Kali carefully counted up the words that she understood and the words that she didn’t and was satisfied that there were more of the former than of the latter. The ones she understood included ‘payment’, ‘property’ and ‘food’, so it sounded hopeful. She plucked down the poster, flipped it over and wrote “Aksepted!”, then signed with her muddy paw-print. She stuck the paper back to the board and went to find a warm place to wait for more news.
Where’s that stout?
Well…It took her a full day to reach the house. The map that had been provided to her by the bar-keep, who acted as go-between, was probably accurate, but oddly concerned with the exact position of trees along the route, and not so much by the actual paths. Never the less, there she was, looking at a grand old wooden mansion, fallen deep into disrepair. It’s once-blue paint was cracked and peeling and mostly fled, leaving an ill looking mottle on the timber. Broke-toothed windows stared out at a view they could no longer see because the jungle was taking back its space. Stone lions crouched in the undergrowth and the ivy looked to be doing its best to tear the whole place in two.
She spied a tent set up a few dozen yards from the house and turned to it, but her attention was caught by something; the merest impression of movement, something light, white perhaps, high near the ceiling behind one of those broken widows, that she only noticed now it was gone.