Toma's whiskers had grown nicely over the summer. By the end of August, they had reached half of their original length. Although they would never regain their former sensitivity, they already graced him with enough balance to walk in a (relatively) straight line without the aid of a chaperone. Surely when classes begin again, he would no longer need a buddy. The thought left a lonesome ache in his heart, though the pain is long overdue; he hadn't properly spoken to Hafsa in ages.
He'd been led down a very unexpected life. For a panther, his sense of powerlessness is more than ironic.
As for today, life has led him to the city center, daunting as it is, to spend the days with fellow CHAMP members (Desmond excluded, who was preoccupied with a certain hare). Having spent the entire summer pacing around the mostly abandoned Noah's Arc campus, even his timidity rejoiced at the promise of an outing with… friends? Toma isn't sure he understands the meaning of the word even now.
Nonetheless, he spots a familiar group of carnivores outside of the arranged meeting spot, most notably Monteiro who howls loudly at some inane remark uttered by the heavily pierced female osprey. Monteiro laughs at just about anything.
Toma approaches the pack, who noisily welcome his arrival.
"Whiskers!" Monteiro beckons. "Long time no see!"
"Hey, guys," The panther replies, somewhat bashful. It's been a long time since he'd spoken to other people, and during that time, he somewhat forgot how to socialize. "What's up?"
"Misery and woe." A chameleon starts indignantly. "Last week of summer vacation. Then we return to that cesspool."
"We return to the fight!" His husky friend nudges him. "Noah's Arc needs her brave CHAMPs, doesn't she?"
"Whatever happened to going to school for, I don't know, education?"
Monteiro blows raspberries at the word. "Since when does school ever teach us anything useful? Far as I care, we're doing the one thing that makes that dumbass academy worth saving."
The osprey raises a brow. "Yet you're awfully determined to stay in that 'dumbass academy'. Why should you even care if they kick us carnies out?"
The maned wolf only smirks. "And let some pencil-nosed virgin push me around? Yeah, right! Nobody tells this wolf what to do."
The group laughs along, except for the chameleon.
"Enough of this school gibberish. It's the last thing we should be talking about, considering we're on a very short timer. We gotta seize our freedom while it still exists."
"You brought it up first, moron." The osprey counters, but then turns to face the three story building behind them. "But let's head in."
Toma flicks an ear. "This is…"
Scentennial. Or so the sign outside of the establishment reads. The matte black awning and understated decor reveal quite the trendy vibe, as do the mostly young faces that linger around. Toma had heard of this place back at his old school. The cool kids who could afford it would all go after class. Toma, being poor, unpopular, and occupied with swim team, has yet to understand all the fuss.
"What's so great about this place again?"
Monteiro chuffs. "You've never been before? Man, have you been missing out!"
"It's just easier to go inside rather than explain." The others hasten him towards the door.
Inside, they are greeted by a surprisingly empty foyer, save for a reception desk. The meerkat who sits behind the counter offers a laid back smile.
"Sweet air-conditioning." The husky murmurs underneath his breath.
"Hi, welcome to the Scentennial. Do you have an appointment?"
Monteiro grins, whipping out his phone and showing the QR code saved on it. "Sure do. Table for five, two hours."
The meerkat quickly scans the code, typing this and that on her computer before her face lights up with recognition.
"I see you right here, Wolf Monteiro. It says here you requested… the mixed lounge?"
He nods, and the receptionist points to a pair of elevators on their right. "That will be the first floor. A server will guide you to your seats and take your orders."
The teens belt out their thanks and take the cramped ride up to the first floor. Once there, Toma is greeted by entrance room. A glass wall partitions them from what appears to be a very stylish cafe, complete with small coffee tables, couches and chatting animals. They slip past the automatic sliding glass door, and a tattooed pitbull holding a tray and clipboard hurries to greet them.
"Howdy folks. Follow me to your table."
"Hell yeah." Monteiro takes a deep breath. "This place gets better every time I come."
The others murmur in agreement, save for the largest of the group, whose yellow eyes silently scan his surroundings.
This place looks like a cafe, but after a few seconds of observation, it's clearly more than that. Small mugs and teacups do indeed rest on tabletops, but more than that, the customers are busy with something else. Hookahs of all sizes; the heftier ones occupying the table space, while the more portable sized ones are held by the stems. However, the shisha pipes lack the traditional mouthpiece at the tip of the hose; rather, it's attached to what resembles an oxygen mask. Each table Toma passes by are occupied by clusters of animals with the transparent masks strapped around their nose and mouth, fogged up by condensation of deep breaths. Occasionally, they stretch the masks free from their faces to continue their conversation, before readjusting them back to breath in whatever concoction is being fed into them.
The panther is still flabbergasted by the time he and his companions are seated. Their pitbull server hands each of them a single laminated sheet, listing a variety of categories and prices.
"Now, is this anyone's first visit to the Scentennial?"
Toma hesitates to raise his hand, but Monteiro does it for him. "He's new!"
"Okay, then let me explain a bit about what we do here." She smiles. "The Scentennial is all about providing animals with a relaxing and safe environment in which to destress. As you may know, an animal's sense of smell is maybe the most important and heightened sense we have, and it's important to stimulate our natural desire to engage with all sorts of smells. That's where we come in. Here at the Scentennial, we offer nicotine-free, completely vegetarian scents that any animal can enjoy. With these specialized hookah waterpipes," She points to the empty green on the middle of the table. "You're free to breath in whatever scent pleases you best. Along with a complimentary drink, you can have a shared scent for the group or an individual one served in smaller pipes. However, since you're here at the mixed lounge— that is, the lounge which serves both carnivores and herbivores— you won't be able to order the stronger carnivorous-exclusive flavors. We also don't offer any food. You got all that?"
"Uh, I guess." Toma mumbles, still distracted. True to the terrier's words, both carnies and herbies surround him, a not insignificant amount in mixed groups, laughing together in between breaths.
"I'll leave you guys to look at the menu for a bit." The dog nods, satisfied.
Monteiro and the rest immediately begin to bicker about what flavors to order.
"We should get one for the table!" The husky declares.
"No way, that never works. We can never agree on a smell we all like." The osprey sniffs, unimpressed.
"Man, why'd you have to go and get us a mixed lounge table?" The chameleon shoots Monteiro a dirty look. "These carnie flavors sound awesome. Look here, there's sectpro ones now!"
"The mixed lounge is cheaper." The crimson wolf shrugs.
"We'll have to come back another day."
"Oh my god, this is impossible…" The husky whines. "These all sound too good! Monty, what are you getting?"
"Cheesy Breezy is my all time fave. That one for sure."
The osprey makes a face. "Cheesy Breezy…?" She scans the description on the menu. "A blend of wet grass, rotting leaves and… cheese? That sounds fucking disgusting."
"Nah man, you don't get it. It's a canine thing. Something about those smells together… the earthy tones mixed with the cheesiness… It drives me nuts."
"You're nuts, alright."
"What are you getting, Toma?" The chameleon asks.
An excellent question. Scanning the items, he's definitely spoiled for choice. Floral blends, herbal concoctions, and unusual combinations that Toma had never even imagined together… There are even little recommendations for each one (Cheesy Breezy is indeed labelled as 'fun for canines'). He scans a couple of the aromas listed under feline preferences, considering a honeysuckle and olive blend, but one particular scent stands out above the rest.
"This one looks nice."
He points to one labelled "Freshwater Symphony", describing a peculiar mix of ingredients including sandalwood, oak moss, pine needles, clay and algae. It also specifies that this scent was designed with semiaquatic animals in mind, loved by otters and waterfowl the most.
Monteiro spies where his large index finger lands. "I dunno. Wouldn't you rather get something stronger?"
"I'll stick with this."
His friend shrugs. "Suit yourself. Hey, waiterrr! We're ready to order!"
After calling over the terrier, and getting reprimanded for making a ruckus, the group lists down their orders, and no less that ten minutes later, she returns with five of the smaller hookahs and small cylindrical capsules atop her silver tray.
"Thanks for waiting," She announces, distributing each capsule amongst the teenagers. "Do any of you need help setting up your hookah?"
"Um, I might." Toma raises his hand.
"Okay, hon, it's easy." The canine smiles and hands him the shisha pipe. "You just wanna place the aroma capsule right here…"
She sets the strange little mass on the bowl at the tip of the waterpipe, and with a swift hand, lights a match under it, where a small collection of coals begin to burn red hot.
"The capsule is gonna start burning, and the smoke is gonna travel all the way down the body," The dog traces a finger down the long stem of the hookah, settling on the base. "You can see it settling in the water jar. Then it'll go back up through the hose. Now, you're gonna wanna put on your mask."
She grabs the oxygen mask attached to the piper and carefully straps it around Toma's head, who wiggles it around until it is comfortably in place around his wide muzzle.
"Is it the right size? I did my best guesswork, but you tell me."
The panther nods politely.
"Good. Now is the easy part. Just breathe in, a nice steady breath, but not too slow."
The other animals at the table watch attentively as Toma's chest rises with his exhale.
"And breathe out."
Smoke dribbles out of the mask's exhalation ports, indicating a successful drag of the scent. The other carnies cheer and clap.
"Way to go, Toma!"
"You didn't even choke!"
"How's it smell?"
The panther opens his mouth and grunts, but finds his voice stifled by the mask. He places a large paw over it and removes it, letting it dangle around his neck.
"Smells real nice."
More cheering ensues. Her mission accomplished, the server leaves the group to relax.
"I can't believe I've never gone here before." Toma says after another long whiff of Freshwater Symphony.
"Me neither, dude." The chameleon replies. "Every high schooler ends up in a scent cafe eventually. Especially us carnies."
"I guess I never had any friends to go with."
"Boo, depressing." Monteiro jeers. "You got us now, big guy. Couple of CHAMPs."
The others exclaim in agreement.
"We gotta get Desmond in on the action next time." The husky suggests.
"Yeah, and the other CHAMP members."
"And Hafsa." Toma mentions, more to himself than anything.
"The pres?" Monteiro winces. "She wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. She's too well-groomed, if you know what I mean."
"Besides, what do you need her for?" The osprey says. "She's always on our case. Are you guys even friends?"
Hell if Toma knows. If he had any good sense, he'd certainly say no. She's the one who got him wrapped up in this whole mess, after all. If one looks at the facts, she manipulated him into working as a political pawn to suit her own ends. All those promises of popularity, and acceptance… She may as well have promised him a castle in the sky. She's a careless creature.
Yet.
Try as he might, he cannot muster a negative feeling towards her. Maybe because she was the only person to offer him guidance. To smile at him, even before it was convenient to her. To empathize with him the way only a feline could. To call him a friend.
Was his soul really bought for such a trifling price?
"O, fearless leader…" Monteiro waves his hand inches from the panther's slender eyes, snapping him back to reality. "Here I thought your collar went off again."
"Uh, sorry…" Toma smiles sheepishly. "Just admiring the view."
It's a valid excuse. From the first floor's floor-to-ceiling, there is a respectable view of the grand street beneath them, complete with a menagerie of animals hustling about in the summer sun. Though in reality, Toma's gaze was more fixed inside, seeing the mix of herbies and carnies chat as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Darkened by the contrast of the outside world's blinding brilliance, the room felt like a shadow world, a spectral fantasy hiding from reality.
The black feline takes a deep breath into his mask. The smell of a babbling brook engulfs his senses. Closing his eyes, he can image wading through a crisp forest river, the cold water nipping at his ankles, shrouding him from the hot environment. Maybe, when things were good, his parents had taken him to such a place.
"School's starting soon." Toma says to no one in particular. Redundant. Had they not already spoken of this?
"Yep." Monteiro agrees, even more redundantly. "You can feel it too, yeah?"
Toma nods. So do the rest.
Somehow, they all understood, as smoke oozed from their nostrils. The ancient instinct of creatures designed to detect calamity. Even as they joke, and smoke and relax today, soon they will return to Noah's Arc.
And something will happen.
AN: So... it's been a while.
Thank you for reading. As you may noticed, I've taken a rather generous hiatus, even for my standards. It was a combination of many things (real life responsibilities, major life changes, exploring other hobbies, the new Zelda game, the list goes on), but I will tentatively say that it is over. Fingers crossed.
I'd like to thank my very patient readers for waiting, and apologize for my tomfoolery. If it is any consolation, I am greatly enjoying my life, and these past few months have been truly invigorating. And rest assured, no matter how long the pause between chapters, know that I will never abandon this work until it is well and truly finished. I've always had that determination!
This great break in between chapters is also fitting considering we are about to enter this 'season's climax. I look forward to writing what is to come.
Take it easy and stay safe.