The story was a warm-up for me after not making a story in a very long time. It was something I came up with on the fly to get my writing gears turning again. I hope you like it and offer criticism and any way I can improve my writing is always appreciated. Thank you for your time.
Dearest Paul, I am afraid I will not be able to operate the store with you today - I have unfortunately come down with a severe case of hayfever and will be bedridden for the entirety of this weekend, my doctor has unfortunately quarantined me after checking in at the local hospital. But, I trust that you will be able to manage the shop by yourself during my absence, as a reward I will count these (and only these) next three days as overtime - which, you may be glad to hear, will be reflected graciously in your next paycheck.
Until then take care Hon, your boss Mrs. Catlynn.
The young wolf-boy, having finished reading the hastily written yellowed letter, dimly realized his prominent grey ears on his head were drooping - no doubt reflecting his unfelt sympathy for his boss's situation.
After all - it was thanks to Mrs. Catlynn, the kind and caring cat-folk who had in his time of need, offered the wolf-boy his first official job after having made the dangerous trek from his village in the far south Dom-Ha mountains to the gargantuan city of Olsted.
The young man had been simply amazed at the cities pristine ivory-white walls, having seen the water-locked city from miles away and how upon entering - opposingly his villages thatched straw roofs on their wooden cabins and dirt and gravel paths had compared to the sprawling maze-like roads filled stone and concrete buildings and all manner of shops not just simply dedicated to survival were packed with all manner and races of passerby and seemingly busy patrons all ignoring the new arrival who was quite prominently still dressed in his winter furs - a sign of just how different the weather was past the mountains in the south.
He received a few cursory glances here and there from passing figures, most wondering what a young wolf-folk was doing wearing winter furs in the warm and breezy climate that Olsted seemed to offer year round. In truth Paul was rather warm, having shed his fur jacket he looked around hoping to figure out what his next plan was having entered the bustling city.
GgggrrrrrRRowlll
Paul, having realized he had exhausted his last rations from his village elders - his tail curled around the back of his legs and his ears drooping in embarrassment trying to silence the sound emanating from his body, looking around for a restaurant would have to be one of his first orders of business he thought to himself - setting off in the direction of what was undoubtedly someone cooking Paul hurried through the crowd to the source of the smells that plagued his ever useful nose.
"Sorry kid, I don't know what your chiefs or whatever taught you but this ain't Olsted currency - your money is as good as rocks here pal. Now get lost I got hungry patrons right behind ya's."
Sighing, in resignation Paul thanked the ratfolk chef - whose chewed ears flicked angrily for his time and understanding, returning to the back of his kitchen whose wonderful smells continued to assault Paul's senses, the female cat-folk staff at the taverns counter gave him a understandably apologetic look but stories like his were common, a person who can't pay for his meal and who could not benefit the business was almost as good as wasting precious ingredients.
Having left the fifth tavern that he was aware of Paul, made his way out to the now hazily lit orange city, the sun was now ever slowly setting in the once bright sky - and for his part Paul had simply forgotten the time that had past as he had looked for somewhere to eat his hunger away.
Staring at the dirt encrusted and aged copper and silver coins in his hand Paul solemnly walked along the unfamiliar streets coming to a stop having looked around the now streetlamp lit city. Realizing he was in some village No, city square - there were street vendors selling quick bites all around the enormous water fountain, hunks of red meat roasting on skewers with their fat rendering off into a sizzling frenzy, vegetables spiced and seasoned grilling in large cast iron pots, sweet smells assaulted his senses to his left watching a woman give something undoubtedly sugary to a young girl and boy - watching the pair exchange small gold coins and paper for the delicacies made Pauls stomach churn.
Looking at his former village's currency again, Paul was mentally assailed by disturbing thoughts. Perhaps he could steal a few of those sizzling meat sticks, or maybe grab the children's pastries.
They were only a few feet from him, he was always quick on his feet he could do it - right?, right?.
Shaking his gray hair and wolf-ears back and forth a sign of his determined response, Paul was not of that disposition - He could never bring himself to do such a heinous act. What would his parents have said?
The shame it would bring to his elders, No - Paul simply would not give in to such inhibitions.
Looking at his seemingly useless currency, Paul resigned himself to retreating the coins to his leather pouch - making his way through the square again before walking on yet another unfamiliar winding concrete and paved stone path it became apparent that the temperature was dropping slowly, Paul watched as more of the cities whitish-yellow street lights seemingly without fire, started to slowly come alive - the source of the lights dancing little specs of some unknown origin to Pauls mere lack of knowledge of magic were a simple glance in astonishment.
The city of Olsted too, was transitioning with the arrival of the purple-black evening, with houses and shops now filled with the warm and inviting yellowish-light Paul was used to back home. He was dimly aware he was walking without a sense of direction carried on by the sights and wonderment of the now yellow-lit city, with shops and taverns filled with patrons all conversing at once creating a cacophony of loud but seemingly welcome air of business booming.
His stomach gurgled again, Paul looking to and fro, realizing that he could really do nothing to ease his stomach's cries of indignation, resentfully decided to find a place to try to sleep somewhere away from all the now busy nightlife sounds and people.
He came upon a alleyway, closed off on three sides, all the buildings seemingly around it had only faint flickering yellowish-light emanating indoors behind their glass panes, Paul found a seemingly comfy spot as much as one could manage really next to a small awning under a cobblestone stairwell jutting out from a cracked wall with vines growing from therein.
Laying his fur jacket on the mostly clean stone and paved floor Paul much like his kind was known for began to orient himself in the best way possible, settling to cradle himself in a fetal position on top of his heavy fur coat.
Something landed softly on his cheek, reflexively opening his bright blue eyes, he touched the now wet skin - water. No sooner had he even looked to the heavens above did more of the now increasingly fast and heavy raindrops begin to assail his lightly clothed body, Paul hurriedly covered himself with his fur coat pulling its patched and worn hood over his grey wolf ears and hair. It did not take long for him to be soaked. The coat had many stitches from constant wear, and though meant for harsh cold weather its fur lining was simply useless as it became soaked in rainwater - turning into a heavy weight that pressed against the poor wolf-boys shivering lightly dressed body.
Paul, having pulled his legs to his chest, was assaulted yet again by his stomach's unabated growling, this time almost ringing louder in his prominent fur covered ears than the now torrential rainfall all around him.
Paul's last ounce of optimism vanished with that thought, any thoughts about how great the city of Olsted was and its wonders vanished with it. He was truly lost, no money, hungry, and sleeping out in the rain in a unfamiliar-foreign land. Paul truly began to realize the ostensibly hopeless situation he was now in.
He was unable to get back home as the pass had certainly frozen over by now - he slowly, regrettably began to cry softly at first but soon uncontrollably as he was assailed by rain and thunder all around him until they at last melded together. His shivering body slowly conserving any last amount of energy Paul realized he was drifting off to sleep, adjusting his leather jacket he shifted uncomfortably and shivered in the downpour curling his soaked grey tail around his legs until he slowly lost consciousness his head resting on his now drenched knees of his pants.
He dimly awoke to the sound of a door opening its creaking hinges drowning out the rain, now a steady soft pattering - he was cold, very cold. His eyes dimly registered a shadow, something, moving down the stone stairwell holding something long and thin, it whatever it was, was looking at him in the dimly lit alley, he reflexively jumped up - pins and needles registered all throughout his body.
How long had he been asleep? No matter, he readied himself only to fall back down in an almost comical fashion - shivering as he was he did not make for an intimidating figure. Not counting his short stature but clearly soaked body and clothed as he was, he looked nothing like the wolf-folk that were so well-regarded from his home village. Paul readied himself mentally to run past the figure to the street, or if be told to get lost for disturbing the figure's property. Whatever the case - he did not want to get hurt and willed himself to get up again.
His cloudy-blue eyes had adjusted enough to finally make out the tall figure, a cat-folk, willowy with brown graying hair and prominent feline ears, clearly an older woman. She was dressed in a green faded evening gown with a light raincoat, after a minute or so Paul realized the object he had seen faintly had been her carrying an umbrella in her hand. Paul watched the woman trying to orient himself to stand so he could make it to the water soaked street.
The woman unabated walked toward him, positioning her hands around the umbrella Paul realizing how numb his body simply could not move on its own to escape, thinking she had every intention on striking him, he reflexively moved to protect his face shielding his ears and face with his arms cradling them in his legs.
