leaving as soon as they figured out that their instrumental talents couldn't earn them much from the downtrodden villagers. The only musician he knew in town was elderly Mrs. Grady, and she couldn't do much to string her lute, let alone play something so wonderfully pitched as what he was hearing on a different instrument entirely. He hummed, wondering just what it was the sound was coming from.

It was crisp and clean, a soft, loving tone that seemed to be holding back the promise of something more should one not tread about it lightly. It was wonderful, a sound made for the background of dreams and the accompaniment of long-skirted dancers gliding along as elegantly as it itself. Kenny grinned warmly, working his way back onto his feet and leaning against the wall, taking a contented breath and letting the peaceful melody lure him into a state of sweet nothings.

And all at once, it came to a halt.

Kenny opened his eyes, lips forming into a pout before he could catch it happening. He heard the kids off in the distance, shouting into the night for it to please continue, and Kenny found himself pleading along with them.

Groaning, he forced himself back off the wall, looking up through the buildings back to his lavender river and sighing. That sound was made for the stars; Made for them to gleam along with the cadence and wrap their viewers into nothing short of a maternal embrace.

Warm-fitted wonders came to a grinding halt, Kenny's pupils shrinking as a swift figure passed over the top of the roof. "What the fuck…" he whispered, stumbling back into the middle of the alley and keeping his neck craned in bewilderment. He took a few steps forward back towards the fields, a splotch of black catching the sides of his eye coming down from beyond the passageway. Kenny snapped his head back down, mouth gaping at a thin figure now at the kids' toy cart. He gulped, moving silently back to the side of a building, breath hitching. Where did this person come from?

Licking dried lips, he forced his inebriated self to push forward, keeping close to the wall and his leather shoes from doing any more than pressing dirt under his weight. He made it to the cusp of the alleyway, hidden in the confines of shadows while the figure very carefully dug through the cart. The blonde cocked his head in confusion as they used the back of their hand to gently shove aside certain items, catching nothing but a slender body shape silhouetted against the night sky.

A long line cascaded down the figure's side behind their back and Kenny blinked. A cape of some kind? They didn't seem to have any kind of cowl around their neck, nothing bulkily shaped about them, nothing draping off their shoulders that he could plainly spot. 'What a weird outfit,' He pondered, wondering for a brief moment if he should step out and ask to see their garment, maybe get a new design for the shop.

The thoughts came to a stop as he watched them gently prying a stuffed toy from the looks of it out of the cart and twisting it in their hand. Ken narrowed his eyes as they brought the toy closer to their face, seeming to sniff at it before nodding and shoving the toy into a large satchel dangling off of their arm. He gritted his teeth. Fancy outfit or no, he knew exactly what was happening here, and he'd be damned if he was going to let someone steal from a bunch of kids.

Kenny straightened up, putting on a face he assumed must be menacing, turning out in his tipsy state to be nothing more than miffed as he stepped out of his hiding spot as the thief continued to shift through their findings. "HEY!" he shouted, the figure jerking in fear, Kenny feeling their eyes locked in his own, neither of them daring to take a breath as the cold air suddenly became thick as hide. "The fuck are you doin'?" he demanded, stumbling a bit but forcing himself to straighten himself taller once more.

The thief grabbed at their satchel nervously, taking slow steps backwards, refusing to make a sound.

Their quiet only enraged Kenny more, "Ya don't steal shit from kids!" he barked, making out a flinch from the smaller form in the darkness. The sound of the children's disappointed voices from not finding the music made both of them turn their heads, Kenny glancing back swiftly and his mouth dropping with horror.

The figure's 'cape' spread into four long, thick appendages from behind them, the creature turning on its heel and taking flight, speeding off to disappear into the tall reeds in the far distance with a speed that Kenny had never seen. He let out a sound of shock and terror, falling back onto the ground and backing up against a building, breath turning short and shallow. He imagined that. He had to have imagined that.

He barely noticed as the kids returned to their cart, talking in sad murmurs of losing the sound, each of them spouting theories on what it must have been as they began to pack up to go home. Meanwhile, Kenny still sat, stunned into silence and eyes unblinking. He shook his head at himself slowly. He just had way too much to drink, dreamt it all up from hearing that music. There was no other explanation, because what he just saw didn't make any semblance of sense, inebriated or no.

Finally, with shaking hands, he forced himself to get back up onto his feet, continuing to stare at the reeds, narrowing his eyes trying to see if anything out of the ordinary moved in the distance.

"Where's my kitty?!" a distressed voice finally broke him from his trance, glancing in front of him to one of the children, the youngest by the looks of it, digging through their cart in a frenzy.

"Sarah, I'm sure it's at home," one of the boys assured her, helping her dig through to continue the search.

She shook her head frantically, "No, I packed him up!" she swore. "He was here! He was with us when we played with the tops!"

One of the other children nodded in agreement, "Yeah, he was. And she put him back under the bag to keep him warm, remember?" The kids all paused, looking at one another in confusion at the recollection.

"Then someone took him!" Sarah proclaimed, nearing the edge of tears.

Kenny's mouth slowly fell once again. Okay. Okay he didn't imagine someone being there. Maybe he imagined them flying away like an arrow, but not them physically being there… He rubbed his head in befuddlement. What was even happening? Was he really that drunk? He'd never hallucinated before, not without a hell of a fever to accompany him. His attention was brought back up as Sarah began to cry into her hands, the other kids gathering around her to comfort her while the oldest two quietly conversed as to where it possibly could've ended up.

The man blinked, swallowing his lingering fear and making way across the road. "Hey, you all right? Missing your kitty?" he asked, the kids looking at him in surprise.

"Hi, Kenny," one of them greeted him solemnly.

He nodded at the lot before turning his attention to the distressed young girl, "Hey there, Sarah." He knelt down in front of her, tapping her arm. "What's your kitty look like?" he asked kindly, hoping a little too hard that she wouldn't smell the harsh ale still lingering on his breath.

She sniffled, wiping her eyes and choking out another brokenhearted sob. "He was yellow… b-blue bow," she gestured to her neck and he nodded in understanding. "H-he's this big," she said holding out her hands to the size of her tiny waist.

"And you're all sure it was put back?" he asked, looking at group of six nodding in unison. He set his lips tightly and hummed to himself. This was too strange. Just far too surreal for an ordinary night like tonight. He glanced at the eldest, looking not a day over nine and just as lost as himself, pleading silently for Kenny to have some kind of solution.

The man cleared his throat, nodding softly, "Well… would you be okay with… having a new kitty? So if we find your other one sometime he has a friend to come home to? I know it ain't the same but I can make ya another one." Sarah stared at him, tears and eyes glistening in the limited moonlight, nodding softly. "Shh, it's okay," he cooed, patting her arm. "I'm sure your kitty wants you to have another friend until he gets back, okay?"

She nodded again, twisting her dress shyly through her tears. "Thank you, Kenny," she whimpered.

"Hey, hey, it's all right," he promised. "You kids all stop by my shop tomorrow evening after we close. I'll keep it open just for you, all right? You want the new kitty to be yellow, too? With a blue bow?"

She shook her head, "Red bow… s-so…"

"So your kitty knows he isn't replaced?" he guessed, getting another nod. He smiled sympathetically, "Well, you'll have your new one tomorrow, I promise. You guys get home. It's pretty late and gettin' cold," he advised.

"Thanks, Kenny," the oldest said gratefully for the crisis being somewhat averted as the man got back to his feet.

He watched the kids throw the last of their toys in the wagon, working together to start pushing it down the street. He bit his lip, alcohol stopping his better judgement before letting out a, "Hey, kids?"

They paused, turning back to look at him. "Yeah?"

"You uh… you have any metal toys in that cart?" he questioned.

The group all turned to glance in at their wares before once more staring up at him. "Uh, no?" the oldest replied.

Kenny nodded softly, glancing back towards the reeds before sliding tired eyes back their way. "Well, you may wanna throw a few in there. Might be a good idea."

Sarah tipped her head, wiping her eyes again, "Why?"

He smiled and shrugged lazily, "Just call it an old superstition. You guys get home. Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

They stared at him a bit suspiciously but nodded, "We will, Kenny. You get sleep, too," one requested. He laughed quietly and nodded, watching them all continue on their way down the road. The smile fell from his face, looking back into the fields and taking a shaking breath. Slowly, he backed back into the alleyway before forcing himself to look away from the distance and back to civilization.

He had to have imagined it, merely brought about by a night of drinking and filled with talks of grandiose adventures... Right?