A Tiger in the Night

Visions of crashing plates and the smell of boiling vitriol fill the dream. It had been this way for a while now, and he began to wonder if it always had been, as if a premonition which became a memory is all his mind could create in his slumber. And whenever "Phineas, leave!" was shouted by his dream father, that is when he would awake. Phineas always was an obedient son after all.

This particular time, Phineas awoke from this nightmare with a companion. Next to his side snored a Wolf, his visitor for the night. Phineas was not traditionally the kind for one-night-stands, but he had become quite the regular at the local pub and becoming more used to their ways. He did not drink which is odd for someone frequenting a pub, but he was always entranced by the lights of the mage performers and the music of the bards that intoxicated all and enticed him to dance.

Phineas creeped out of his bed, the wood creaking and threatening to wake his guest, but the wolf did not stir. He made his way into the small bathroom and snapped his fingers to produce a small light. It was not much, but he learned a bit of magic from an old woman he stayed with during his travels. When they met, he was conning people on the streets with card and dice games to sustain himself, and Flora hated it so much that she just had to take him in to get him to stop the charade—at least that is how she always told it. Phineas suspected that she was impressed with his skill and found him charming, but she would never admit to that. She was a very warm and kind soul, something Phineas was not used to, his stay with her being some of the best moments of his life. She taught him bits of basic magic and he helped her around the house with things she could no longer manage. She was no tiger, but she might as well have been his mother for those two years, which only made her death that much more devastating.

In the yellow glow of the spell, he stared into his eyes with both pity and anger. He never dreamt of Flora or his old friend Loni, or, hell, not even his nightly guests. But that night is all he could dream. Of course, it was not just that night. No, that night was merely the crescendo of a cacophonous orchestra that started playing when he was born, and now he was ever vigilant for an encore.

He washed his face from water he produced using one of the first spells Flora taught him and willed the aches of his mind to be carried away with the droplets. It never worked, but Phineas never stopped trying. The drops fell and disappeared into the aether from which it came and the Tiger shook his head to dry himself and to realign his mind. He looked back into his room, the light spell illuminating it just enough to see the outline of the slumbering wolf. The wolf was snoring fiercely and Phineas half mused that maybe that was the real reason he awoke. He smiled at this and recalled the earlier part of the night and the fun they had. This particular beastman visitor of his had only arrived about a week prior and was loud, boisterous and cocky, but obviously in over his head. Phineas was used to analyzing people from his past of conning to his current line of work, and Phineas could tell that this wolf was newly traveling. It is not uncommon for Cats to travel once they become of age, almost like a rite of passage. Many Beasts came through his town and particularly through the pub. Though Phineas had been traveling for several years, he actually was not that much older than most of them just getting started on their journey through the world. He generally did not engage with them, avoiding them because they made him feel things he could not quite describe. If you pressed him to name it, he might say it was a mix of disgust, grief, and annoyance. His journey was not as jovial nor did it have home at its end.