23 How Have You Been? (1/2)

Miceter held his breath and closed his eyes before plunging into the bowl of soup. He shivered as the cold broth wrapped around him and cringed when he fell onto something soft and squishy. He quickly broke his head out of the broth towards the surface, taking in a breath of beef-smelling, wet air. He ran his paws across his furry face before cautiously opening his eyes. It was then that he met the eyes of the soup's owner.

A pair of sparkling hazelnut eyes, as wide as saucers, stared back at him in astonishment. The owner's mouth was slightly open as if he were about to say something. Broth spotted his freckled cheeks and a large, wet blob stained his white t-shirt. Miceter gulped nervously before he opened his mouth.

”Hi.” Miceter squeaked.

'Why did I say that? He can't understand me even if he wanted to.' Miceter berated himself.

”I-Is that a mouse?” The owner stuttered underneath the uninhibited laughter that conquered the tavern.

”Ha! This tavern has a mouse infestation!” A snooty voice laughed. Miceter cautiously turned his head towards the voice, inspecting the young man who had spoken.

The young man had neat, fiery red hair and arrogant silver eyes. He wore a smooth white dress shirt and a perfect red tie with a golden clip. Just from one look, Miceter could tell he was bad news.

”I knew this tavern was trash the moment I laid eyes on it! I wonder what we'll find next, bed bugs hidden beneath our pillows? Better yet--buried in our mattress!” The young man continued to insult the tavern as he picked up his guest towel. Miceter didn't even have the time to think before he was plucked up by the scruff of his neck from the soup. The wool guest towel blocked his eyes, trapping him in complete darkness. Miceter squeaked in terror as he fought to get out of his grasp.

”Aaron, let the poor thing go.” An old but soft voice sighed.

”Why? It'll just run off and create a bigger mess.” Aaron objected.

”Because I said so.” The voice snapped back.

”I don't understand--shouldn't we nip problems in the bud?”

”He's not a problem.” A hostile voice growled.

Miceter's heart skipped a beat. He recognized that voice...

...It's Zed!

”Zed!” Miceter called out happily.

”Wait, is this your vermin?” Aaron inquired, a trace of laughter hidden in his voice.

”I advise you to put him down in three seconds.” Zed warned.

”Are you threatening me?” Aaron asked, incredulous.

”Three.” Zed began.

”You can't be serious.”

”Aaron, let the poor animal go. As you can see, the owner is right here.” The soft voice interjected once more.

”Two.” Zed continued to count.

Aaron gave an exhausted sigh before releasing Miceter. Miceter quickly scurried up from underneath the napkin, running onto Zed's outstretched palm. He hugged his index finger as if his life depended on it.

”I advise you watch that thing closely.” Aaron coldly stated. ”Otherwise, who knows what'll happen the next time it's let loose.”