They say the suit makes the tiger. Tun-Knee fingered the gold embroidery on the cuffs of his crimson undershirt; the decorative threading went straight to the cuff links that held the school emblem for Roar University. A legacy, the seventh generation of his streak to attend. With the black jacket and charcoal gray vest, his coloring and stripes were accentuated. “Today is going to be the per-r-rfect day.”
A little too excited to roll r’s like that.
Bump * Clump # Crash! “I’ll hop on your heads!”
Tun-Knee stalked straight for his home’s communal clearing room, knowing he’d find Ig-Ress. What he hadn’t expected was to find her in the state she was in. Swinging a stick around, having destroyed one vase, was his younger sister, bouncing around the room with a cheap pair of decorative bunny ears on her head, completely without a stitch of clothing on!
There were many outraged outbursts where this could go wrong, and Ig-Ress would dig her heels in worse. This required a strategic approach. “Sister, impersonating royalty is a serious matter.” He laced his words with concern rather than outrage.
“But, but, I was only…” She started, clearly caught in the trap of worrying and wondering what the penalty for such an offense was.
“I know what you were thinking, little one.” The scry was all the rage since the nation paid a premium to import it late once news of Loap’s involvement leaked.
“Maybe I should be Har-r-rmony, the battle death priestess.” This time, she made a kick.
That wasn’t exactly what the woman was, not that he’d lecture his sister about such things. Right now, Tun-Knee was more worried she’d accidentally get rewarded with the nudist profession after this behavior.
“Maybe something more subtle, after all, we tigers should be calm and unassuming before we pounce.”
Flapping at the door had both beast-kin twitch their head and go on alert. Crane postage at this hour meant one thing. “Brother?” Ig-Ress asked worriedly.
Late notices were never good news, as they were always emergencies, deaths, or draft notices.
“I’m sure father and mother are safe; their mission had a low difficulty rating, and they were even allowed to perform it together. Now go get dressed before the royal’s messenger sees you disrespecting the fluffel’s good name.”
While his sister ran off, Tun-Knee made his way to the door. It would be best to know the news in order to figure out how to tell her. Please don’t be both.
The crane-girl with the letter looked annoyed, sweat running down her brow. “I’ve got more of these to deliver.” With a feathered hand, she shoved the envelope into the tiger beast-kin’s hand before spreading her wings and taking off.
It wasn’t the black on gold of a death notification. The green on gold was for the royal draft. Service was mandatory, usually after the second or third evolution, depending on your path.
Ig-Ress spoke the obvious. “Brother, it has your name on it.”
But he’d only just evolved? What could they need him for? Cracking the notice open, Tun-Knee read the contents, dropping the letter in disappointment. “They’re sending me to The Academy.”