Today was a good day. It didn't matter if the aky was over cast and cloudy, it didn't matter if the waves of the sea were churning or if the fall chill was blowing through the coast making ripples across the tall yellow grass he set foot on. Today was a good day for it was one more day closer to payday.
Scar of course was not the otters name. It was a mostly self made title to sound intimidating but also fit well with the scar running across his eye brown and cheek, the bi product of a life of adventure and violence.
Scar was a wiry beast and short for his species, runt of thr litter one could say. What he lacked in height and build he more than made up for in intimidation. A wide brimmed hat with a feath adorned his head to make him fashionable, a saber at his side made others know that he was not defenseless, and the sleevless otter hide vest made others not dare to challenge that fact.
"You seem to be in a chipper mood thar mate. You've been whislin the same tune fer hours. Drivin me nuts that is."
"Payday always makes me chipper. Just a few more hours and I'm going to be rich…er than I was yesterday."
"Well sorry to rain on your parade but we need ta find ourselves some cover soon."
The otter looks to his side, passing Inktail a narrow glance. He didn't like working with others but he needed a field guide and the vixen came highly recomended. Named for her black tipped tail the brown furred swift fox had an almost tribale appearence. A tribal appearence that liked civilized food obviously.
Rolls of flesh hung over her leather loin cloth and clung tightly to her hips and neck where a second chin was starting to form.
She covered her torso in a leather jacket of sorts that left much to be exposed. Unfortunetly.
What can Scar say? He was shallow and judged people by their appearence. "I ain't stoppin so you can rest yer lazy arse. We are pressing onward through the night iff needed but-"
"Oh lazy nothin." The vixen rests her spear over her shoulders with both paws. "Storms coming. Bad one. You are going to have to stop soon, so 'less you want to make camp out in de rain I know a place up de coast. Not far. You'll like it. I prommise."
Scar peered at the vixen intently. "You just want a hot meal..."
The fox only grins, "Be that as it may there is an Inn just over that ridge near the woods. We can rest there tonight. Head out by morning."
Scar growls but pressed on in silence, tugging on the rope attatched wrapped around the prisoners writs.
With in half an hour the tavern can be seen. A simple building with two stories set against the back drop of the forrest behind it. It was built on a small rocky hill that gradually led to the shore to the west. A shore that was starting to turn violent.