Pam believed it was finally over.
Bodies were surrounding her on all sides; every time she'd look behind, relief would wash over her. She wasn't being followed. Despite that bouncer's imposing build and the no-nonsense attitude he'd displayed when she had met him earlier, she was confident he wouldn't stand a chance against Clover – yet hopefully, their clash would buy Pam enough time to reach the treeline, where the denser, darker vegetation would cloak her as she made her getaway. She smirked at the thought; that fool had been playing right into her hands all along without even knowing it.
Picking up the pace, she carried on through the busy crowd. She was almost there now... Just a little longer, and she'd be in the clear...
But just when she thought she was going to make it, an even larger commotion suddenly arose all around her. She turned around, loudly damning what she saw then: all the lemurs that had been waiting outside the club had begun to scatter in every direction, with most abandoning the site outright. One by one, they separated and ran as Butterfish's evacuation order spread amongst them, until Pam found herself nearly completely alone and out in the open. Her eyes started searching frenetically for him and Clover, only to realize that neither were there anymore.
For a moment, she wondered if the bouncer could've actually succeeded in getting rid of Clover – when she saw something out of the corner of her right eye: a lithe orange figure, coming in straight towards her.
She had less than a second to move out of the way as a deadly fist descended upon her, missing her by a hair. The figure had now positioned itself directly in front of her, fists clenched and raised up.
"Going somewhere?"
"You again! You don't know when to quit, do you?!" Pam shouted, "Just get out of my way and leave me be, dammit!"
Clover shook her head decisively. "Sorry, mate. Not gonna happen. Y'know there's only one way you're getting outta here – and that's through me."
"Is that what you really want?" the mongoose asked, and then she began to slowly lumber backwards, closer to the trees. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but like I said before... I have things to do. Don't worry, though, we'll meet again on Saturday; there'll be plenty of time to settle things then. I hope you bring your A-game, by the way! You're going to need it." Strapping her goggles over her eyes, she gave Clover a perfunctory smile and salute. "Ta-ta!"
Then she spun around, and blasted off fast as a cheetah, kicking up small puffs of dust in her wake, leaving Clover with her words in her mouth.
"NO!"
The bodyguard immediately raced after her; very quickly she gained speed, going faster and faster, until she'd broken into a full sprint across the green fields. After all, they didn't call her the best runner in the kingdom for nothing!
It didn't take her long to catch up – though Pam was still faster than her by a notable margin, the rogue speedster had to slow down significantly before she entered the heavy undergrowth, so that she wouldn't trip and crash. This allowed Clover to close the gap in seconds: leaping to all fours, she sprang forward with her arms outstretched, and seized Pam by the tail as she fell on her belly, bringing the other woman down with her. Pam briefly got to her knees and tried to crawl away, but Clover pounced on her – without much effort, she had her rival flat on the ground.
"End of the line, Pam! Give up, and I'll go easy on ya!"
"Oh, you'll go easy on me?! Ha ha ha, nice joke, sweetheart!" Pam groaned out, one side of her face pressed solidly against the grime. "You know... I gotta say I'm pretty impressed with you! You've become faster since the last time we met! Leg day's been paying off, huh?"
"Save it, skank; I've had it up to here with ya!" She grabbed Pam's shoulder and rolled her over so that she was lying supine. "Why'd you do it?! Answer me, why?! What did that kid ever do to you?!"
"You ain't getting a word out of me! What in the living hell do you care anyway?! What was she to you?!"
"It's my responsibility to protect the good people of this kingdom! Anyone who messes with them will have to answer to me, no matter who they are!" Then Clover plonked both hands on either side of Pam's head, and leaned in to hiss threateningly, "Besides, in case you hadn't gotten the message before – I really, really don't like ya, Pam... Hell, I can only think of two blokes in this whole wide world I've ever hated more than you: one of 'em is thankfully dead, and the other – King Julien forgive me – should be too! Oh, I swear that if it had been up to me, you'd never have seen the light of day again; I would've simply left you in that jailhouse we put ya in to rot! No more riches to steal, no more men to take advantage of... just you and your sad lonely thoughts till the day you croaked!"
"Why, I'm flattered you think so highly of me, Clover!" Pam retorted, chuckling evilly, "Most kings I've been with have had way worse to say about me! Hmmm, now you've made me wonder what Julien thinks... I know I didn't marry him per se, but it was still his sovereignty I took for myself, ha ha ha!" She went on talking to keep the bodyguard distracted – unbeknownst to her, she was gathering a pile of dirt in her hand, as large as it would fit. "Hey, wouldn't it be the funniest thing if you and Maurice were actually working for me instead of him right now? Ha ha ha ha ha, can you just imagine it? Oh, the irony!"
"Ya think that's funny?!" Clover barked.
"Very, ha ha ha ha! The look on your faces when you all saw me up on the throne; I should've taken a picture!"
Suddenly, Pam threw the dirt ball up into Clover's face, hitting her squarely in the eyes. She instantly reeled away with a yowl as she raised both hands to them, allowing Pam to push her off, stand up, and make a run for it towards the nearest batch of trees. Temporarily disoriented, Clover wobbled to her feet and swiped at her now-stinging and mildly bloodshot eyes before opening them, yet she could hardly see anything; neon blurs and black formless shapes were clouding her vision. She rubbed them several times, grunting and blinking hard till she'd regained her eyesight.
"PAAAAM!" she hollered at the top of her voice, but the mongoose in question had disappeared yet again. She lurched onward among the trees, slumping onto one of them to cleanse her eyes one last time – and then she noticed it: a clump of leaves gently drifting to the ground before her, carried down by the warm night breeze. Scrunching her brows, she lifted her head to the treetop, and glanced at its neighboring brethren – the crowns on all of them were completely static.
Bingo.
In just a few smooth maneuvers, she was climbing the trunk and ascending its branches to scour the tree from bottom to top. Although it was almost universally dark up here, light from the club's sign was shedding in through the leaves, coating bits of the black space in rainbow fractals, letting her see somewhat well. As she skipped slowly and stealthily across the branches, she ultimately ended spotting a figure hunched over around three quarters of the way up, thinly etched in a shadowy outline, immobile as it tried to remain hidden.
If that sly delinquent had thought that this would make Clover lose her trail, she'd thought wrong. Perhaps she should've been more careful coming in.
From what Clover could tell, she had her back to her, and her red eyes were fixed on the jungle floor, apparently looking for movement. Clover had a clear shot.
She began her approach, rising steadily to her full height with each cautious step. The music coming from the club disguised her footsteps; Pam still seemed none the wiser. She reached her hands out to her...
"Nice try," her voice rang distinctly throughout. Clover froze.
Wha...?
Not half a second later, the mongoose whirled around with a warlike shout – she was toting something big and elongated in her hands, which she wrathfully swung at the bodyguard, who leaped back to dodge it. When Pam neared with it brandished into the light, she got a better look at what it was: a thick chunk of wood ripped from one of the branches, blunt on one end, but sharp and jagged on the other – sharp enough to cause serious bodily harm if its wielder so desired – and this end was the one she had pointed at Clover.
"Blast you! Why do you always have to get in my way?! Why can't you just leave things be?!"
"Drop your weapon!" Clover demanded.
Pam shook her head in refusal. "Fat chance, sugar! I'm not interested in fighting you, but I will defend myself if I have to!" However, she did lower the makeshift club a little, which attested to what she was saying. "Now listen, there's still time to take the sensible road – just let me go and we'll pretend none of this ever happened, okay? You can go back to all your friends and I to my chores in peace, and nobody has to know this ever happened! Deal?"
But Clover had made up her mind long ago; now there was no changing it. Gritting her teeth, she returned the head gesture. "...No deal."
And so she rushed forth – Pam swung again, yet this time, she came prepared: she jumped up towards a higher branch, grabbing onto it as the club slashed through the empty air where her legs had just been. Now dangling above her enemy, she then kicked out with both legs, an attack which Pam barely managed to block. Despite this, the impact's force was still strong enough to bowl her down on her back and knock the weapon from her hands. It landed some feet to her right, stuck precariously between two thinner boughs. Pam hurried to her feet and leaped at it, successfully grabbing it before it fell – yet it was no sooner back in her possession than Clover arrived to meet her. She couldn't even get another swing in, as the warrior performed a powerful spinning kick that snapped the club in half.
Pam gasped, beholding the useless stump for a moment – when without warning, she tossed it at Clover, before escaping onto the next branch. The bodyguard thwacked the stump out of the air with a well-placed blow, quickly following suit.
"Oh no, you don't! Ya ain't getting away this time!"
Unluckily for Pam, she wasn't as quick here as she was on even terrain; with a lightning-fast jump, Clover was able to tackle her rather easily. However, in the heat of the moment, she didn't realize they'd been standing on the outer rim of the branch system – thus, their frantic momentum carried them as they overshot all solid ground, and burst through the tree's crown amidst a spray of high-pitched squeals and fluttering leaves. Now clinging to one another, they plummeted down the trunk's length at breakneck speed, with Clover taking the brunt of the fall once they touched down about fifteen feet below. A harsh wheezing noise squashed itself out of her lungs whilst Pam, somewhat cushioned by her body, bounced and rolled off, and the two lay breathless next to each other on the grass, hanging to consciousness by a thread. There was a rumble as the minuscule crowd that was still present rushed in to check on them, fearing they'd been knocked out, or worse – but then, one fleeting glance into the other's eyes was all it took to make both girls forget the pain in their backbones, and resume quarreling as if nothing had happened.
"You're dead! Ya hear me?! Dead!"
"Argh, get off me, you crazy bitch! What's the matter with you – you just nearly got us killed!"
"Go to hell!"
"Right after you! I'm gonna send you there myself and dance on your grave!"
They continued to roll across the field like rabid beasts in a tangle of red and orange, cursing, screaming, growling, scratching, kicking, and hurling droves of profanities at each other, their fur becoming matted with mud, little twigs, and stray blades of grass – yet neither minded it. It was as though they'd been reduced to their most basic instincts – that primitive, animalistic urge to fight and to conquer; to destroy the closest perceived threat, and assert their dominance over it. Not even the growing throng of morbidly curious patrons that had started to flock in from inside the club, too, served to deter them; they could watch as long as they wanted for all they cared.
They were, in fact, so focused on trying to tear each other apart, that they did not notice another group of people running to them, this one made up of five particular integrants.
"Oh my gods, Clover! Clover, stop it! Stop!" That was Maurice's voice calling. Then, another one chimed in, and then another.
"Butterfish, get all these people out of here! We'll handle those two!"
"Ya got it, KJ! Just try not to get yer eyes clawed out or somethin'; catfights like these ain't no joke! I've seen 'em more times than I'd like to count!"
Moments later, King Julien, Maurice and Mort were on top of Pam and Clover to separate them, while Xixi flitted about overhead, fruitlessly yelling at everybody to calm down.
"Clover, Clover, listen to me! Stop this, for the love of Frank; you're gonna get hurt!" Julien implored, his voice coarse with desperation, but of course, she didn't hear him. "Dammit! Mort, Mo-Mo, you grab that arm while I take this one! Pull as hard as you can!"
"I can't! I can't get a good grip; they're writhing too much!" his advisor objected, shielding his face. If any of them were to come too close to that maelstrom of raging fists and feminine fury, they'd risk getting hit, and he didn't want to take any chances.
"Guys, what do I do?!" Xixi asked them from above, not knowing how she could be of help.
"Oh, I don't know – how about you get your tailfeather down here and help us?!" Mort exclaimed.
But she hesitated. Her wings were frail and could get injured very easily in such a fierce struggle, and she wasn't nearly strong enough to tip the scales either. If three grown lemur boys were having such a difficult time, what use would a measly toucan like her be?
All of a sudden, it hit her. It was a slim chance, but it was better than nothing.
She circled back around, then soared above the tree canopy to situate herself. There in the far distance to the south and the east, the full moon hung poised over the coastline.
Hm, just a few miles, she thought, This'll be no walk in the park, but with a few quick breaks, I should be able to make it.
So without further ado, the toucan spread her wings before taking off as fast as the wind would carry her.
"Hey, where are you going?! Get back here!" Mort yipped after her, but she was already too far to hear him. He turned to his fellow lemurs. "Guys, Xixi just dipped!"
A frown wrinkled the king's brow as he glanced skyward. "Agh, forget about her; that's the least of our worries!" Helplessly he was forced to watch as Clover managed to straddle Pam once more. She'd clasped her fists together and then raised them to pummel her into submission, when the mongoose's ringed tail shot out like a rocket, enveloping itself around the mad guardian's wrists and throat in the blink of an eye to keep her at bay. Clover fought tooth and nail to unravel the constricting appendage, yet she could not; Pam was squeezing with all her might much like a snake would with freshly caught prey, and from the strangled grimace on Clover's face, it appeared she was having trouble breathing... so without thinking about his own safety, Julien threw himself to her aid.
"Unhand her, you dirty she-devil! Unhand her NOW!" he wailed at Pam, his quaking fists punching and pulling on every inch of the red tail. He was moving so much his crown had fallen off his head, though he never noticed it for as long as he held on.
"As you wish!" she growled.
She put her hands on Clover's chest, and swiftly shoved her away. Breathing heavily, she stumbled up on uneven feet while the lemurs rushed to help their friend do the same. Shockingly, besides the ruined pelts, both girls had nary a scratch on them.
"Keep your dog on a leash, Julien!" Pam panted at him, "Next time she pulls off a stunt like this, I won't be so lenient with her!"
Meanwhile, Clover, her body ravaged by a severe coughing fit, looked willing and ready to attack again, but the others held her down before she could; Julien and Maurice by the arms, and Mort by the left thigh. Yet even with all three of them combined, it was harder than it seemed to keep her under control. "Let me at her, Your Majesty, let me at her! I'm gonna kill that slut! Who does she think she is?!" she screeched, her wrought voice lashing wildly in their ears.
"Shhh, it's okay, Clo-Clo, it's okay! Don't let her get to you!" the royal said to her, "Think of happy things, places, memories, and stuff!"
"NO!"
"Uh, okay, then think of something violent – that always does it for you!"
"Not the best choice of words right now, Your Majesty!" Maurice said. His grip was slipping – not only was Clover too strong for him, but every inch of her body was burning like an active furnace and drenched in sweat, which only made things harder for him – and he knew the others were faced with the same issue. He silently prayed Butterfish could get here in time to help them. By the gods, how could it have come to this?
And yet, regrettably, there was nothing they could do, for when Pam turned around and began to leave the area, Clover's blood boiled. She was going to stop that criminal, even if it was the last thing she ever did!
Mort was the first to yield. He'd already been the one to struggle most due to his shorter arms, but as hard as he'd tried, it just wasn't enough. Maurice and Julien went down in tandem moments later; ignoring their protests, she prised their hands off and pushed them away, finally breaking free. She briefly glared at the three of them to make sure they were fine, before setting off in hot pursuit.
"Clover, nooo!" Julien's feeble cry echoed behind her.
"Pam, get back here!" she yelled, "You and I aren't done yet!"
The speedster looked back, scowling darkly. "You know, you really are starting to get on my nerves!"
Her anger had grown, but not her worry; though she was rather weary from fighting, there was no shadow of a doubt that she could still outrun Clover, and with the added advantage of a slight headstart, she would be out of there in no time. But what would be the point? she asked herself, Clover will never give up the chase; she'll follow me to the ends of the Earth if she has to. Therefore, she decided she was going to stay just a little longer, and teach that foolish girl a little lesson...
She came to rest in front of a tree, waiting for her foe to catch up. Now, she would have to time this perfectly, or this could go awry very fast. But she wouldn't miss.
"Hey, come and get me, kitty-cat! You want a piece of me? Here you have it!" she lured the bodyguard in, arms wide open. Clover was still coming at her, oblivious to her scheme.
Just a little closer...
She was almost here; only a few more seconds.
A little closer...
Now she could clearly see the fire in her eyes, bright as the summer sun.
Closer...
Here she was – this was it.
Now!
Clover broke out of her run with a straight punch with her right fist, aimed at Pam's jaw – precisely what she'd wanted. Smirking, she yanked her head aside at the absolute last possible second, grabbed Clover's arm, twisting it painfully behind her back – and then slammed the crowned lemur face-first onto the tree with a sickening crunch. The stunned bodyguard gave a loud whine, her head spinning as the realization that she'd been tricked dawned on her.
Pam had her flattened against the tree, preventing her from going anywhere. She could hardly keep the excitement out of her voice as she taunted her catch. "Ah ah ah! I told you not to test me, Clover; you know how easily I could make this arm go 'snap' if I wanted to! All I need is a flick of my wrist!"
"...Do it then, you coward! C'mon! ...Do it!" she groaned valiantly in return. She would've retaliated with her free limbs, but the pain had quickly become too great, too inhibiting, to move – Pam kept twisting harder and harder and harder, and soon enough, all Clover could do was clamp her eyes shut, clench her teeth, and try her hardest not to scream. Yet one ended forcing itself out regardless; she felt like every bone in her arm was going to shatter to smithereens, as they did that fateful day on that beach so long ago...
"Do you feel that? Huh?" Pam cruelly muttered in her ear, "It hurts, doesn't it? Well, let that be a reminder that you are the one who started all this! All I wanted was to be left alone, but nooo, you just had to play heroine, didn't you?! Couldn't keep your stinking nose out of my business! Well, look where that's gotten you now!"
Then all of a sudden, the unbearable sensation abated; Pam had let go.
"You're lucky I was in a good mood tonight. Now do yourself a favor and go home! Don't come after me again; I know you're smarter than that."
Left moaning and heaving from the pain, Clover clutched her shoulder. She let her tired body slouch against the tree's trunk in order to catch her breath – when she noticed a familiar, coppery taste on her tongue. Her veins were so pumped full of adrenaline that only just now she'd become vaguely aware of a swelling ache in her nose, too... Curious, she pressed the tips of her index and middle fingers to her muzzle and then looked down on them, finding both coated in a fresh crimson layer.
Her nose was bleeding. A thick trail of the red fluid was dribbling down her right nostril; several loose drops had seeped into her mouth, staining her lips, chin and incisors, while the rest were freely leaking down to the grass at her feet like water from an open faucet.
She riveted her glare to Pam, who stood mere feet away, frowning with apathy at the gnarly sight. Perhaps she'd done it on purpose; perhaps it had been an unfortunate slip-up. It didn't matter to Clover; now her arm was sure to be but an afterthought. Time appeared to stand still as she wiped her muzzle with the back of her hand, before she coldly spat out the glob of blood accumulating in her mouth. Then, her face turned into a hellish snarl, a snarl meaner than any fossa's – and she roared at Pam with likewise hunger.
"YOU'RE DEAD MEAT!"
Crimson glanced wistfully out the open window. It was yet another slow, uneventful night at the Bootlegger's Bay – counting her, plus the single waiter and bartender, there couldn't have been more than twelve people there, almost none of which she had any real interest in talking to. In fact, she'd barely done much of anything but sit and drink in silence ever since she'd gotten here; the ambience was so boring and monotonous she'd even had trouble staying awake more than once.
She could've been having the time of her life at the grand Club Xanadu right now, yet here she was, withering away in this shack with no one to keep her company. This was what her nightlife had become...
She hardly even knew why she kept coming here at all. It couldn't be that she disliked the place – on the contrary; she did quite enjoy its cozy blend of maritime and tiki aesthetics, and beachside placement, which allowed for some splendid views of the Indian Ocean – but she needed more to feel truly fulfilled. Maybe it was simple habit by that point, since this had been her default hang-out destination for months now. And it wasn't that far from her home, which was something to keep in mind, too.
As she watched the silver-clad waves gently tumble over the sand, she couldn't help but wonder what her sister must be up to... Would she be sulking and miserable like her? Back then when they'd gone their separate ways, it hadn't been on the best of terms... She still hadn't forgotten the painful diatribe she'd secretly heard from that treetop, delivered with such sadness and anguish by Clover that one could've sworn she was either going to hit Maurice out of sheer unfettered impulse, or break down in tears on the spot. Naturally, the twins were no strangers to hearing spiteful things from each other, but those were mostly just part of their usual bickering; nothing to be taken that seriously. Crimson in particular would simply shrug them off and move on with her day, but now she was finding this a lot harder to do. It was obvious Clover had said every last word straight from the heart, and as such, had been the inspiration behind Crimson's sudden compliments on Clover's performance – a pitiful, yet honest effort to make her sister happy. For that one short moment in time, she'd gotten the closest she'd ever been to feeling ashamed of herself.
She let out a long-drawn, weary sigh. If only she had something to dispel this rainy cloud from her head...
Putting her cocktail down, she left her table and made her way across the cabin, passing by the bartender; an amicable, easy-going man of humble disposition, he was one of the extremely few people in here she could actually strike up a semi-decent conversation with, even if she wasn't in the mood for small talk right now. She'd even go so far as to consider him the closest thing she had to a friend.
"What's wrong, dollface? You're more sullen than usual tonight. Something on your mind?" he asked her in a deep, smooth voice tinged in a whimsical Southern accent. Since there wasn't much to do, he entertained himself by cleaning out bundles of used glassware with a washing cloth.
"Ah, nothing," she replied disinterestedly, "Y'know... same old, same old."
He smiled. "Heh, boy, do I know that feeling."
Crimson then bent in front of the one reason she'd bothered to get up: a jukebox that was occupying a forlorn corner. It was a relic from the late 1950's the manager had salvaged from the Cove of Wonders, once restored to its former glory and appropriately downscaled to a more compact size for animal use, but now, it had stopped working again due to a recent melee between two drunken ex-customers that had ended with it knocked over. Ever since that night, it seemed the bar had been receiving less and less clients – even the small coteries of beach dwellers down by the shore didn't seem very keen on visiting anymore now that they couldn't party to their favorite songs all night long.
"So, I'm gonna go ahead and assume there's no news on when you're gonna get this bucket of bolts fixed... is there?" Crimson asked the bartender, her dulled blue eyes sorting through the lofty stack of vinyl records that was on display around the machine's turntable.
"Nope. We've given that tenrec fella who worked on it the first time a call to come down here and take a look at it, but he's too tied up with personal projects or some other nonsense to bother. Who knows when he'll be available," he said.
She gave the jukebox a light slap on the side, as if that would somehow make it work, before she returned to her table and plopped herself back into the chair with another sigh. "Bummer... A lil' music would at least zap some life back into this damn graveyard." Then she went back to gazing out the window, remaining silent for a little while. "...Say, d'you have any siblings, mate?"
"Me?" The question must've sounded odd to him. "Oh no, I've been an only child my whole life! I always wanted a brother, though; it does get kinda lonely being on your own all the time. Why do you ask?"
"...Just wondering," was all she replied.
"Well... I don't mean to pry too much, but if it's because things aren't going well with your sister, you know you could just talk it out with her. That's how I used to deal with my Pa back when he was still around; we never did see eye to eye, he and I... so oftentimes, when stuff got real hairy, we'd sit in our living room and just let it all out, guy to guy – no stone unturned! We'd feel so much better afterwards... I reckon it shouldn't be that much different for the two of you."
Crimson turned her head to look at him in surprise. She'd never told him she had a sister. "How'd you...?"
"Hey, come on, I may be just a lowly barkeep, but I'm not that ill-informed!" he answered with a knowing smirk, "It's not like your sister is pretty much the only thing keeping our king and most of us from getting ourselves killed on the daily – which kinda makes her a celebrity in her own right too if you think about it..." Chuckling, he added, "Besides, the fact that you are pretty much identical to her in every regard gave it away the moment you first walked through that door."
She looked away again. "I'm not like her. Sure, we're literal twins but... we have nothing in common personality-wise; nothing at all. Sometimes I can't believe she's actually my own flesh and blood... We've never been the closest pair around, but now..." She huffed, her voice dropping a notch. "Now she thinks I hate her! As in, really hate her!"
"Hate's a pretty strong word," the man said. "I'm sure what you're going through is nothing that can't be solved over a few pints; familial love can be one weird and complicated son of a gun, but it can also be just about the strongest bond there is."
Crimson flashed a sardonic grin at him. "How sweet of ya..." Gods, shut up and spare me the philosophy lesson! Why am I even talking to you 'bout any of this?
She didn't want to pursue this topic anymore. What she needed was some fresh air, to stretch her legs and take her mind off. There was a group of five or six boys gathered around a small bonfire over yonder, drinking moonshine and messing around with an old acoustic guitar; maybe she could try her hand at hanging out with them. They weren't exactly her type, but at this point, she was willing to do just about anything to kill time. Perhaps, with a bit of luck, a gentleman more worthy of her attention would eventually stroll along – like so many times before, it would be child's play convincing him to return home with her to spend the night... At least then, she'd get to relieve the stress of today in the warm embrace of someone who would readily look past her temperamental flaws, and take her as she was.
"Screw this, I'm going out for a walk. Be a good boy and guard my seat in case I come back, okay?" she told the barman as she stood up and headed for the door.
He nodded assuringly. "Sure thing, angel. Not that anyone's gonna come in to take it, but... you go have fun."
Immediate access to the beach from the cabin (and vice-versa) was granted by a short, zigzagging boardwalk lit with bamboo torches. Crimson was nearing the end of it, when her ears picked up a sound somewhere above her; at first she thought it was just a passing seabreeze, or the toing-and-froing of the low tide, but then the sound become closer and clearer: the strenuous beating of wings.
She squinted her eyes at the starry night sky – there through the tops of the coconut palms, something was coming towards her. "What the...?"
"Coming in hooot!" a female voice screeched.
Yelping, Crimson ducked and threw her hands over her head right as a black feathered ball zoomed past like a meteor, then crashed against the wall of the cabin. She ran back to it to see none other than Xixi, lying beak-down on the floor on a daze, and complaining about her throbbing head.
The confused twin lifted her brows. "Uh, Xixi? What the hell are you doing here?"
The toucan looked up at the sound of her voice; she was panting heavily, exhausted from the harrowing flight. "You... your... your si..." she babbled, her throat too parched to form anything resembling a coherent sentence, "Oh gods! I feel like... Ugh, I feel like I'm gonna... throw up!"
Crimson rolled her eyes with vexation. Well, there go my plans...
Then she helped Xixi up, and guided her inside the cabin and back to the table, where she sat her down so they could talk. Before they did, however, Xixi asked Crimson if she could have what was left of her cocktail to freshen up a little, to which she agreed. She hadn't intended to finish it anyway.
"...Okay, so will ya tell me now what you're doing here?" she asked Xixi once she'd waited for her to finish drinking.
"It's your sister!" the toucan exclaimed loud and clear, "Something's gone horribly wrong back at the Big X; she's gotten into this huge fight with this girl named Pam, and there's no sign of it stopping anytime soon! King Julien and the others are trying to break it up, but they can't; she's gone ballistic! If we don't do something, this could turn into an all-out bloodbath!"
Crimson quietly glared at her. "...And you flew all this way just to tell me that? Wow..." She chuckled, the calmest irony in her voice when she said, "Breaking news: my action-loving sister, who literally revels in violence and fighting the dregs of our fine society, has gotten into a fight! Color me surprised! So what? Y'know Clo-Clo's fried way, way bigger fish than that; if anything, that git she wants to beat up is the one whose well-being your feathers should be in a twist about!"
Xixi slammed her left wing on the table, riled by the red twin's irreverence. "Frank dammit, Crimson, we don't have time for this! This isn't some random nobody we're talking about here – she and Clover go a long way back, and trust me when I say that this lady's totally off her rocker!"
"Cool – I'm sure Clo-Clo will be able to handle it. Now are ya gonna order something and pipe down, or are you just gonna keep being an annoying lil' drama queen?"
"To hell with that, man; what is wrong with you?! I'm telling you, she's not listening to any of us and is therefore putting herself in danger! I didn't know who else to go to – I mean, you're her sister, for crying out loud! If there's anyone who can knock some sense into that stubborn hothead, it's you! So please, pretend you care about her for once in your life, and – pardon my French – get off your lazy ass and come with me already, will you?!"
"Oi, you shut your damned beak!" Crimson yelled at her as she sprang from her chair, hooking her fingers around the table's edges in a bout of sudden rage, "I don't need this coming from you! Ya know nothing 'bout our relationship, so don't you dare act like you do!" Looking around herself, she gulped – the other patrons were all staring at her as if she'd lost her mind, and the bartender, too, had his gaze up from the mug he was cleaning, one bushy eyebrow raised at her. She exhaled quietly, then sat back down. "...Look, let's just... let's just start from the beginning. What's so special about this Pam that would make Clo-Clo require my help?" she asked in a more restrained tone, "D'you actually believe the situation over there is that bad?"
At this, Xixi let out a deep sigh. "I... Gah, I didn't wanna have to tell you this, but I guess you leave me no choice. I don't know if you ever noticed or cared enough in the first place to remember it nowadays, but there was a time when Clover got pretty seriously injured during a fight, a good while ago – we're talking hospital trips, broken bones, months-long limps, and all that BS – basically the whole frigging package." She leaned over across the table, beckoning Crimson to do the same. When they were close enough, she muttered, only audible to her, "Now, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, which I myself have become privy to not even an hour ago: Pam is the one responsible for it. That psycho could've outright killed your sister and wouldn't have given it another thought – and now, she's back to settle the scores at this very moment! Do you really want that with the beauty pageant right around the corner?"
Crimson's eyes widened slightly at the query; Xixi could read in her pensive glare that she'd struck a chord by bringing the matter up.
"Oh yeah, we've been talking; I know all about it!" she continued quite unabashedly, "I won't get into any of the shady stuff you're screwing the poor girl into, but there's a few things in there that seem to depend on whether she wins or not... Things that you apparently care a lot about... It'd be a big shame if something were to happen, wouldn't it?" She followed with a cynical smile, shrugging. "But hey, maybe you're right. Maybe your sis will be able to defeat Pam this time! ...Or maybe, you'll wake up tomorrow to find that she's been hospitalized again with one of those gory open fractures they're always showing in the science mags! I've pleaded my case; what happens now is up to you. You can stay in this pit all night, seeing as you're clearly having such a ball, or you can get out there and do something productive. Good night."
With those words, she hopped off the chair and back towards the exit. Her wings were so tired she could hardly lift herself off the ground, yet she wasn't going to let that stop her from leaving.
"Oh, by the way... that drink you gave me sucked!" she added scathingly before heading out the door.
However, she was only a few feet up, when Crimson abandoned the table at once and rushed outside as well. "Hey Xixi, wait up!" She waved at the departing toucan, who smirked to herself as she turned around, and settled down on the boardwalk's handrail. She was pleased to see how Crimson's hands had become hardened fists, and her face wore a vindictive scowl which glowed ominously in the hot firelight. "I dunno who this Pam chick is or where she came from," she hissed, "but you can bet she's going to hear a piece of my bloody mind!"