Cathedral River
This river gets its name from the way the trees arch overhead, creating a green tunnel filled with vines and creepers that further weave between the branches. The banks are covered in moss, since so little light manages to reach the ground, and sounds have a way of echoing, making it difficult to tell their location as the river winds to and fro.

Pranks are a rite of passage for teenage boys, especially Gypsy boys. For Alptraum, they usually go over well enough - it's just when he's roped into one of Hexen's plots that things can blow up in their face. What blew up in this time was a stink bomb, which went off a bit prematurely when the black fox tripped and fell on it before reaching their intended target. This in turn brought them to the river in the hopes of washing off the rotten egg stink.. and some of the rotten eggs themselves.

"Look, de next time ya want to entice stink monsters to yer bed, can ya leave me out of it? Even mah wings stink ... and you know how hard it is to clean those!" Alptraum complains as he sort of waddles towards the river with his wings spread wide so he smells them less. "An I wasn't even the one who fell onnit. Good grief, how old were dey?"

"Jes' a few.. uh.. well, I found 'em buried under a bunch of tarps from winter," Hexen admits, and starts pulling off his clothes as soon as they reach the river. "Dagh.. shoulda brought soap. Bu' moss is good, right?"

"Y' forgot the soap?" Alptraum asks, then facepalms. "It migh help some, but soap woulda been better."

"It's not like it got into anyplace really hard to scrub," the fox notes, and wades out into the river. With gritted teeth and a clearly suppressed grimace, he says, "The w-wa-t-ter's fine a' least."

Alptraum wades out into the river too, to make sure he gets any secondary stink off of himself. "You are a walkin' accident," he complains as he tries to not shiver from the shocking cold of the river.

"Hey, I d-don't get into trouble dat often," Hexen counters while hugging himself. "I'm great to be 'round usually, right?"

"If ya had boobs, you'd be even better!" Alptraum claims and splashes some water at his friend. "Wait, iffin ya didm you'd never leave yer wagon..."

"It takes more'n boobs to hold my attention!" Hexen claims. "Butt's matter. And slinky hips. And.. soft fur. Purring.." he lists off, looking more and more lost in thought.. well, not lost, since Alptraum knows he's thinking specifically of the Radovah girls.

"Hey, yer makin the water warm, down boy!" Alptraum teases, then dunks himself completely to rinse off better.

It's when he comes back up and clears his ears that Alptraum hears someone moving through the underbrush, coming from the same direction he and Hexen did. The 'curtain' of vines and creepers that isolate the river also hide whoever it might be though.

Alptraum immediately sinks down until he's nose-level with the water, and folds his ears flat. Why? So he's harder to see of course. "Ssssh, someone comin'!" he whispers quickly to Hexen.

"Huh, I ain't.. oh, right!" the fox says and hunkers down as well. Of course Alptraum's bright white hair and the stinky clothes on one of the boulders aren't that easy to hide.

Alptraum moves slowly towards the shore, ears down, but cupped slightly forward to listen.

The vines rustle and a figures emerges: a Skreek. She's wearing what might almost be a sack with holes cut for her head and arms, most of the color coming from various stains. Greasy black hair hangs down to hide the left side of her face by a dromodon, but her snout gives away her identity. Scabitha was kicked in the left side of her face by a dromodon as a child, and it's left her muzzle twisted from where it was broken.. then rebroken several times over the years to try and fix it. As a result, she's the most reclusive member of the tribe, almost never venturing outside her parent's wagon - and actually forbidden from leaving whenever camp is set up outside of a town. She's looking down with her exposed eye, watching more for obstacles than what's actually ahead.

Alptraum lifts up a bit. He thought it might be dangerous or something. "Hey, Scab!" Alptraum calls and even waves from the water towards the skreek. "Whatzzup? Where ya going?" he asks; not being one to really think less of anyone in the group just because of some oddity or another.

"Geh!" the girl startles when she realizes someone is already in the water. "Uh.. herro, Tlaum," Scabitha mutters with her odd speech impediment - partly due to having both an overbite and an underbite. "Wathing," she adds, tilting the basket she's carrying to show a reed-bristle brush and a lump of soap.

"Wooo! She's gots soap! Wanna join us!? Stinky over 'ere could really use some soap," Alptraum says and gestures towards Hexen. It's not like the rat is a sexy girl or anything, so it doesn't really occur to him that the skreek is, well, a girl!

"I don't want her scrubbin' me," Hexen whispers to Alptraum, the fox still mostly submerged behind the bat's wings. "I hear she's freaky strong.." There are lots of rumors about Scabitha.. just like there are about Alptraum; it's the price of having secrets.

Scabitha sets her basket down, and notices the boys' clothes. "Need to wath clotheth too?" she asks. At least one rumor may be true: all of the damage to her nose has left her with no sense of smell.

"Yeah, unfortunately becaose he go' two left feet," Alptraum agrees and thumbs towards Hexen.

Alptraum also elbows Hexen. "Bah, don' believe all rumors, eh? She jus' a skreek," he adds quietly to his friend.

The Skreek goes to the boulder, and pulls her sack-dress off over her head. This causes a paradox. While the dress is still covering her head, the rest of her is 16-year-old girl without any physical defects, besides being slightly plump, which just exaggerates certain features.

Alptraum's ears go poit! "Dagh, Hexen, lookit!" he says in a hiss and elbows Hexen several times in a row! "She built better den da Radovahs!"

"Her tail is.. hmm," Hexen sputters. He's definitely leaning forward for a real look.. and then the dress pops off over Scabitha's head. It takes a moment for her hair to fall back into place, giving a glimpse of her ruined left cheek-bone and dead eye, which is almost completely black. Then the girl picks up her basket and starts wading out towards the pair.

"Shoul' warn, de water is cold," Alpraum calls out ... a bit late. "So, how ya been, anyway? No seen ya fer a while."

Hexen cannot turn away now. "Betht I kin be, thuppothe," Scabitha says. "May be leavin' thoon." She doesn't look up still as she approaches, but that could be her normal shyness or.. well, she's trying to get a look through the water.

"Leavin'? Why? T' where?" Alptraum asks as one ear splays sideways. "It not be very safe t' leave de band. Yer family, should stay."

"Dey wirr," Scabitha claims, as she lathers up her palms. "Bu' mum thayth there'th a cathtle t' the wetht. Tho.. gone tly to mally me off to a Eee-gol if one'th there." She then starts to soap up her breasts in front of Alptraum. She pauses after she starts though, and says, "Tholly, thould I do you guyth filtht?"

"Er, uh," Alptraum says as he's a bit distracted from watching the skreek lather her bouncing bosom. He shakes his head and blinks a few times. "Yeah, you kin wash us, as we kin wash you!" he says, thinking he just found a clever way to feel someone up.

"Hord thtirr," Scabitha says, reaching towards Alptraum and trying to soap up his chest. She must be focused, because there's a rope of drool starting to descent from her under-over bite. It just keeps getting longer.. then draws back up slightly before descending again.

"I'll.. get her back!" Hexen volunteers, splashing around to the far side of the Skreek, which is drool-free.

Alptraum is trying not to laugh, he really is. At some point he brings his wing around and uses its upper thumb claw to flick away that bit of drool.

"Geh?" Scabitha startles at the movement.. that being her blind side. "Wath I dlooring?" she asks. There's also a 'swat' sound, as her tail thwacked Hexen across his nose before he able to get his hands on the Skreek. He lets out a rather girly bark.

"Eh, a little. So what is dis 'bout marrying an Igor? Do you want to?" Alptraum asks and tilts his head a bit.

"Mum thayth an Eee-gol can fixth me," Scabitha claims, then pushes up against Alptraum so she can reach around and soap up.. his butt? It's not very effective since it's underwater. It also puts her nose-to-chin with him. "An if'n he can't, may not calle about my fathe anywayth. I nevel met an Eee-gol. Haven't met many peopre at arr."

Alptraum finds himself looking down at the skreek. "Do ya wanna be fixed?" he actually does ask as he ends up wiggling around some while being skreek-groped. "I mean, ya don' look dat bad, really. Better'in half de townsfolk we come across!"

"Can't chew my food w'out thpilling it all over," Scabitha complains, then lets out a mangled squeak and suddenly squeezes Alptraum. "Oops," Hexen says from behind her. "That's.. that's nothin' t'be alarmed about. I be more careful w' it," the fox apologizes and reaches for the soap. "Thought th' river be too col' for that to happen.." he mutters.

Alptraum squeaks himself and presses into the skreek! "Hexen!" the Eeee squawks, "What are you doing back dere?" And what happened with the fox may soon happen with him, given the close ... rubbing.

"Nothin!" Hexen claims, as he washes Scabitha's back. "She's just.. really warm.. uh.." He distractedly moves her back to the sides.. but isn't likely to reach parts that are currently squished against the bat.

"You look like you," Alptraum says and shrugs a little, "Don' bother me none." He then remembers he was supposed to he helping wash her, so he now fumbles a little for the soap ... and starts on her hair, it's the greasiest right now.

At this, Scabitha lets go of Alptraum and actually makes.. girly sounds. "What're you doing up there?" Hexen demands from behind.

"Washin' 'er head," Alptraum retorts as he works. Since he has long hair himself, he knows how annoying it can be. There's a lot of claw-combing to get out knots and tangles while soaping it up.

With her hands free, Scabitha uses them to cover her eyes to keep any soap from getting into them. For some reason it makes her seem like a child, despite all other evidence to the contrary. It also gives Hexen the opening he needs to feel her up.. but he seem to chicken out after no more than a single finger brush.

"Qui' goofin' Hex," Alptraum chides as he starts cupping water with his hands to rinse her hair out. "Help out 'ere. It'll go faster." he claims.

"Whatya want me to do?" Hexen asks. "I ain't got a sister to've practice washin' an all."

"Wha? Y'think it different den washin' herself?" Alptraum asks and rolls his eyes. "Jus wet yer hands and runnem through her hair," he states and moves his away. Of course this is because he sneaks a feel of the skreen's chest and claims, "Ooop, lookin' for de soap!"

"Dat'th arlight," the still hands-over-eyes Skreek notes. "Y'kin wath me there while Hexen lintheth my hair." This gets a growl and a glare over her shoulder from Hexen though, who has managed to get his fingers tangled in the hair. He has typical fox hair, which is more of a tuft atop his head.

Alptraum smiles sort of smugly. This time he does find the soap and does indeed lather her there, and spends a lot of time making sure her nipples are clear. Really clean. Super dooper sparkling clean.

"Heh, feerth tho much better when thomeone erthe doeth that!" Scabitha giggles. Hexen struggles to extract his fingers without yanking on anything. Alptraum has never felt anything quite so soft before either.

Alptraum folds his wings around and tries to use his thumb-claws to help get Hexen untangled. His other hands are still a bit busy ... kneading. "Gotta get all the soap off," he claims.

"I could dunk," Scabitha suggests. Hexen is finally freed, and falls over backwards into the water when the Skreek wiggles her butt.

And so the Skreek dunks. And noses Alptraum while she's down there.. although that could be an accident, since she probably has trouble realizing where the end of her nose is. She comes back up with a bounce and jiggle, and pulls her hair back over to cover her left side. "Tho, whell all you guyth thtinky?" she asks.

The nosing makes Alptraum squeak a bit ... but he recovers and coughs to cover it. He then steps back, tilts his head, and pretends to look studious as he looks over the skreek after she comes up. He also realizes he shouldn't push his luck too much. "Lots cleaner! Looks good!" he pronounces. "An smells better den fluffbutt dere," he adds and gestures to Hexen.

"Floofy tails soak up odor more is all," the floating fox claims. "Neither of you know de burden of having the bestest, fluffiest tail in d' troupe... what ain't stripey."

"I get t' fly," Alptraum laughs, "I take dat any day over a floofy tail!" He then remembers something and quickly checks his chest! He finds what he was looking for buried in wet fur and sighs. Didn't want to lose his necklace, the only tie to, well, wherever he came from.

"Ith that the thtinky bit?" Scabitha asks, leaning for a closer look.. and actually having to turn her head to get her eye close enough. Poor eyesight might explain why she watches where she's stepping instead of where she's going.

"Wha, dis? Nah, it just be ... eh. All I gots to tell me were I really be from is all. Jus some stupid necklace I be left wit," Alptraum says as he holds it slightly between two fingers. "No much on it, jus' some design I don' recognize."

"Ain't you from your mum and pap?" Scabitha asks. While she's leaning over, Hexen's comeback is thwarted by the view he gets from behind. "River.. na' cold enough.." he mutters as he begins to sink.

"Dunno who dey were," Alptraum notes and shrugs a little. "Doncha know, I wuz adopted into de band when I was a baby; found on de road."

"Learry?" Scabitha asks, looking up towards Alptraum's face. "You be lescued and arr? But they rove you, light?"

"Yah, dey treat me fin' Don t'ink about to too much, but sometimes ya wonder, yannow?" Alptraum admits, "Tho, it be likely I prolly just de kid of some country girl who hadda fling wit someone and got me by accident ... so got rid o' me."

"Townieth and farmerth are thtrange," Scabitha says and nods. Then she pulls Alptraum into a hug. "But we all family in de tlibe!" It's a bit odd.. on the one hand Alptraum is being smothered. On the other hand.. death-by-boobs is probably worth having a song written about him.

Alptraum has to, uh, shift his legs a bit so the skreek doesn't get poked. Hexen is right about the water isn't could enough! He returns the hug, though, noting, "So, 'ey, if you do end up gettin married an all, jus make sure it be to someone who like you fer you, eh? Whether or no dey can fix yer face, shouldn't matter. Should just be someone who like you for you."

"Eee-gols plobabry arr lich and handthome doctolth," Scabitha says, once she extracts Alptraum from her cleavage. "Tho.. you want me to wath you guyth, or wath crotheth thinthe you can thmell where you thtink?"

So Scabitha takes Alptraum's hand.. and starts pulling him towards the shallower water near the bank.

Alptraum follows ... and curls his wings about himself to try and stay modest? "Imagine de korv teller nekkid!" he thinks quickly to himself to, well, get things to go away.

Hexen is also following, but staying waist deep. Scabitha stops when she and Alptraum are only kneed deep, and has the basket gripped in her tail. "Open wingth preathe," she instructs, picking up the soap and working up a lather in her furless palms. They make squelchy noises as she does this.

Alptraum, hoping he got things under control, slowly opens his wings and looks up in hope that not seeing a naked skreek will keep things from going awry.

"Dat doethn't rook light," Scabitha comments. "Not rike a callot at all.." And then warm soapy hands are washing Alptraum there.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeee," goes Alptraum and he squirms all about. "Uh, you might not wanna, uh, wash too much there or things might get messy."

"Dat maketh no thenthe," the Skreek claims, and continues to soap things. Squish, squelch, squish! "Ah, gettin' bettel now," she claims.

"Gettin better? What you talkin' about?" Alptraum has to ask ... but is terrified to look down!

"Mole rike a callot now," Scabitha says, and keeps stroking for a bit.. only to stop and reach around to the bat's rear while she's still got lather.

Now Alptraum whines! His first introduction to frustration has just been completed! Normally Mr. Carrot gets, er, petted longer when he's alone, and thinking about some khattas. He tries to fight the frustration by hopping a little from one foot to the other.

"Hord stirr!" Scabitha complains, and presses up against Alptraum to steady him. By now she's working up sides, and ribs. "Laithe almth tho I kin get th' pitth," she says. "Gotta git arr the clevitheth."

Of course this means his carrot ends up in her cleavage a couple of times ... which makes him complain more. He does at least lift his arms and hold still ... because too much more movement is going to make the skreek ... get messy.

This is much worse than the teasing Countess Princess Vampire was. There wasn't touching involved then! "Yeah, stop wigglin'," Hexen calls from deeper water. Having his armpits washed is also a bit tickly.

Alptraum snaps his wings back to try and whack Hexen! His well-made plan seems to have backfired horribly. He's going to walk funny the rest of the night!

As Scabitha polishes his nipples (returning the favor from earlier), she notes, "You need to thit down tho I can wath youl hail."

Alptraum is grateful to be able to sit in the cold water! It'll make things less throbby. So, down he sits and sighs.

And then Scabitha sits in his lap, pulling his face into her chest again while she bunches his hair together to wash it.

Now Alptraum is getting pretty certain the skreek is actively messing with him. His 'carrot' resting in the crease of the skreek's backside cannot be an accident. There goes that bat whimpering again! The only solace he has is that Hexen will have to endure this torture too!

Hexen is whimpering as well from having to watch.. hinting that he may not last until it's his turn. Wether or not Scabitha is tormenting him, or just doesn't know any better doesn't change the situation though. But at least she isn't squirming - that would be proof! "You arlight?" she asks at the whimpering as she lathers up the bat's scalp.

"P'FECTLY FINE!" Alptraum blurts out. He goes back to trying to think about horrible things; like trying to imagine Hexen's mother and 'Father' getting intimate ... or his own parents. Or those ghosts back in that cemetery that almost ate Hexen.

These methods are effective, so long as Alptraum doesn't also think of what keeps pressing against his nose as the Skreek works. Unfortunately.. she notices when the methods start to work. "Need me to fixth you again?" she pauses to ask.

"No no! I'm good!" Alptraum claims quickly! "Not unless you 'et me stick it in you," he thinks soon after that!

"Hord bleathe then," the Skreek warns, just before putting her weight forward to try and dunk Alptraum into the river to rinse off.

It's probably then that Alptraum realizes he missed out on groping the rat's behind! Because she gets off of him then so he can get back up.

But not from doing this ... When Alptraum gets up, he rises up between her legs and plants his nose right, well, into a soft ratty area! Just for a moment; an accident surely!

There's a squeak, followed by, "Do I thtink?" Scabitha then offers Alptraum the soap.

"Maaaaybe a little?" Alptraum claims as he lathers up his hands, then washes here there. Lots of massaging involved, including going a little into the 'crease'.

Scabitha makes a lot of surprised noises, and Hexen grumbles. "Ohhhhh," the Skreek moans. "That ith nithe," she mutters. "I can do it better!" Hexen claims.

Alptraum keeps it up for a bit, then decides he'd better behave before something weird happens. Weird always happens around him. So, he dips his hands in the water and washes off the soap now ... and makes sure to get a little inside too so no soap remains in there, either.

Alptraum smirks at Hexen, then slips to the side. "His turn," Alptraum notes and gestures towards the fox.

"I'm whole.. turnip.." Hexen claims, splashing towards the Skreek now. "See? I don't nee' no help gettin'.. urk."

"Ew, glothth, what wath that?" Scabitha asks in alarm, stepping back from the fox.

Alptraum croons with laughter! "'is carrot popped. That happens t guys if stimulated for a while. It be fine!"

"Nooooo!" Hexen wails and falls his to knees in the river, fists raised to the sky. "I didn't even get to touch 'er knockers!"

"Y'still can, yannow," Alptraum claims. He then looks to Scabitha and asks, "Righ? Have pity onnem?"

"Thule he ithn't thick?" Scabitha asks. She's actually on the bank now, completely out of the water. "Rike when a puthture popth?"

"He no sick, just a weirdo!" Alptraum claims as he sloshes over to Hexen and pats the poor guy on the shoulder.

Hexen just stews where he is. "I cursed to never get an'where with a girl," the fox complains. "I blame you!" he says to Alptraum.

Alptraum puts his hand to his chest. "How is it mah fault?" he asks, looking hurt. "And no, he no allergic. C'mon, or he gonna pout."

Scabitha ventures back into the water with the soap, and asks Alptraum, "You point me to the thtinky paltth?"

Alptraum smiles. He wades behind Hexen and points at his soggy tail. "Dis here, t' start," he claims, then points to his head, "Den here, and den his chest." Notably, he does NOT point below the waist.

So Scabitha kneels down to wash Hexen's chest first, while the fox still mopes. Up until she gets to his head, which she rests against her chest. This gets a few very waterlogged tail wags from him at least.

"I kin watch the bit dat popped iffin you want, Hexen," Alptraum teases his friend. He grins toothily.

"No way!" Hexen mutters, finding his happy place for the moment. Having to sit in Scabitha's lap afterwards while she washes his tail is probably not what he wanted though.

Alptraum heads up to the bank and grabs his clothing to wash while those two are busy! It'll keep the carrot from getting too excited again. He also finds himself feeling a little down, perhaps. He just kinda got to know the skreek a bit, and soon she may be leaving. But, at least it won't be through dying; seen enough of that on the roads already.

The soap works wonders on cloth (although the stains on Scabitha's frock may be permanent already). Hexen eventually feels bold enough to try and pinch Scabitha, who squeaks asks why he did that. At least the girl might have a better future.. well, maybe a normal one. Alptraum's only ever heard of Igors after all.

"Heh, look at us, a buncha cast out losers in de world, eh? Clingin' together to survive," Alptraum mutters to his swinging necklace as he works on everyone's clothing. "Eh, I hope she does git a chance at a safer life an better one. Dagh knows it would be nice iffin one of us had some good luck."

Once the clothes are hung to dry (plenty of vines to use for clotheslines) Hexen is done getting his scrubdown. Of course, a wet fox looks silly, especially without the stink to distract from the flattened fur. At least when it's wet, his tail does resemble his father's more! Scabitha just shakes herself mostly dry, and wrings out her hair before attacking it with her brush. "I thould make you guyth a pie," she says out of the blue.

"Don' hafta, dis was fun, righ Mr. Soggybutt?" Alptraum asks as he walks by Hexen and swats him on the butt. He also whispers t him, "An why couldn' ya been a girl, eh? We both be lest frustrated!"

"Oh.." the Skreek slaps herself on the right side of her head. "We plobably thourd have tlied having thexth!" she says, then picks up her basket with her brush and the last of the soap in it. "I keep forgetting guyth are needed for that! Oh well, next time for thule, light?"

Alptraum facepalms and groans. "Was dat actually an option?!?! De hell!" he thinks in abject frustration! "Avralie, next time," he concedes once he lowers his hands, knowing full well there likely won't be one.

Watching where she plants each foot, Scabitha makes her way back through the vines and towards the camp.

"She didn't really jus' say dat, did she?" Hexen asks, looking stricken. "Dagh, I wish I was a girl now! I'd be gettin' all I ever want then! All the bes'.. guys.. huh.. din't tink dat through.."

"You be gettin' me!" Alptraum claims and holds his hands up if he were wearing suspenders, and grinning for all the world like an idiot.

"Aagh, I dunno.." Hexen says, as he cups imaginary breasts. "How I know you be any good?" he asks with a stupid grin.

Alptraum takes a few steps towards Hexen. "I coul' demonstrate now," the Eeee threatens and raises his hands to make grabby motions.

"Eee!" Hexen squeals like a girl and wraps his tail around himself for 'protection'. Then his expression lights up. "Y'know, all kiddin' aside.. I'm thinkin' o' a new prank! Next town, we both dress up like girls! Whoever can get the mos' guys to flirt with 'em wins! What could go wrong?"

Alptraum considers it, then spits in his hand and holds it out! "Agreed! It be a hoot, what coul' possibly go wrong?" he cackles. "Nothing nearly as bad as dat stink, dats fer sure!"