It had been an issue getting Fife to stay in his cat carrier. Maybe she shouldn't have called it that within earshot, but he was already too big and plump to fit in boxes made for other mice. "Well maybe ye should not be stuffin yer gob so much?"
A series of squeaks piped up out of the carrier. "Eh?! Me' weight's not the problem 'ere!"
huffing as she walked up to the counter. "First flight to uh, . . "
checking a piece of paper she'd written it down on earlier. "Rome, please!"
The quizzical attendant looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the carrier at her side, then looking to the patchwork clothes this girl seemed to deem fitting for wearing in public. Gytha merely smiled her wide smile.




"Ble~ech!
" Gytha retched into the bag as the plane seemingly tossed her about uncontrollably, like a ragdoll in a rollercoaster. Not only had she never flown before, but the turbulence was something else entirely. Supposedly, this wasn't particularly bad turbulence, but given a chance to speak, Gytha would strongly disagree. She had long since shifted to the colors of her forest, a soft shade of green painted across her face as she heaved a non existent lunch into the now second bag provided her. Had she even eaten carrots? She could only hope that Fife was having a better time of it, but there was little she could focus on other than her current predicament. Two and a half hours of this?! How could people survive travelling the world like this?! The pilots were probably the true Claimants here if they could withstand this as their day job. No, scrap that, they were as powerful as the Ancients themselves. She held back another retch as the plane shifted violently up and down with a shudder, her stomach lurching every time it moved unexpectedly.





Gytha sobbed as she reunited with the carrier holding Fife, crumpling down on top of it with her backpack at her side. Passers by watched incredulously as this girl blubbered at her pet cat (?) in the customs line, whispering or giggling as they moved past. Surprisingly, Fife had considered it like an extended, if scary joy-ride. Perhaps travelling in her backpack or car these past few years had toughened him up to the constant jostling, and though Gytha felt a tinge of annoyance at how much easier he'd had it, she was just happy to be on solid, unmoving ground again. The customs agents barely spoke to her when she finally came up to them, a snotty disheveled mess. Some people were just bad flyers.
Gytha was glad for the reasonably cheap motel room, her wallet was in a rather sad state and she hadn't dared check her bank account since last week. Enough cash for a few days expenses maybe. There was probably still enough money in her account . . Right? She'd settled in to the small cubicle of a shower for nearly an hour now, running piping hot water over herself in an attempt to wash out the smell of vomit. She'd have to change outfits too. Luckily she'd brought a spare set, who knew you'd need so many outfits when traveling? Her mother had passed on the news of the Coliseum event, but she wasn't really sure what that was. A big roman building where people fought. Would she have to fight someone to get in? She drew her lips to a line as she considered. On her best day she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag, but she could certainly run fast. Maybe she'd be the first to get there, and could still this textbook or whatever before anyone else got there? Now that was a bright idea!

Gytha panted as she ran through the streets, her small backpack rocking back and forth, bouncing around with each step as she scrambled through the crowds. How were there so many people here? What on earth did they all do in this place? And the way they spoke, a kind of rhythm to their words felt so, well, foreign. The world really was a big place. But she had to keep her eyes on the prize here, and no matter how delicious this Pasticiotti filled with cream was, she'd never be distracted by - she looked down realizing her mistake, already having been drawn in by the hawkers and vendors. No! She'd never be stopped by such simple trickery! The little shortcake muffin things were barely delicious enough to - She fled with all the will she could muster, bolstered by a fear for her wallet. It was some time before she made it to the coliseum, sweating and puffing. She'd managed to only buy a few more snacks and knick knacks. "Sa~afe."
she wheezed, walking towards what looked to be a gated entrance. This place was big, like, four houses tall big, but wider. She gulped as she thought about how much effort it would take to move all that rock. In her stupor, she idly walked up to the gate before a voice called out to her from the side. Something about not being allowed here? Was that right? Did the Roman Queen live here or something? It was pretty beaten up for a palace. She waved at the man then wandered away nodding, a devious smile across her lips. "Fife, I'll need yer help on this one!"


A loud high pitched scream filled the courtyard as the near cat-sized mouse scrambled up to the man, followed by curses and shouts, shooing it away. It was too quick for the man, quickly running up his leg before leaping off and fleeing, the shocked security guard wiping himself down in a dance of the heebie-jeebies before walking towards where Fife had run off, cautiously peering around for the mouse. Gytha, the little sneak that she was, had used this precious time to jump the gate, landing with a thud and scurrying to cover. She was in. What now? There was a textbook or something in here Florita wanted. As she skulked slowly down the halls she eventually came to a strange set of ruins, covered in moss and framed with grassy paths. Is this where she needed to be? She jumped as something crawled up her leg, realizing only after a moment that it was Fife. She tried not to let on that he'd gotten her back now.

It had been an issue getting Fife to stay in his cat carrier. Maybe she shouldn't have called it that within earshot, but he was already too big and plump to fit in boxes made for other mice. "Well maybe ye should not be stuffin yer gob so much?"
A series of squeaks piped up out of the carrier. "Eh?! Me' weight's not the problem 'ere!"
huffing as she walked up to the counter. "First flight to uh, . . "
checking a piece of paper she'd written it down on earlier. "Rome, please!"
The quizzical attendant looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the carrier at her side, then looking to the patchwork clothes this girl seemed to deem fitting for wearing in public. Gytha merely smiled her wide smile.




"Ble~ech!
" Gytha retched into the bag as the plane seemingly tossed her about uncontrollably, like a ragdoll in a rollercoaster. Not only had she never flown before, but the turbulence was something else entirely. Supposedly, this wasn't particularly bad turbulence, but given a chance to speak, Gytha would strongly disagree. She had long since shifted to the colors of her forest, a soft shade of green painted across her face as she heaved a non existent lunch into the now second bag provided her. Had she even eaten carrots? She could only hope that Fife was having a better time of it, but there was little she could focus on other than her current predicament. Two and a half hours of this?! How could people survive travelling the world like this?! The pilots were probably the true Claimants here if they could withstand this as their day job. No, scrap that, they were as powerful as the Ancients themselves. She held back another retch as the plane shifted violently up and down with a shudder, her stomach lurching every time it moved unexpectedly.





Gytha sobbed as she reunited with the carrier holding Fife, crumpling down on top of it with her backpack at her side. Passers by watched incredulously as this girl blubbered at her pet cat (?) in the customs line, whispering or giggling as they moved past. Surprisingly, Fife had considered it like an extended, if scary joy-ride. Perhaps travelling in her backpack or car these past few years had toughened him up to the constant jostling, and though Gytha felt a tinge of annoyance at how much easier he'd had it, she was just happy to be on solid, unmoving ground again. The customs agents barely spoke to her when she finally came up to them, a snotty disheveled mess. Some people were just bad flyers.
Gytha was glad for the reasonably cheap motel room, her wallet was in a rather sad state and she hadn't dared check her bank account since last week. Enough cash for a few days expenses maybe. There was probably still enough money in her account . . Right? She'd settled in to the small cubicle of a shower for nearly an hour now, running piping hot water over herself in an attempt to wash out the smell of vomit. She'd have to change outfits too. Luckily she'd brought a spare set, who knew you'd need so many outfits when traveling? Her mother had passed on the news of the Coliseum event, but she wasn't really sure what that was. A big roman building where people fought. Would she have to fight someone to get in? She drew her lips to a line as she considered. On her best day she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag, but she could certainly run fast. Maybe she'd be the first to get there, and could still this textbook or whatever before anyone else got there? Now that was a bright idea!

Gytha panted as she ran through the streets, her small backpack rocking back and forth, bouncing around with each step as she scrambled through the crowds. How were there so many people here? What on earth did they all do in this place? And the way they spoke, a kind of rhythm to their words felt so, well, foreign. The world really was a big place. But she had to keep her eyes on the prize here, and no matter how delicious this Pasticiotti filled with cream was, she'd never be distracted by - she looked down realizing her mistake, already having been drawn in by the hawkers and vendors. No! She'd never be stopped by such simple trickery! The little shortcake muffin things were barely delicious enough to - She fled with all the will she could muster, bolstered by a fear for her wallet. It was some time before she made it to the coliseum, sweating and puffing. She'd managed to only buy a few more snacks and knick knacks. "Sa~afe."
she wheezed, walking towards what looked to be a gated entrance. This place was big, like, four houses tall big, but wider. She gulped as she thought about how much effort it would take to move all that rock. In her stupor, she idly walked up to the gate before a voice called out to her from the side. Something about not being allowed here? Was that right? Did the Roman Queen live here or something? It was pretty beaten up for a palace. She waved at the man then wandered away nodding, a devious smile across her lips. "Fife, I'll need yer help on this one!"


A loud high pitched scream filled the courtyard as the near cat-sized mouse scrambled up to the man, followed by curses and shouts, shooing it away. It was too quick for the man, quickly running up his leg before leaping off and fleeing, the shocked security guard wiping himself down in a dance of the heebie-jeebies before walking towards where Fife had run off, cautiously peering around for the mouse. Gytha, the little sneak that she was, had used this precious time to jump the gate, landing with a thud and scurrying to cover. She was in. What now? There was a textbook or something in here Florita wanted. As she skulked slowly down the halls she eventually came to a strange set of ruins, covered in moss and framed with grassy paths. Is this where she needed to be? She jumped as something crawled up her leg, realizing only after a moment that it was Fife. She tried not to let on that he'd gotten her back now.

It had been an issue getting Fife to stay in his cat carrier. Maybe she shouldn't have called it that within earshot, but he was already too big and plump to fit in boxes made for other mice. "Well maybe ye should not be stuffin yer gob so much?"
A series of squeaks piped up out of the carrier. "Eh?! Me' weight's not the problem 'ere!"
huffing as she walked up to the counter. "First flight to uh, . . "
checking a piece of paper she'd written it down on earlier. "Rome, please!"
The quizzical attendant looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the carrier at her side, then looking to the patchwork clothes this girl seemed to deem fitting for wearing in public. Gytha merely smiled her wide smile.




"Ble~ech!
" Gytha retched into the bag as the plane seemingly tossed her about uncontrollably, like a ragdoll in a rollercoaster. Not only had she never flown before, but the turbulence was something else entirely. Supposedly, this wasn't particularly bad turbulence, but given a chance to speak, Gytha would strongly disagree. She had long since shifted to the colors of her forest, a soft shade of green painted across her face as she heaved a non existent lunch into the now second bag provided her. Had she even eaten carrots? She could only hope that Fife was having a better time of it, but there was little she could focus on other than her current predicament. Two and a half hours of this?! How could people survive travelling the world like this?! The pilots were probably the true Claimants here if they could withstand this as their day job. No, scrap that, they were as powerful as the Ancients themselves. She held back another retch as the plane shifted violently up and down with a shudder, her stomach lurching every time it moved unexpectedly.





Gytha sobbed as she reunited with the carrier holding Fife, crumpling down on top of it with her backpack at her side. Passers by watched incredulously as this girl blubbered at her pet cat (?) in the customs line, whispering or giggling as they moved past. Surprisingly, Fife had considered it like an extended, if scary joy-ride. Perhaps travelling in her backpack or car these past few years had toughened him up to the constant jostling, and though Gytha felt a tinge of annoyance at how much easier he'd had it, she was just happy to be on solid, unmoving ground again. The customs agents barely spoke to her when she finally came up to them, a snotty disheveled mess. Some people were just bad flyers.
Gytha was glad for the reasonably cheap motel room, her wallet was in a rather sad state and she hadn't dared check her bank account since last week. Enough cash for a few days expenses maybe. There was probably still enough money in her account . . Right? She'd settled in to the small cubicle of a shower for nearly an hour now, running piping hot water over herself in an attempt to wash out the smell of vomit. She'd have to change outfits too. Luckily she'd brought a spare set, who knew you'd need so many outfits when traveling? Her mother had passed on the news of the Coliseum event, but she wasn't really sure what that was. A big roman building where people fought. Would she have to fight someone to get in? She drew her lips to a line as she considered. On her best day she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag, but she could certainly run fast. Maybe she'd be the first to get there, and could still this textbook or whatever before anyone else got there? Now that was a bright idea!

Gytha panted as she ran through the streets, her small backpack rocking back and forth, bouncing around with each step as she scrambled through the crowds. How were there so many people here? What on earth did they all do in this place? And the way they spoke, a kind of rhythm to their words felt so, well, foreign. The world really was a big place. But she had to keep her eyes on the prize here, and no matter how delicious this Pasticiotti filled with cream was, she'd never be distracted by - she looked down realizing her mistake, already having been drawn in by the hawkers and vendors. No! She'd never be stopped by such simple trickery! The little shortcake muffin things were barely delicious enough to - She fled with all the will she could muster, bolstered by a fear for her wallet. It was some time before she made it to the coliseum, sweating and puffing. She'd managed to only buy a few more snacks and knick knacks. "Sa~afe."
she wheezed, walking towards what looked to be a gated entrance. This place was big, like, four houses tall big, but wider. She gulped as she thought about how much effort it would take to move all that rock. In her stupor, she idly walked up to the gate before a voice called out to her from the side. Something about not being allowed here? Was that right? Did the Roman Queen live here or something? It was pretty beaten up for a palace. She waved at the man then wandered away nodding, a devious smile across her lips. "Fife, I'll need yer help on this one!"


A loud high pitched scream filled the courtyard as the near cat-sized mouse scrambled up to the man, followed by curses and shouts, shooing it away. It was too quick for the man, quickly running up his leg before leaping off and fleeing, the shocked security guard wiping himself down in a dance of the heebie-jeebies before walking towards where Fife had run off, cautiously peering around for the mouse. Gytha, the little sneak that she was, had used this precious time to jump the gate, landing with a thud and scurrying to cover. She was in. What now? There was a textbook or something in here Florita wanted. As she skulked slowly down the halls she eventually came to a strange set of ruins, covered in moss and framed with grassy paths. Is this where she needed to be? She jumped as something crawled up her leg, realizing only after a moment that it was Fife. She tried not to let on that he'd gotten her back now.

It had been an issue getting Fife to stay in his cat carrier. Maybe she shouldn't have called it that within earshot, but he was already too big and plump to fit in boxes made for other mice. "Well maybe ye should not be stuffin yer gob so much?"
A series of squeaks piped up out of the carrier. "Eh?! Me' weight's not the problem 'ere!"
huffing as she walked up to the counter. "First flight to uh, . . "
checking a piece of paper she'd written it down on earlier. "Rome, please!"
The quizzical attendant looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the carrier at her side, then looking to the patchwork clothes this girl seemed to deem fitting for wearing in public. Gytha merely smiled her wide smile.




"Ble~ech!
" Gytha retched into the bag as the plane seemingly tossed her about uncontrollably, like a ragdoll in a rollercoaster. Not only had she never flown before, but the turbulence was something else entirely. Supposedly, this wasn't particularly bad turbulence, but given a chance to speak, Gytha would strongly disagree. She had long since shifted to the colors of her forest, a soft shade of green painted across her face as she heaved a non existent lunch into the now second bag provided her. Had she even eaten carrots? She could only hope that Fife was having a better time of it, but there was little she could focus on other than her current predicament. Two and a half hours of this?! How could people survive travelling the world like this?! The pilots were probably the true Claimants here if they could withstand this as their day job. No, scrap that, they were as powerful as the Ancients themselves. She held back another retch as the plane shifted violently up and down with a shudder, her stomach lurching every time it moved unexpectedly.





Gytha sobbed as she reunited with the carrier holding Fife, crumpling down on top of it with her backpack at her side. Passers by watched incredulously as this girl blubbered at her pet cat (?) in the customs line, whispering or giggling as they moved past. Surprisingly, Fife had considered it like an extended, if scary joy-ride. Perhaps travelling in her backpack or car these past few years had toughened him up to the constant jostling, and though Gytha felt a tinge of annoyance at how much easier he'd had it, she was just happy to be on solid, unmoving ground again. The customs agents barely spoke to her when she finally came up to them, a snotty disheveled mess. Some people were just bad flyers.
Gytha was glad for the reasonably cheap motel room, her wallet was in a rather sad state and she hadn't dared check her bank account since last week. Enough cash for a few days expenses maybe. There was probably still enough money in her account . . Right? She'd settled in to the small cubicle of a shower for nearly an hour now, running piping hot water over herself in an attempt to wash out the smell of vomit. She'd have to change outfits too. Luckily she'd brought a spare set, who knew you'd need so many outfits when traveling? Her mother had passed on the news of the Coliseum event, but she wasn't really sure what that was. A big roman building where people fought. Would she have to fight someone to get in? She drew her lips to a line as she considered. On her best day she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag, but she could certainly run fast. Maybe she'd be the first to get there, and could still this textbook or whatever before anyone else got there? Now that was a bright idea!

Gytha panted as she ran through the streets, her small backpack rocking back and forth, bouncing around with each step as she scrambled through the crowds. How were there so many people here? What on earth did they all do in this place? And the way they spoke, a kind of rhythm to their words felt so, well, foreign. The world really was a big place. But she had to keep her eyes on the prize here, and no matter how delicious this Pasticiotti filled with cream was, she'd never be distracted by - she looked down realizing her mistake, already having been drawn in by the hawkers and vendors. No! She'd never be stopped by such simple trickery! The little shortcake muffin things were barely delicious enough to - She fled with all the will she could muster, bolstered by a fear for her wallet. It was some time before she made it to the coliseum, sweating and puffing. She'd managed to only buy a few more snacks and knick knacks. "Sa~afe."
she wheezed, walking towards what looked to be a gated entrance. This place was big, like, four houses tall big, but wider. She gulped as she thought about how much effort it would take to move all that rock. In her stupor, she idly walked up to the gate before a voice called out to her from the side. Something about not being allowed here? Was that right? Did the Roman Queen live here or something? It was pretty beaten up for a palace. She waved at the man then wandered away nodding, a devious smile across her lips. "Fife, I'll need yer help on this one!"


A loud high pitched scream filled the courtyard as the near cat-sized mouse scrambled up to the man, followed by curses and shouts, shooing it away. It was too quick for the man, quickly running up his leg before leaping off and fleeing, the shocked security guard wiping himself down in a dance of the heebie-jeebies before walking towards where Fife had run off, cautiously peering around for the mouse. Gytha, the little sneak that she was, had used this precious time to jump the gate, landing with a thud and scurrying to cover. She was in. What now? There was a textbook or something in here Florita wanted. As she skulked slowly down the halls she eventually came to a strange set of ruins, covered in moss and framed with grassy paths. Is this where she needed to be? She jumped as something crawled up her leg, realizing only after a moment that it was Fife. She tried not to let on that he'd gotten her back now.

It had been an issue getting Fife to stay in his cat carrier. Maybe she shouldn't have called it that within earshot, but he was already too big and plump to fit in boxes made for other mice. "Well maybe ye should not be stuffin yer gob so much?"
A series of squeaks piped up out of the carrier. "Eh?! Me' weight's not the problem 'ere!"
huffing as she walked up to the counter. "First flight to uh, . . "
checking a piece of paper she'd written it down on earlier. "Rome, please!"
The quizzical attendant looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the carrier at her side, then looking to the patchwork clothes this girl seemed to deem fitting for wearing in public. Gytha merely smiled her wide smile.




"Ble~ech!
" Gytha retched into the bag as the plane seemingly tossed her about uncontrollably, like a ragdoll in a rollercoaster. Not only had she never flown before, but the turbulence was something else entirely. Supposedly, this wasn't particularly bad turbulence, but given a chance to speak, Gytha would strongly disagree. She had long since shifted to the colors of her forest, a soft shade of green painted across her face as she heaved a non existent lunch into the now second bag provided her. Had she even eaten carrots? She could only hope that Fife was having a better time of it, but there was little she could focus on other than her current predicament. Two and a half hours of this?! How could people survive travelling the world like this?! The pilots were probably the true Claimants here if they could withstand this as their day job. No, scrap that, they were as powerful as the Ancients themselves. She held back another retch as the plane shifted violently up and down with a shudder, her stomach lurching every time it moved unexpectedly.





Gytha sobbed as she reunited with the carrier holding Fife, crumpling down on top of it with her backpack at her side. Passers by watched incredulously as this girl blubbered at her pet cat (?) in the customs line, whispering or giggling as they moved past. Surprisingly, Fife had considered it like an extended, if scary joy-ride. Perhaps travelling in her backpack or car these past few years had toughened him up to the constant jostling, and though Gytha felt a tinge of annoyance at how much easier he'd had it, she was just happy to be on solid, unmoving ground again. The customs agents barely spoke to her when she finally came up to them, a snotty disheveled mess. Some people were just bad flyers.
Gytha was glad for the reasonably cheap motel room, her wallet was in a rather sad state and she hadn't dared check her bank account since last week. Enough cash for a few days expenses maybe. There was probably still enough money in her account . . Right? She'd settled in to the small cubicle of a shower for nearly an hour now, running piping hot water over herself in an attempt to wash out the smell of vomit. She'd have to change outfits too. Luckily she'd brought a spare set, who knew you'd need so many outfits when traveling? Her mother had passed on the news of the Coliseum event, but she wasn't really sure what that was. A big roman building where people fought. Would she have to fight someone to get in? She drew her lips to a line as she considered. On her best day she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag, but she could certainly run fast. Maybe she'd be the first to get there, and could still this textbook or whatever before anyone else got there? Now that was a bright idea!

Gytha panted as she ran through the streets, her small backpack rocking back and forth, bouncing around with each step as she scrambled through the crowds. How were there so many people here? What on earth did they all do in this place? And the way they spoke, a kind of rhythm to their words felt so, well, foreign. The world really was a big place. But she had to keep her eyes on the prize here, and no matter how delicious this Pasticiotti filled with cream was, she'd never be distracted by - she looked down realizing her mistake, already having been drawn in by the hawkers and vendors. No! She'd never be stopped by such simple trickery! The little shortcake muffin things were barely delicious enough to - She fled with all the will she could muster, bolstered by a fear for her wallet. It was some time before she made it to the coliseum, sweating and puffing. She'd managed to only buy a few more snacks and knick knacks. "Sa~afe."
she wheezed, walking towards what looked to be a gated entrance. This place was big, like, four houses tall big, but wider. She gulped as she thought about how much effort it would take to move all that rock. In her stupor, she idly walked up to the gate before a voice called out to her from the side. Something about not being allowed here? Was that right? Did the Roman Queen live here or something? It was pretty beaten up for a palace. She waved at the man then wandered away nodding, a devious smile across her lips. "Fife, I'll need yer help on this one!"


A loud high pitched scream filled the courtyard as the near cat-sized mouse scrambled up to the man, followed by curses and shouts, shooing it away. It was too quick for the man, quickly running up his leg before leaping off and fleeing, the shocked security guard wiping himself down in a dance of the heebie-jeebies before walking towards where Fife had run off, cautiously peering around for the mouse. Gytha, the little sneak that she was, had used this precious time to jump the gate, landing with a thud and scurrying to cover. She was in. What now? There was a textbook or something in here Florita wanted. As she skulked slowly down the halls she eventually came to a strange set of ruins, covered in moss and framed with grassy paths. Is this where she needed to be? She jumped as something crawled up her leg, realizing only after a moment that it was Fife. She tried not to let on that he'd gotten her back now.

It had been an issue getting Fife to stay in his cat carrier. Maybe she shouldn't have called it that within earshot, but he was already too big and plump to fit in boxes made for other mice. "Well maybe ye should not be stuffin yer gob so much?"
A series of squeaks piped up out of the carrier. "Eh?! Me' weight's not the problem 'ere!"
huffing as she walked up to the counter. "First flight to uh, . . "
checking a piece of paper she'd written it down on earlier. "Rome, please!"
The quizzical attendant looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the carrier at her side, then looking to the patchwork clothes this girl seemed to deem fitting for wearing in public. Gytha merely smiled her wide smile.




"Ble~ech!
" Gytha retched into the bag as the plane seemingly tossed her about uncontrollably, like a ragdoll in a rollercoaster. Not only had she never flown before, but the turbulence was something else entirely. Supposedly, this wasn't particularly bad turbulence, but given a chance to speak, Gytha would strongly disagree. She had long since shifted to the colors of her forest, a soft shade of green painted across her face as she heaved a non existent lunch into the now second bag provided her. Had she even eaten carrots? She could only hope that Fife was having a better time of it, but there was little she could focus on other than her current predicament. Two and a half hours of this?! How could people survive travelling the world like this?! The pilots were probably the true Claimants here if they could withstand this as their day job. No, scrap that, they were as powerful as the Ancients themselves. She held back another retch as the plane shifted violently up and down with a shudder, her stomach lurching every time it moved unexpectedly.





Gytha sobbed as she reunited with the carrier holding Fife, crumpling down on top of it with her backpack at her side. Passers by watched incredulously as this girl blubbered at her pet cat (?) in the customs line, whispering or giggling as they moved past. Surprisingly, Fife had considered it like an extended, if scary joy-ride. Perhaps travelling in her backpack or car these past few years had toughened him up to the constant jostling, and though Gytha felt a tinge of annoyance at how much easier he'd had it, she was just happy to be on solid, unmoving ground again. The customs agents barely spoke to her when she finally came up to them, a snotty disheveled mess. Some people were just bad flyers.
Gytha was glad for the reasonably cheap motel room, her wallet was in a rather sad state and she hadn't dared check her bank account since last week. Enough cash for a few days expenses maybe. There was probably still enough money in her account . . Right? She'd settled in to the small cubicle of a shower for nearly an hour now, running piping hot water over herself in an attempt to wash out the smell of vomit. She'd have to change outfits too. Luckily she'd brought a spare set, who knew you'd need so many outfits when traveling? Her mother had passed on the news of the Coliseum event, but she wasn't really sure what that was. A big roman building where people fought. Would she have to fight someone to get in? She drew her lips to a line as she considered. On her best day she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag, but she could certainly run fast. Maybe she'd be the first to get there, and could still this textbook or whatever before anyone else got there? Now that was a bright idea!

Gytha panted as she ran through the streets, her small backpack rocking back and forth, bouncing around with each step as she scrambled through the crowds. How were there so many people here? What on earth did they all do in this place? And the way they spoke, a kind of rhythm to their words felt so, well, foreign. The world really was a big place. But she had to keep her eyes on the prize here, and no matter how delicious this Pasticiotti filled with cream was, she'd never be distracted by - she looked down realizing her mistake, already having been drawn in by the hawkers and vendors. No! She'd never be stopped by such simple trickery! The little shortcake muffin things were barely delicious enough to - She fled with all the will she could muster, bolstered by a fear for her wallet. It was some time before she made it to the coliseum, sweating and puffing. She'd managed to only buy a few more snacks and knick knacks. "Sa~afe."
she wheezed, walking towards what looked to be a gated entrance. This place was big, like, four houses tall big, but wider. She gulped as she thought about how much effort it would take to move all that rock. In her stupor, she idly walked up to the gate before a voice called out to her from the side. Something about not being allowed here? Was that right? Did the Roman Queen live here or something? It was pretty beaten up for a palace. She waved at the man then wandered away nodding, a devious smile across her lips. "Fife, I'll need yer help on this one!"


A loud high pitched scream filled the courtyard as the near cat-sized mouse scrambled up to the man, followed by curses and shouts, shooing it away. It was too quick for the man, quickly running up his leg before leaping off and fleeing, the shocked security guard wiping himself down in a dance of the heebie-jeebies before walking towards where Fife had run off, cautiously peering around for the mouse. Gytha, the little sneak that she was, had used this precious time to jump the gate, landing with a thud and scurrying to cover. She was in. What now? There was a textbook or something in here Florita wanted. As she skulked slowly down the halls she eventually came to a strange set of ruins, covered in moss and framed with grassy paths. Is this where she needed to be? She jumped as something crawled up her leg, realizing only after a moment that it was Fife. She tried not to let on that he'd gotten her back now.

It had been an issue getting Fife to stay in his cat carrier. Maybe she shouldn't have called it that within earshot, but he was already too big and plump to fit in boxes made for other mice. "Well maybe ye should not be stuffin yer gob so much?"
A series of squeaks piped up out of the carrier. "Eh?! Me' weight's not the problem 'ere!"
huffing as she walked up to the counter. "First flight to uh, . . "
checking a piece of paper she'd written it down on earlier. "Rome, please!"
The quizzical attendant looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the carrier at her side, then looking to the patchwork clothes this girl seemed to deem fitting for wearing in public. Gytha merely smiled her wide smile.




"Ble~ech!
" Gytha retched into the bag as the plane seemingly tossed her about uncontrollably, like a ragdoll in a rollercoaster. Not only had she never flown before, but the turbulence was something else entirely. Supposedly, this wasn't particularly bad turbulence, but given a chance to speak, Gytha would strongly disagree. She had long since shifted to the colors of her forest, a soft shade of green painted across her face as she heaved a non existent lunch into the now second bag provided her. Had she even eaten carrots? She could only hope that Fife was having a better time of it, but there was little she could focus on other than her current predicament. Two and a half hours of this?! How could people survive travelling the world like this?! The pilots were probably the true Claimants here if they could withstand this as their day job. No, scrap that, they were as powerful as the Ancients themselves. She held back another retch as the plane shifted violently up and down with a shudder, her stomach lurching every time it moved unexpectedly.





Gytha sobbed as she reunited with the carrier holding Fife, crumpling down on top of it with her backpack at her side. Passers by watched incredulously as this girl blubbered at her pet cat (?) in the customs line, whispering or giggling as they moved past. Surprisingly, Fife had considered it like an extended, if scary joy-ride. Perhaps travelling in her backpack or car these past few years had toughened him up to the constant jostling, and though Gytha felt a tinge of annoyance at how much easier he'd had it, she was just happy to be on solid, unmoving ground again. The customs agents barely spoke to her when she finally came up to them, a snotty disheveled mess. Some people were just bad flyers.
Gytha was glad for the reasonably cheap motel room, her wallet was in a rather sad state and she hadn't dared check her bank account since last week. Enough cash for a few days expenses maybe. There was probably still enough money in her account . . Right? She'd settled in to the small cubicle of a shower for nearly an hour now, running piping hot water over herself in an attempt to wash out the smell of vomit. She'd have to change outfits too. Luckily she'd brought a spare set, who knew you'd need so many outfits when traveling? Her mother had passed on the news of the Coliseum event, but she wasn't really sure what that was. A big roman building where people fought. Would she have to fight someone to get in? She drew her lips to a line as she considered. On her best day she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag, but she could certainly run fast. Maybe she'd be the first to get there, and could still this textbook or whatever before anyone else got there? Now that was a bright idea!

Gytha panted as she ran through the streets, her small backpack rocking back and forth, bouncing around with each step as she scrambled through the crowds. How were there so many people here? What on earth did they all do in this place? And the way they spoke, a kind of rhythm to their words felt so, well, foreign. The world really was a big place. But she had to keep her eyes on the prize here, and no matter how delicious this Pasticiotti filled with cream was, she'd never be distracted by - she looked down realizing her mistake, already having been drawn in by the hawkers and vendors. No! She'd never be stopped by such simple trickery! The little shortcake muffin things were barely delicious enough to - She fled with all the will she could muster, bolstered by a fear for her wallet. It was some time before she made it to the coliseum, sweating and puffing. She'd managed to only buy a few more snacks and knick knacks. "Sa~afe."
she wheezed, walking towards what looked to be a gated entrance. This place was big, like, four houses tall big, but wider. She gulped as she thought about how much effort it would take to move all that rock. In her stupor, she idly walked up to the gate before a voice called out to her from the side. Something about not being allowed here? Was that right? Did the Roman Queen live here or something? It was pretty beaten up for a palace. She waved at the man then wandered away nodding, a devious smile across her lips. "Fife, I'll need yer help on this one!"


A loud high pitched scream filled the courtyard as the near cat-sized mouse scrambled up to the man, followed by curses and shouts, shooing it away. It was too quick for the man, quickly running up his leg before leaping off and fleeing, the shocked security guard wiping himself down in a dance of the heebie-jeebies before walking towards where Fife had run off, cautiously peering around for the mouse. Gytha, the little sneak that she was, had used this precious time to jump the gate, landing with a thud and scurrying to cover. She was in. What now? There was a textbook or something in here Florita wanted. As she skulked slowly down the halls she eventually came to a strange set of ruins, covered in moss and framed with grassy paths. Is this where she needed to be? She jumped as something crawled up her leg, realizing only after a moment that it was Fife. She tried not to let on that he'd gotten her back now.

It had been an issue getting Fife to stay in his cat carrier. Maybe she shouldn't have called it that within earshot, but he was already too big and plump to fit in boxes made for other mice. "Well maybe ye should not be stuffin yer gob so much?"
A series of squeaks piped up out of the carrier. "Eh?! Me' weight's not the problem 'ere!"
huffing as she walked up to the counter. "First flight to uh, . . "
checking a piece of paper she'd written it down on earlier. "Rome, please!"
The quizzical attendant looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the carrier at her side, then looking to the patchwork clothes this girl seemed to deem fitting for wearing in public. Gytha merely smiled her wide smile.




"Ble~ech!
" Gytha retched into the bag as the plane seemingly tossed her about uncontrollably, like a ragdoll in a rollercoaster. Not only had she never flown before, but the turbulence was something else entirely. Supposedly, this wasn't particularly bad turbulence, but given a chance to speak, Gytha would strongly disagree. She had long since shifted to the colors of her forest, a soft shade of green painted across her face as she heaved a non existent lunch into the now second bag provided her. Had she even eaten carrots? She could only hope that Fife was having a better time of it, but there was little she could focus on other than her current predicament. Two and a half hours of this?! How could people survive travelling the world like this?! The pilots were probably the true Claimants here if they could withstand this as their day job. No, scrap that, they were as powerful as the Ancients themselves. She held back another retch as the plane shifted violently up and down with a shudder, her stomach lurching every time it moved unexpectedly.





Gytha sobbed as she reunited with the carrier holding Fife, crumpling down on top of it with her backpack at her side. Passers by watched incredulously as this girl blubbered at her pet cat (?) in the customs line, whispering or giggling as they moved past. Surprisingly, Fife had considered it like an extended, if scary joy-ride. Perhaps travelling in her backpack or car these past few years had toughened him up to the constant jostling, and though Gytha felt a tinge of annoyance at how much easier he'd had it, she was just happy to be on solid, unmoving ground again. The customs agents barely spoke to her when she finally came up to them, a snotty disheveled mess. Some people were just bad flyers.
Gytha was glad for the reasonably cheap motel room, her wallet was in a rather sad state and she hadn't dared check her bank account since last week. Enough cash for a few days expenses maybe. There was probably still enough money in her account . . Right? She'd settled in to the small cubicle of a shower for nearly an hour now, running piping hot water over herself in an attempt to wash out the smell of vomit. She'd have to change outfits too. Luckily she'd brought a spare set, who knew you'd need so many outfits when traveling? Her mother had passed on the news of the Coliseum event, but she wasn't really sure what that was. A big roman building where people fought. Would she have to fight someone to get in? She drew her lips to a line as she considered. On her best day she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag, but she could certainly run fast. Maybe she'd be the first to get there, and could still this textbook or whatever before anyone else got there? Now that was a bright idea!

Gytha panted as she ran through the streets, her small backpack rocking back and forth, bouncing around with each step as she scrambled through the crowds. How were there so many people here? What on earth did they all do in this place? And the way they spoke, a kind of rhythm to their words felt so, well, foreign. The world really was a big place. But she had to keep her eyes on the prize here, and no matter how delicious this Pasticiotti filled with cream was, she'd never be distracted by - she looked down realizing her mistake, already having been drawn in by the hawkers and vendors. No! She'd never be stopped by such simple trickery! The little shortcake muffin things were barely delicious enough to - She fled with all the will she could muster, bolstered by a fear for her wallet. It was some time before she made it to the coliseum, sweating and puffing. She'd managed to only buy a few more snacks and knick knacks. "Sa~afe."
she wheezed, walking towards what looked to be a gated entrance. This place was big, like, four houses tall big, but wider. She gulped as she thought about how much effort it would take to move all that rock. In her stupor, she idly walked up to the gate before a voice called out to her from the side. Something about not being allowed here? Was that right? Did the Roman Queen live here or something? It was pretty beaten up for a palace. She waved at the man then wandered away nodding, a devious smile across her lips. "Fife, I'll need yer help on this one!"


A loud high pitched scream filled the courtyard as the near cat-sized mouse scrambled up to the man, followed by curses and shouts, shooing it away. It was too quick for the man, quickly running up his leg before leaping off and fleeing, the shocked security guard wiping himself down in a dance of the heebie-jeebies before walking towards where Fife had run off, cautiously peering around for the mouse. Gytha, the little sneak that she was, had used this precious time to jump the gate, landing with a thud and scurrying to cover. She was in. What now? There was a textbook or something in here Florita wanted. As she skulked slowly down the halls she eventually came to a strange set of ruins, covered in moss and framed with grassy paths. Is this where she needed to be? She jumped as something crawled up her leg, realizing only after a moment that it was Fife. She tried not to let on that he'd gotten her back now.

It had been an issue getting Fife to stay in his cat carrier. Maybe she shouldn't have called it that within earshot, but he was already too big and plump to fit in boxes made for other mice. "Well maybe ye should not be stuffin yer gob so much?"
A series of squeaks piped up out of the carrier. "Eh?! Me' weight's not the problem 'ere!"
huffing as she walked up to the counter. "First flight to uh, . . "
checking a piece of paper she'd written it down on earlier. "Rome, please!"
The quizzical attendant looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the carrier at her side, then looking to the patchwork clothes this girl seemed to deem fitting for wearing in public. Gytha merely smiled her wide smile.




"Ble~ech!
" Gytha retched into the bag as the plane seemingly tossed her about uncontrollably, like a ragdoll in a rollercoaster. Not only had she never flown before, but the turbulence was something else entirely. Supposedly, this wasn't particularly bad turbulence, but given a chance to speak, Gytha would strongly disagree. She had long since shifted to the colors of her forest, a soft shade of green painted across her face as she heaved a non existent lunch into the now second bag provided her. Had she even eaten carrots? She could only hope that Fife was having a better time of it, but there was little she could focus on other than her current predicament. Two and a half hours of this?! How could people survive travelling the world like this?! The pilots were probably the true Claimants here if they could withstand this as their day job. No, scrap that, they were as powerful as the Ancients themselves. She held back another retch as the plane shifted violently up and down with a shudder, her stomach lurching every time it moved unexpectedly.





Gytha sobbed as she reunited with the carrier holding Fife, crumpling down on top of it with her backpack at her side. Passers by watched incredulously as this girl blubbered at her pet cat (?) in the customs line, whispering or giggling as they moved past. Surprisingly, Fife had considered it like an extended, if scary joy-ride. Perhaps travelling in her backpack or car these past few years had toughened him up to the constant jostling, and though Gytha felt a tinge of annoyance at how much easier he'd had it, she was just happy to be on solid, unmoving ground again. The customs agents barely spoke to her when she finally came up to them, a snotty disheveled mess. Some people were just bad flyers.
Gytha was glad for the reasonably cheap motel room, her wallet was in a rather sad state and she hadn't dared check her bank account since last week. Enough cash for a few days expenses maybe. There was probably still enough money in her account . . Right? She'd settled in to the small cubicle of a shower for nearly an hour now, running piping hot water over herself in an attempt to wash out the smell of vomit. She'd have to change outfits too. Luckily she'd brought a spare set, who knew you'd need so many outfits when traveling? Her mother had passed on the news of the Coliseum event, but she wasn't really sure what that was. A big roman building where people fought. Would she have to fight someone to get in? She drew her lips to a line as she considered. On her best day she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag, but she could certainly run fast. Maybe she'd be the first to get there, and could still this textbook or whatever before anyone else got there? Now that was a bright idea!

Gytha panted as she ran through the streets, her small backpack rocking back and forth, bouncing around with each step as she scrambled through the crowds. How were there so many people here? What on earth did they all do in this place? And the way they spoke, a kind of rhythm to their words felt so, well, foreign. The world really was a big place. But she had to keep her eyes on the prize here, and no matter how delicious this Pasticiotti filled with cream was, she'd never be distracted by - she looked down realizing her mistake, already having been drawn in by the hawkers and vendors. No! She'd never be stopped by such simple trickery! The little shortcake muffin things were barely delicious enough to - She fled with all the will she could muster, bolstered by a fear for her wallet. It was some time before she made it to the coliseum, sweating and puffing. She'd managed to only buy a few more snacks and knick knacks. "Sa~afe."
she wheezed, walking towards what looked to be a gated entrance. This place was big, like, four houses tall big, but wider. She gulped as she thought about how much effort it would take to move all that rock. In her stupor, she idly walked up to the gate before a voice called out to her from the side. Something about not being allowed here? Was that right? Did the Roman Queen live here or something? It was pretty beaten up for a palace. She waved at the man then wandered away nodding, a devious smile across her lips. "Fife, I'll need yer help on this one!"


A loud high pitched scream filled the courtyard as the near cat-sized mouse scrambled up to the man, followed by curses and shouts, shooing it away. It was too quick for the man, quickly running up his leg before leaping off and fleeing, the shocked security guard wiping himself down in a dance of the heebie-jeebies before walking towards where Fife had run off, cautiously peering around for the mouse. Gytha, the little sneak that she was, had used this precious time to jump the gate, landing with a thud and scurrying to cover. She was in. What now? There was a textbook or something in here Florita wanted. As she skulked slowly down the halls she eventually came to a strange set of ruins, covered in moss and framed with grassy paths. Is this where she needed to be? She jumped as something crawled up her leg, realizing only after a moment that it was Fife. She tried not to let on that he'd gotten her back now.

It had been an issue getting Fife to stay in his cat carrier. Maybe she shouldn't have called it that within earshot, but he was already too big and plump to fit in boxes made for other mice. "Well maybe ye should not be stuffin yer gob so much?"
A series of squeaks piped up out of the carrier. "Eh?! Me' weight's not the problem 'ere!"
huffing as she walked up to the counter. "First flight to uh, . . "
checking a piece of paper she'd written it down on earlier. "Rome, please!"
The quizzical attendant looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the carrier at her side, then looking to the patchwork clothes this girl seemed to deem fitting for wearing in public. Gytha merely smiled her wide smile.




"Ble~ech!
" Gytha retched into the bag as the plane seemingly tossed her about uncontrollably, like a ragdoll in a rollercoaster. Not only had she never flown before, but the turbulence was something else entirely. Supposedly, this wasn't particularly bad turbulence, but given a chance to speak, Gytha would strongly disagree. She had long since shifted to the colors of her forest, a soft shade of green painted across her face as she heaved a non existent lunch into the now second bag provided her. Had she even eaten carrots? She could only hope that Fife was having a better time of it, but there was little she could focus on other than her current predicament. Two and a half hours of this?! How could people survive travelling the world like this?! The pilots were probably the true Claimants here if they could withstand this as their day job. No, scrap that, they were as powerful as the Ancients themselves. She held back another retch as the plane shifted violently up and down with a shudder, her stomach lurching every time it moved unexpectedly.





Gytha sobbed as she reunited with the carrier holding Fife, crumpling down on top of it with her backpack at her side. Passers by watched incredulously as this girl blubbered at her pet cat (?) in the customs line, whispering or giggling as they moved past. Surprisingly, Fife had considered it like an extended, if scary joy-ride. Perhaps travelling in her backpack or car these past few years had toughened him up to the constant jostling, and though Gytha felt a tinge of annoyance at how much easier he'd had it, she was just happy to be on solid, unmoving ground again. The customs agents barely spoke to her when she finally came up to them, a snotty disheveled mess. Some people were just bad flyers.
Gytha was glad for the reasonably cheap motel room, her wallet was in a rather sad state and she hadn't dared check her bank account since last week. Enough cash for a few days expenses maybe. There was probably still enough money in her account . . Right? She'd settled in to the small cubicle of a shower for nearly an hour now, running piping hot water over herself in an attempt to wash out the smell of vomit. She'd have to change outfits too. Luckily she'd brought a spare set, who knew you'd need so many outfits when traveling? Her mother had passed on the news of the Coliseum event, but she wasn't really sure what that was. A big roman building where people fought. Would she have to fight someone to get in? She drew her lips to a line as she considered. On her best day she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag, but she could certainly run fast. Maybe she'd be the first to get there, and could still this textbook or whatever before anyone else got there? Now that was a bright idea!

Gytha panted as she ran through the streets, her small backpack rocking back and forth, bouncing around with each step as she scrambled through the crowds. How were there so many people here? What on earth did they all do in this place? And the way they spoke, a kind of rhythm to their words felt so, well, foreign. The world really was a big place. But she had to keep her eyes on the prize here, and no matter how delicious this Pasticiotti filled with cream was, she'd never be distracted by - she looked down realizing her mistake, already having been drawn in by the hawkers and vendors. No! She'd never be stopped by such simple trickery! The little shortcake muffin things were barely delicious enough to - She fled with all the will she could muster, bolstered by a fear for her wallet. It was some time before she made it to the coliseum, sweating and puffing. She'd managed to only buy a few more snacks and knick knacks. "Sa~afe."
she wheezed, walking towards what looked to be a gated entrance. This place was big, like, four houses tall big, but wider. She gulped as she thought about how much effort it would take to move all that rock. In her stupor, she idly walked up to the gate before a voice called out to her from the side. Something about not being allowed here? Was that right? Did the Roman Queen live here or something? It was pretty beaten up for a palace. She waved at the man then wandered away nodding, a devious smile across her lips. "Fife, I'll need yer help on this one!"


A loud high pitched scream filled the courtyard as the near cat-sized mouse scrambled up to the man, followed by curses and shouts, shooing it away. It was too quick for the man, quickly running up his leg before leaping off and fleeing, the shocked security guard wiping himself down in a dance of the heebie-jeebies before walking towards where Fife had run off, cautiously peering around for the mouse. Gytha, the little sneak that she was, had used this precious time to jump the gate, landing with a thud and scurrying to cover. She was in. What now? There was a textbook or something in here Florita wanted. As she skulked slowly down the halls she eventually came to a strange set of ruins, covered in moss and framed with grassy paths. Is this where she needed to be? She jumped as something crawled up her leg, realizing only after a moment that it was Fife. She tried not to let on that he'd gotten her back now.