As the door to the tavern was opened, the sound of rain was drowned by the voices of music and cheering, as light and warmth spilled outside and over the entering stranger. He was hidden under a dark and hoary cloak, and he slipped swiftly between the seats and tables, and sat at a table in the corner, watching the customers cheer to the minstrel and his music. He looked to where the bartender stood, watching the musician while preparing a drink. On one stool was a disheveled man, his head on the bar, a half drained tankard in one hand.

One waitress lowered a plate of salad, cheese, bread and steak on the table before Antonin, along with a tankard of ale. As the smell reached his nostrils, he had started to eat, and something small moved in the pocket of his white shirt, then the dark grey rat emerged, before he nimbly leapt onto the table and started nibbling on the bread, taking small bites.

The Lone Fisherman studied the sign above the door that declaired in faded paint: THE WINKING MERMAID

Kreed heard loud voices, laughter, clinking mugs, music, and a crackling fire inside that was somewhat muffled by the pouring rain. The monk usually enjoyed rain, yet this was a cold biting rain that he found hard to push through. So The Lone Fisherman decided this was a good of place as any.

Even angelfish must swim through mud sometimes. The monk reminded himself with a sigh as he pushed throught the door.

The Lone Fisherman mainly used his fishing net as a makeshift backpack to carry his belongings in his travels, but earlier in evening he made a wonderful catch of fish. He had four ten pound brooke trout that was nestled within his net that he bore across his shoulders while his belongings were lashed to the end of his fishing pole. His Geta wood block sandals made a *clop clop* sound as he crossed the threshold and made his way across the tavern. 

The old monk felt many eyes on him as he walked. This was nothing new. He was a foreigner and was typically treated as such. He held his head high yet tried to appear unthreatening.

He came up to the bar that smelled heavily of treated wood and alcohol. The thick bartender/innkeeper had a curling mustache and bushy eyebrows that elevated slightly in a judgmental expression. "What can I do ye fer, monk?"

Kreed bowed deeply with his palms held in the 'Gentle Ray Gliding Over Stone' gesture, "My kind innkeeper, I have hear 4 fishes that I wish to sell if any person was interested."

The man coughed slightly that was obviously a laugh.

"I purchase my ware from the traders at the docks like everyone else, monk. I don't believe anyone here would be interested in yer…*ahem*…fish."

Composed as an ancient sea turtle Kreed continued, "Ah…well my good innkeeper is there any way I can pay for you to filet one fish, pan-fry with rosemary, bamboo shoots, lemon, butter, and then served as my dinner?"

"You want me to cook ye a fish?"

"Indeed."

"The one you caught?"

"Yes my brother."

The gruff innkeeper looked like he was debating throwing the old man out and taking his money anyways as his face became a dark red and his neck bulged. Then the man silently breathed out and held out his open palm for the money.

The Lone Fisherman pulled out coins from his large sleeves and paid the proper amount.

"It will be about half a fire's time before I can bring it to ye…sir." The man said finally before taking the fish into the kitchen.

Kreed turned and saw most men had already returned to their drinks and songs. Either uninterested, unfocused, or both they were obviously drowned in merriment, sorrow, anger, or other various emotions. Kreed found a more peaceful table that had only one other occupant who was eating a meal. He sat down gently and breifly noticed that the dark haired man had a small companion feasting with him, a small rat who was gently nibbling on bread.

Ahh, a man who befriends wildlife. Kreed thought to himself and felt tension leave his body, this must be a man of good mind body and soul to befriend a denizen of nature.

Kreed shut his eyes and began to meditate.

Upon the stranger's arrival, the rat quickly dropped the bread and hurried up Antonin's arm, waiting on his shoulder, watching the newcomer. The little rodent tilted his head and grabbed the bread crumb as Antonin returned it to him. He, Antonin, continued eating in silence, keeping his eyes on the stranger.

A few minutes passed, and the waitress removed the empty plate from the table. Antonin took a swig of ale. He pushed his chair a few centimeters backwards, leaning against the wall, and watched the man before him. He was, or at least seemed to be, old. His hair was silver with a hint of red, certainly from age. However old he may seem, however, there still was something different about him… Antonin felt he was a strong man… Strong and very skilled. He seemed like the a wise mentor, almost like a wizard. The smell of saltwater, fish, and seaweed was strong about him. To his side was a long stick, with a hook at the end, certainly a fishing rod. To the fishing pole were many items connected; objects and belongings that certainly returned to the old man. To his other side, over his shoulder, was a fishing net. It was dripping wet of river water and of rainwater, and seemed to be heavy. Judging by the strong fishy smell, it more than certainly contained fish.

Several more minutes…

Finally, Antonin pushes his chair back towards the round table, took a swig of ale, and slammed the tankard onto the table with a loud bang!, then, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, spoke to the stranger.

"May I help you… ?"

His voice was deep and strong, with a slight hint of command and mystery behind it.

The Lone Fisherman was knocked out of his reverie as the jug of ale belonging to the man at his table banged loudly on the table. Kreed had a difficult time trying to keep the smell of ale out of his nostrils. What he would do for one more dri-…

No. He was a monk of the waters and must refrain from the over-consumption of alcohol. Shaking the wishes of "drinking like a fish," one might say, he turned to the pale-skinned man and cackled slightly.

"My dear youth are you speaking to me? I do apologize as I was lost in thought, even the slow turtle must rest from work, yes? He he he."

Kreed had a longer look at the young man and noticed something very striking about his eyes. They were a vibrant mix of blood-red and gold-yellow. It was as if you were looking into the bellows of a forge. The eyes seemed to move with life even though they were fixed on him with confidence and strength. Yet Kreed could see that something was behind those eyes that was troubling. He gave a pointed and serious look at the youth and began speaking again with all of kindness and charity that his monk personality could muster.

"Actually young Sysa-senri, young shadow-seeker, is there anything that I may help you with?"

Aspect flicked the collars of her jacket up as she walked through the street. The rain was harsh and she felt cold droplets ripple down her neck. Fox. She shivered and dropped down to all fours. Her dark red fur blocked out the rain and kept it from reaching her skin. She trotted lightly down the stone road, her paws barely touching the ground. She caught the scent of food and lifted her head to smell it better. The smells came from a building across the street and she slipped silently over to it. Perhaps I can slip myself a bite to eat while I look around, she thought to herself. 

She ducked through the doors and entered the dark bar. She shook the water off her fur and flicked her tail as she glanced about the occupants. With a casual flick of her ear, she stepped towards the bar, where the majority of the occupants had gathered. Suddenly she heard a shriek from one of the waitresses and dodged a mug that was thrown at her. A large man was walking swiftly towards her. "Get out of here, you dirty scoundrel," he yelled at her. At this point a few other occupants had turned and glared at her. "Filthy fox, chicken thief."

She turned and glared at them, rapidly changing back into her human form. She gripped the mug tightly and thrust it into the man's chest. "Watch yourself," she growled at him. "What the lion can't do, the fox can." She bared her teeth slightly at the other patrons and didn't move until they had all sat back down. Once everything was reasonable calm again, she turned and went to the bar, leaning on the top with her elbows. She ordered a drink and drank it slowly. She enjoyed the soft burn of alcohol in her throat and licked her lips. 

After she got bored of staring at the other people at the bar, she spun around and looked at the people at the tables. She looked in one of the darkened corners where an old man sat talking with a much younger man. She sniffed, catching his scent. She squinted her eyes at him faintly, he's not what he seems. She glanced up at the ceiling and noticed the exposed rafters. She put her mug down and jumped upward. Bird. The small song bird flapped swiftly up onto the beams and glided just below the ceiling. 

She banked her wings and dipped her tail feathers so that she stopped on the rafter just above the talking individuals. She ruffled her feathers and transformed again. Cat. The red tabby sat down and listened to the men's discussion, her tail flicked back and forth. She felt a small smile pull on her face when she noticed the younger man's rat.

"No." Antonin replied to the old man, somewhat curtly. He looked around for a moment, and his eyes landed on one, swallowed another mouthful, then spoke again. "So, what brings you here ?" As he spoke those words, his eyes followed still the fox… Now a woman.. Now a bird..

The rat immediately hurried up Antonin's arm once more as the bird transformed into a cat; usually cats didn't scare him, but this one made him uncomfortable. After all, she was a shape shifter, and neither the rat nor the young man was used to seeing shape shifters. As he watched the shape shifter, who was watching him as well; almost like stalking the prey, Antonin heard a plate being lowered before the elder before him. He spoke once more to him, in a quiet voice and a slow tone, like one he would use while near a feral animal.

"Actually…As a matter of fact, yes," Antonin replied to the fisherman's question, "That skin changer's been making me uncomfortable…"

Then, almost out of nowhere, the whole tavern burst out laughing, whistling, applauding and cheering over something someone on the stage had said or done just then.