Evening 3 of the Moonlight Festival
I pushed through the crowd of bodies, the festival in full swing, a racket of laughter, shouting, and the occasional clinking of glasses ringing in my ears. The air reeked of roasted meats, spilled beer, and the faint tang of fireworks. People and beastmen alike packed every corner of Downtown Cirque, their movements an unpredictable mess.
A boar beastman, judging by the tusks and Fat, nearly doused me in his mug of frothy beer. The liquid sloshed dangerously close, but I shot out a kick that made him stumble back, grumbling. I didn't have time to deal with drunken idiots. My struggle through the crowd was exhausting enough, and it only served as a dangerous reminder: if I could barely fight my way through this, how could I possibly be ready for the
I winced, adjusting my stride. I really should've asked Liberty to make my new body taller.
Finally, I reached the storefront, sweat sliding down my neck. My relief was short-lived, though, as I was met with a wall of wanted posters plastered across the entrance.
"What the...?" I muttered, squinting.
The crude drawings caught my attention first; sketches of the infamous werewolf, teeth bared and eyes wild. But something strange caught my eye. Blank squares; just rows of empty, white boxes; sat where words should've been.
◻◻◻◻◻:
◻◻◻ ◻◻◻◻◻◻◻◻◻ ◻◻◻◻◻◻◻
35,000 ◻◻◻◻◻
I frowned, leaning closer.
"What are these squares supposed to mean?"
I glance to my immediate left, "Hey, dragon breath!"
A man holding a mug of beer, his grin lazy and mocking. "Yeah, toots?"
"What does this sign say?!" I jabbed a finger toward the poster.
He blinked at me, then chuckled. "Huh? Oh, that? It says:"
WANTED:
THE MOONLIGHT MONSTER
35,000 SEEDS
Just as I thought… It's not the poster that's messed up… It's me…
He gave me a drunken smile, patting my shoulder with beer breath, "Don't worry, sweetie. I couldn't read that good when I was your age either. Keep trying your best, and I'm sure good things'll happen to ya one day."
My face burned red. "Wait, wait, wait! I can read!"
As if on cue, a few nearby festival-goers turned toward me. The crowd of beastmen began to chant, their voices a mixture of encouragement and mockery:
"You can do it! You can do it!"
I ducked my head and shoved my way into the office, slamming the door behind me. My heart was racing, and my face felt like it was on fire.
"Okay, okay," I muttered, leaning against the half built wall "So I guess I can't read... That would be good to know sooner, rather than later."
I look around and see the restaurant in full swing, I could barely hear my own thoughts... I had to find Mr. Boris...
Where is he? He has to be here somewhere?!
The air was thick with the scent of seared meat and hotdogs.
My chest tightened. I need to find him, before it's too late... His business is booming, if the monster was after him and not Korra... Then the beast would most definitely return... And with a night like this... The casualty will definitely sky-rocket!
Finally, my eyes landed on the back corner of the room, where a shadowy figure sat hunched over a bright blue scarf. A cat-girl with a heart shaped sticker, and a pink hat, drinking a bottle of glögg! Her cat tail swaying in happiness.