Part 6

In the days that followed his discovery of Viktor's opinion on Polcians living in Velika, Erik made a conscious, determined effort to cut all contact with him. Largely, he remained successful; their only subsequent encounters being the occasional, muted passing of one another while in the warehouse.

If Erik had claimed never to have mourned the loss of his friend, he'd have been lying. The memory of Viktor's unabashed, guiltless smile as he made those sizeist comments however ensured such feelings remained fleeting.

To top it off, Anika's continual hostility, relentless in the face of his efforts to be kind and cordial, ensured he could never feel fully at ease in her presence. Resigned to having frosty relations at best with the angsty teenager, Erik refocused his attention over the next two weeks on making his other guests as comfortable as possible.

First, he relaid the makeshift staircase he'd created; organising the numerous books and boxes to make each small step that much smoother. After that, Erik even rebuilt the beds he'd set up for them; dipping into his precious savings to buy actual, Polcian-sized frames on which to set the padding.

Regardless, no matter how much time and money he spent, he knew it'd be tough to make his guests feel completely at home here. Not with people like Viktor barely masking their contemptible opinions, nor while Anika treated him in a way that suggested she viewed all Velikans as no different to his former friend.

In spite of the building negativity, not once did it dissuade Erik from following his mother's suggestion of organising something special for Thijs' birthday. After all, what better way could he help provide their guests with a sense of joyous normality than by dining out to mark the occasion?

That very same negativity would see Erik fret himself into inaction, desperate to find the venue that'd extend the warmest welcome towards a family of Polcians. No matter how much research he put into it, no matter how hard he tried to allay his fears, Erik remained indecisive all the way up to the weekend prior to Thijs' birthday. He needed advice. He needed help from someone that'd been in his position before.

Erik flopped back onto his bed, phone clasped to his ear as it began to ring. The gentle patter of rain upon the window remained constant, as it had done for most of the evening so far.

He reached to grab his television remote from the side table, switching off some random comedy show he'd long since lost interest in.

Glancing beyond the table, Erik peered into his guests' housing in the corner. It remained empty, with Pieter and his family assumedly still downstairs in the lounge. He appreciated the solitude, and the allowance it gave him to speak openly during the conversation to come.

A faint rustling followed the ringing, before an unmistakably gruff yet gentle voice answered, “Hello, Erik! How are you?"

“Hi, Alex." His smile spread quickly. “I'm okay, thank you. Just moving along through the days." Slumping back, his head found his pillow. “How about you? Is Bolstrovo treating you well?"

“Yes, very well!" The wolf's own bright grin could be heard easily on the line. “It has taken a few months, half a year almost, but finally it feels like we are settling here. It is beginning to feel like home."

“That's great to hear, Alex. Things aren't feeling so strange any more?"

“For certain, even if some things are still so very different to back home. It is a happy thing, but still, it is hard to get used to the number of 'Maleni' that live here."

“Maleni?"

“Oh... sorry. That is what Polcian-sized people are called here."

“I never knew that," Erik replied, stroking his chin for a moment. “There's a lot of Pol… Maleni living where you are?"

“Yes!" Alexei responded, practically shouting with enthusiasm. “Padinica is a small town, but there are still so many walkways and homes and other things here for them. They can live just like us 'Visoka'." He let out a short yet sincere bout of laughter. “So much easier to have a word, instead of having to say 'Polcian-sized' or Velikan-sized' person. It is almost like another world here."

“Wow," Erik chuckled back, smile faltering ever so. “It sounds… really great there."

Alexei sighed, audibly toning his happiness down. “It has been a long while since we last spoke. I am thinking what, a month?"

Erik thought back, remembering the call they shared a matter of days before the night he and Pieter crossed paths. “It's been about that, yes."

“I hope you have been okay there."

“Yes, mostly. I've just been tied up with... a lot of things here. Sorry for not calling."

“No problem, Erik. I know the feeling. I would have called myself, but it has all been so very busy getting the shop up and running."

“I can imagine."

“I have only just finished for today. I am so very glad that it is Sunday tomorrow; my paws are aching."

Erik glanced at his alarm clock, its hands pointing the time out as just after seven. “That's a late finish."

“Definitely," Alexei groaned, his shifting in his seat noticeable at the other end of the phone, “but it will be worth it in the end."

“I'm sure. Just don't overdo it in your old age."

A long, exaggerated snarl forced Erik to shift the phone from his ear, moving it back just in time to hear the reply. “Even when I am in a different country I must put up with your so called jokes, but still I wait for one that is actually funny."

“Yeah, yeah." He snickered and grunted, delighted to be sharing a lighthearted chat with his friend once more. “How's Nate? Is he finding life with Velikans-- I mean… Visoka okay?"

“He is doing well! Very well." The joy in Alexei's voice shone through. “It took him some time to settle, but I am thinking he is now finding the mix of people here to be so very exciting."

“That's great--"

“He is downstairs, in the office, finishing up with some work. Shall I call him up here to talk?"

“Oh… no, that's okay. I don't want to trouble him if he's still working." Erik rubbed at his muzzle. “Actually… I had a reason for calling, other than to catch up."

“You did?"

“Yeah… I was hoping to get some advice from you."

“Okay, I can help you with that, for sure." Alexei's tone grew more serious, though it never lost its signature cheer. “What is it you wish to speak about?"

“It's an unusual one, but since you've had experience of a kind, I wanted to know your thoughts on the best place to take a Polcian family out for a birthday celebration."

“You are right, it is a little unusual." A curious grunt echoed in Erik's ear, prompting him to sit upright. “I do not know why you sound so… tense about it. You sound as if I should mind?"

“No… that's not what I was thinking." He started tugging at his shirt's collar. “I guess… it's just because I'm nervous about the idea. I want to be sure that I choose well and take them to a place that's… right."

“I see." Alexei paused, leading Erik to yank harder. “This is a feeling I can understand."

“I figured a restaurant of some kind would be a good plan… Something nice, but affordable." He grumbled under his breath, looking back over to the shelter full of newly-improved bedding and its adjoining wash area. “I hate to sound cheap… but I'm not exactly well off, especially after these last few weeks."

A distant shuffling upon wood caught Erik's ear, pulling his attention away from the conversation. The scrabbling, scratching sound intensified, followed by a flash of movement at the base of his bedroom door.

Thijs, even more excitable than usual, dashed noisily across the floorboards. His squeaking panting grew louder as he nearer, helping Erik regain his gleaming smile.

“Hey, Erik!" the youngster cried, waving an arm frantically.

He waved back, sliding to the side of the bed to meet his approach.

“I think a restaurant is a good idea. I cannot think of much better myself," Alexei stated, half-winning Erik back. “For you to be asking this, it sounds like you have made a Polcian friend?" The hint of surprise pulled Erik's smile even wider. “I am pleased to hear this."

“I'm pleased, too." He lowered a paw to the floor, waiting for Thijs to throw himself into it.

“How did you meet?"

Erik rolled away from the edge of the bed, bringing his arm back up as he went. “We… bumped into each other after work." He settled Thijs down next to him, giving the curious little ferret a playful poke to the stomach. “I've got to know him and his family from then on, which is why I'm asking about... what I am."

“Whatcha ya talkin' about?" Thijs whispered, squeezing his arms around Erik's fingertip.

He responded with another nudge, one strong enough to press the youngster down to the bed beneath his paw.

“Hey!"

“That is great," Alexei spoke softly. “I am happy to hear this, after…" He drifted off into silence, leaving Erik to idly roll Thijs around as he nibbled and gnawed at his fingers. “Yes, a restaurant. For you to find what you wish, I am thinking that most places in the city centre would be fine. The busier, touristy parts are the best, as this is where most Polcians go when outside of their district. They will get much less attention when they sit with you in the Velikan section of a restaurant."

“The tourist area? You mean right down by the river? I'm not made of money!"

“Then do not go to an expensive one," Alexei scoffed. “There are plenty of affordable places that are still nice."

“You know any in particular?"

“Not really… but I know they exist."

“You're sure?"

“Look them up if you are having doubts. Yes, it has been almost a year since I left, but I am thinking the city will not have changed that much."

“You might be surprised," Erik snorted. “You know, I'm still waiting for a visit from you."

“I know," Alexei rumbled, despondency creeping into his voice. “I wish to come back soon to see everyone. Likewise, I hope to have a visit from you."

“I would love to, Alex, you know that. If money wasn't so tight, I would have been over there already."

“Again, likewise."

“I'll be there soon," Erik stated, turning to peer out of window. “You know... I'd still like to move there one day... to work with you again when you have the new shop up and running.

“I would like this, also. I could really use your help in the workshop." Alexei whined gently, barely detectable but definitely there. “When we are settled, when the shop is up and running and I can afford to offer work, you know you will be the person I ask."

The rowhouses opposite sat lifeless under the cover of nighttime, streetlights illuminating the rain pouring steadily from broken sections of guttering. “It sounds horrible to say it… but with things how they are here right now, I think about moving more and more every day."

“Yes… I have seen the news." Alexei whined again, much clearer on the line this time. “The closer it gets to the election, the more unrest there seems to be. Only the gods know what will happen if… they get into power. It frightens me to know that such a thing is no longer a fantasy."

Erik grumbled desperately, ready to delve deep into discussion until he noticed the tickling on his paw had stopped. He peered down to his waist, finding Thijs frowning back at him with even greater curiosity.

“I understood like… two of those words, Erik. Ya sound sad, though. Whatcha talkin' about?"

His mouth opened to respond, but the words he sought weren't forthcoming. Instead, Erik gave a shake of the head, waving his free paw dismissively.

“C'mon, tell me."

He playfully prodded, pushed and pulled at Thijs, right up until the concern lifted from his little masked face and the nibbling resumed.

“So…" Erik returned his attention to the phone. “Are you sure about not having a place in town you can recommend?"

“Do not worry," Alexei chuckled. “Even in the time since I have left, I promise that the city centre will be fine, safe.

“Well… okay."

“Listen, I understand your fear. I had the same worries as you when Nate was visiting. Trust me when I say that I know that taking your friend to the busy, touristy area is not something you need to fear." He finally took a breath, collecting himself before adding, “I hope that you have fun. In fact, I am certain that you will!"

“Thanks, Alex," Erik replied cheerfully, somewhat staggered by the passion of Alexei's affirmation. “I'll take a look for something downtown. Something good."

“Good, and you are welcome." A crackle on the line made Erik's ear flick. The repetitive thumping of footsteps came after, stopping right before Alexei stated, “I am going to have to say goodbye now. Our dinner has arrived."

“Take out?"

“Our Saturday treat after six days solid of work."

“Sounds like you deserve it." Erik sat up, taking care not to knock Thijs over by clasping him delicately in his paw. “Enjoy your food, Alex. Take care, and I'll make sure to call you again soon."

“You take care of yourself, also." The doorbell sounded in the background, hastening Alexei's speech. “Speak soon! Bye, Erik!"

With a click and two beeps, their call ended. Erik set his phone down atop the side table, between his alarm clock and television remote.

“Who was that?" Thijs yipped, his head cocked in typically investigative fashion.

“A friend of mine. He used to live nearby, a few streets away actually."

“But not no more?"

“No."

“Why?"

Erik resisted an exasperated groan. “When his shop… closed, he decided to move to a town in Bolstrovo and open another there."

“Cool!" Thijs squealed. “I know that place. When we came from Meerland, we flew there first. Had to gedda boat from there to here after that."

“Yeah," he mumbled back, mind still dwelling on the phone call. “That happens a lot... Can't fly here direct from Polcia."

“You wanna move there?" The nibbling at his fingers resumed again, stopping briefly to allow Thijs to add, “To go and be wid' ya friend?"

“One day, when the time is right… but that could be a while."

“Why's that?"

“Money… other things."

“Think ya'd like Bolstrovo more than here?"

Erik finally glanced down to his paw, fighting back the rising urge to ask when the questions would end. The wide-eyed innocence with which Thijs gazed back, oblivious to his irritation, helped to keep that urge in check. “Maybe… I think so." Erik pulled his arm back, wrapping it and the other around himself. “It'd mean I could work for my friend again, like I used to. I could do the job I want to do, instead of working for bad money at a boring job here. I could have a decent social life again, in a place that's much more inclusive... or at least sounds like it. All I do know is that while this is where I'm from, there's nothing here for me now… Apart from my mother." He forced a short smile to Thijs. “Of course, there's also you and your family while you're here."

“You sound like Dad before we moved. He always used ta say things'd be better here. He said he'd get a much, much cooler job, and that we'd be happier than in Meerland."

Those words stalked the air, capturing Erik's thoughts and turning them onto all the other Polcians that had journeyed here. All they wanted was to come and, for whatever reason, improve their lot in life. In a way, in his search for a fresh start in Bolstrovo, he was just like them.

He glanced back at Thijs, finding him studying the wooden leopard statue still standing down on the floor. His slender tail wagged idly, brushing Erik's paw until the ticklish sensation forced it away. “So… are you?"

“Huh?"

“Are you… or were you happy here… before you lost your home?"

“Guess so." The youngster turned tos him with glazed eyes, taking a moment before continuing. “Think my dad enjoyed it more, though."

Erik wanted to ask what he'd meant by that, but found himself cut short.

“Hey, can ya let me down please?" The spark quickly returned to both Thijs' voice. “Wanna go ask s'more about my birthday."

“Alright." Cupping his paws, he waited for his excitable little passenger to bounce into them before shifting to the edge of the bed. “Obviously, you're looking forward to it a lot."

“I am! Can't wait," Thijs shouted back, skipping out onto the bedroom floor he'd been lowered close enough. “Just sucks I gotta go school, too!"

“Don't be unhappy. The evening will be a nice treat to look forward to after."

“Hope so." He started his dash towards the door, making it halfway before glancing back over his shoulder." Gonna see what Mom and Dad have planned. See ya later!"

“See you." Erik watched Thijs bound the rest of the way across the floorboards, right up until his long, swishing tail disappeared outside behind him.

He thought about that for a second, wondering whether Pieter and Karin would have something particular in mind for their son's birthday. After all, he hadn't really spoken to them about it, other than to say he'd like to take them all out somewhere.

'I could talk to them about it… but I'd like it to be a surprise for them, too. For all of the family.'

Erik tore himself from his musing, reaching under his bed to retrieve the old, well-used laptop he kept stowed there. “I guess now's the time for me to make our plans."

A mild breeze floated between the narrow-set, dusk-soaked stone buildings of Kremensk's city centre, marking Monday as Spring's first meaningful assault against Winter's reign.

Erik welcomed it with both arms, not missing the usual frosty chill in the air as he and his mother exited the subway station.

“What time is the reservation, Erik?"

“Seven-thirty. Plenty of time to make it there."

“Okay, good. I have heard the restaurants here are fast to give away tables."

“It'll be fine." Erik peered down to the blue transporter box hanging from his paw, holding it steady while negotiating the busy pavement. “Hey, Piet. Are you all okay in there?"

“We are," came the muffled reply. “It's comfortable and bigger than it looks from outside."

“So an improvement from my backpack?"

“Definitely."

“There's actual seats in here!" Thijs cried. “It don't smell funny, neither."

“Oh…" Erik snickered to himself, stopping at the end of the pavement to wait for the crossing to turn green. “That's good to hear."

“Thank you for arranging this for us, Tanya," Karin called from inside, barely detectable above the rumble of passing traffic. “It was very thoughtful of you."

“You are welcome," Erik's mother answered. “There are no Polcians working at my job in this moment, so my manager did not mind letting me borrow."

He felt himself drifting as the coloured blurs of traffic rushed by, reflecting on his nervous excitement for the evening ahead. Things were going well so far, though plenty of time remained for that to change. Still, judging by the nature of their conversing, everyone else appeared to be sharing in his enthusiasm. All but Anika perhaps; off in her own silent world as ever.

The crossing finally turned to green, beckoning people to flood into the now motionless roadway and pull Erik along with them.

He gripped the transporter's handle tighter, soon hitting the wave of bodies coming at them from the opposite side with a twitch of his muzzle. Doubt began its slow creep into his head, chipping away at his fragile confidence. He wondered whether he'd be able to keep his arm steady in the crowd. He debated whether the colourful container in his grasp might attract unwanted attention in the busy city. He worried whether this whole evening's plan was such a great one after all.

Erik gritted his teeth and pressed on, forcing those other pedestrians to filter around him. Not once did they bump or knock into him, nor did they pay the blue box hanging from his paw any noticeable interest.

In just a few steps, he made it to the other side of the street, smiling gently at the knowledge that those first two fears appeared to be misplaced. Hopefully, gods willing, the same would hold true for the third and most critical one.

“Almost there," Erik stated, turning onto a square located just off the main strip. “It's right up ahead."

A towering forest of historic structures surrounded them, attracting the sizeable number of sightseers still swarming after sunset.

Velikans were not alone in this hive of activity. Below them, hugging the foundations of the noble structures lining the pavement, an expansive series of ankle-high walkways carried Polcians around the square and beyond. A few of them even burrowed underground, allowing those of a smaller stature to cross roads and travel under protective cover through busier areas.

They strolled up to one of the oldest-looking buildings in the area, illuminated at the far end of the historic square. With it's tall, golden dome-topped roof and numerous stained glass windows, the 'Temple Restaurant' appeared far fancier than Erik had envisaged when searching online.

“Is this it?" Pieter murmured from inside the transporter.

“According to the sign above the door," he replied, tracking a smartly-dressed otter couple entering the arched entrance. “It is."

“Wow."

“You have chosen very well," his mother stated keenly. “Such a nice place."

“Thanks." They entered the small court between the street and the restaurant proper, leaving Erik to hope such an upscale establishment could be as affordable as the guide he'd consulted suggested.

“Hello, good evening!" A young rabbit bounded energetically from inside the restaurant's dining area, her happy voice echoing around the stone walls and waist-tall mahogany panelling of the former temple's foyer. “Will it be a table for two?"

Erik moved to answer, but was stilled before he could draw breath.

“Sorry," the hostess squeaked, effortlessly switching her tongue to Polcian upon spotting the transporter in his paw. “How many will be dining with you this evening?"

“No problem, and there are six of us. I have a reservation. Erik Lukin."

“Okay, let me find you." Her long ears lopped about as she padded back to the greeting station just inside the internal entrance. She took a few seconds to search the reservation book, ending it with a slight frown. “I must apologise again… Your table isn't ready. It has been a very busy service so far, and the last diners have only just left."

“That is no problem, dear," Erik's mother stated calmly, reacting to the hostess' obvious anxiety.

“Please, give me five minutes and I will seat you." She breathed a clear sigh of relief, turning to gesture inside. “If you would like to follow me to the waiting lounge?"

That lounge consisted of the same mahogany and stone wall combination, lining a small enclave that housed a trio of comfortable-looking couches. A stylish coffee table sat at its centre, covered with a variety of magazines and newspapers. Warm, ambient lighting washed over it all, making the area only more inviting.

Erik sank back into one of the couch's large cushions, setting the container holding Pieter and his family upon the table ahead. His mother joined him, studying the main dining area just about visible from their position. A constant chatter filled the air, loud enough to suggest the hostess had been earnest in her talk of a busy night.

“Still okay in there?" Erik leaned forward, leaving his muzzle just beside the blue box.

“We're fine," Pieter called back. “We can wait a few more minutes, no problem."

“Alright… but let me know if you wish to get out for some space or something."

He moved back, guilty at the thought of them stashed away in there, hidden from the world. Of course, they'd been carried around in a similar fashion several times before, but now, on an outing like this, he felt a little cruel for it.

“Would you care for a drink while you wait?"

The soft voice of their hostess eased Erik from his internalising. “No, thanks."

She nodded and turned to his mother. “Madam?"

“I am fine, thank you."

Answer received, she rounded the coffee table, leaning down to bring herself level with one of the transporter's windows. “Hello?"

“Hello," Pieter responded, sounding unfazed by her proximity.

“Would any of you care for a drink before we seat you?" The hostess kept a fair distance, waiting until she received a reply a few moments later.

“We're all okay. Thank you."

“You're welcome." She stood back up, glancing across to Erik while starting away from the table. “It should be just a few more minutes now. I will be back."

Erik rested against the generous padding behind him, sounding his relief with a deep sigh. Everything had gone flawlessly so far. If everything to come unfolded in the same fashion, he'd be unable to ask for more.

He started to scan the waiting area, allowing himself to get lost amid the gentle bustle of the restaurant. It didn't take long for his focus to fall upon the coffee table, along with the generous selection of reading material on offer atop it. The glossy magazines failed to pique his interest, catering more towards those with a fascination of the latest celebrity news. Scattered among them, the newspapers proved to be a measure more appealing; the headline of one broadsheet standing out in particular: 'City of Sokolka Calls For Change'.

Erik slowly sat forward, finding a sub-heading that read 'President Tatrenko Jeered During Latest Stage of Pre-Election Tour'.

He reached to grab the paper from the pile, keen to delve deeper into the story.

“Your table was ready quicker than expected."

He jolted to a stop, shocked by their hostess' sudden return.

“Please, if you would like to follow me?"

Classically-styled sconces fixed between each of the tall, patterned windows cast a rich, amber glow upon dining area. A surprisingly large collection of tables sat organised below the arched ceiling of the old building's former nave. Even so, the restaurant retained a good degree of spaciousness, allowing for an army of waiters and hosts to serve the several dozen customers there that evening. As they followed their long-eared hostess, Erik found himself looking around for any sign of a scaled-down section set aside for Polcian customers and staff. The search proved fruitless, with any separate area that might have existed lost beyond the expansive sea of diners.

They stopped at a small, square table for two, sat beneath one of the colourful windows in the white-painted, righthand wall. A neatly-groomed fox stood in wait beside it, his polite smile tinged with nerves.

“This is Anton," their hostess announced, sliding both chairs back from the table. “He will be your waiter this evening."

“Hello," he muffled. “Ah, and welcome."

“It is his first day. Please, be gentle with him."

Carefully setting the transporter upon the table, Erik cast another gaze around the packed dining hall. No-one here paid them particular regard, not noticing, or simply not caring about Pieter and his family joining them at the heart of the 'normal' dining area. In fact, to his happy surprise, the staff here had the foresight to put on a miniature set of table and chairs for their smaller guests.

“Oh, please, allow me." Their waiter scurried over to the transporter, opening its door to allow the family of four to emerge and take their seats at the centre of the table.

Despite the relaxed, friendly atmosphere, Erik couldn't stop feeling a little edgy as he removed his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. Not from any ill-feeling or hostility towards them as he'd originally feared, but over the amount of seemingly special service they'd earned instead. Erik wondered whether the courtesy afforded by the staff came as standard for a busy, city-centre restaurant like this, or rather because waiting on a party of Polcians came as such a novel experience for them. It's not as if he'd frequented many establishments like this in the past to know for sure.

Taking his seat, Erik pondered over what might happen if the staff, particularly this nervous new starter, got a little too keen with their service. Could Pieter and his family be made to feel as uncomfortable as him? He didn't want that. Sure, he hoped this night would be something special, but not so far as to make his guests feel they'd been put on display.

Another look around the restaurant helped Erik to start putting himself more at ease. It became clear that the well-presented, well-numbered army of waiting staff performed no less attentively in their service of tables catering only to Velikans.

“I will leave you in Anton's capable hands," their hostess announced. “I wish you an enjoyable meal, and a good evening."

Erik quickly leaned down towards Pieter, preparing to whisper in his ear. “Is this all okay?"

“Absolutely," he answered boldly, neither he nor his family harbouring any obvious reservations. “It's really nice here."

“It is." Finally, Erik settle back in his seat, relaxed as their waiter prepared to start service.

Not to be outdone by their colleagues out front, the food served up by the kitchen staff proved to be just as pleasant. Their fish was moist and well-seasoned, the sauce suitably spicy and the various side dishes both numerous and generous in their portioning. Coupled with the fact that the price list wouldn't have looked too far out of place in a more run-of-the-mill establishment, Erik could be forgiven for feeling pleased with himself over his selection of venue.

Not that anyone at the table had time to dwell much on that, not with Thijs only too keen to remind everyone just why they'd come here in the first place.

“Whacha get me, whacha get me!?"

“Thijs," his mother snapped, failing to hide her amusement. “Finish your food, then you can start opening presents."

“Have!"

“I still see some vegetables on your plate."

“Naw."

“What are those, then?" She gestured over to the small heap of Polcian-portioned greens stacked on his otherwise empty, coin-sized plate.

“Don't count."

“They do if you want to open your presents."

“Fine," he huffed, shovelling the last of his meal into his mouth. “Frrshed!"

“Gross," Anika groaned, sliding her own leftovers around with a look of contempt.

“Don't talk with your mouth full," Pieter grumbled.

Thijs gave a big gulp, glaring at his father with a satisfied smirk. “Finished!"

“He is just so very much like Erik at his age," Tanya snickered, beaming warmly down towards the family of Polcians at their tiny table. “Never could I make him eat vegetables easily, even when he was teenager."

“Ma," Erik grumbled. “That's not true."

“It is so."

“Don't argue with your mother, Erik," Pieter called mockingly. “Eat your vegetables."

“I have," he rumbled back with a scoffed chuckle, presenting his spotless plate.

With their attention elsewhere, Thijs used all of his stealth to begin opening the presents gathered beside their little table. His parents didn't argue, allowing him free reign instead to rip through the wrapping paper of the various treats and trinkets he'd received.

Erik watched on all the while, dwelling on how his mother had compared them both. Aversion to vegetables aside, he, too, could see the similarities. The wide, excited grin, the metronome-like wag of his tail and the closeness of his family all around him; it was as if he'd been transported back ten years to observe his past self. To observe how things used to be for him and his own family long before the cracks began to appear in the foundations of their happy home.

Erik longed for the past, mourned for the closeness of family. Despite that sorrow buried deep within, he could still sense his heart warming and his smile spreading. Joined by his newest friends, seeing his mother the happiest she'd been in as long as he could remember, Thijs' unbridled, unreserved joy slowly but surely spread to him. If Erik closed his eyes, it wouldn't have taken much for him to truly traverse the decade separating them. He'd remember just how happy, safe and complete he'd been in the presence of his mother, his father and his brother.

“Erik?" It took Thijs' prodding of Erik's paw to stir him, those bright eyes gazing expectantly from behind his dark mask of fur. “The last present's from you and ya Mom."

“Oh." He shifted in his seat, bringing himself back completely to the busy restaurant. “Sorry. Go ahead."

The youngster skipped across the bright white tablecloth to his seat, grabbing his sole remaining gift.

“I hope you enjoy," said Erik's mother. “In fact, we are both certain that you will."

“Definitely," he added, watching Thijs tear into the wrapping to reveal a small cardboard box.

“Huh?" Thijs delved deep into the packaging, sniffing keenly as his little muzzle became lost inside.

“Here in Velika, it's tradition to give our friends something that belongs to us on their birthday. People believe it shows our feelings better for those we care about… Sadly, what I wanted to give was… probably a little too big for you."

“Hey…" He pulled his nose out from the box with Erik and Tanya's gift in his paws: an unpainted, shrunken-down version of the movable toy statue he'd become so attached to. “...Cool!"

“We wanted so very much to get you a ferret-shaped model," Tanya stated, clasping her paws, “I am sorry to say, we could not find one."

“Hopefully another feline version is okay," Erik muffled, muzzle twitching.

“I love it!" Thijs rushed across the tablecloth, giving Tanya's spotted white paw a firm hug.

“I am so glad," she answered cheerfully, freeing a finger to stroke through the ruffled brown fur atop his head. “Happy birthday, Thijs."

He spun on his heels and sprinted the length of the table; no mean feat for someone of his size. “Thank you so much, Erik!" Thijs cried, leaping for and squeezing at Erik's own paw.

“You're welcome." He lowered his head in response, sensing his cheeks beginning to warm. “Happy birthday."

The youngster wasted no time in grabbing the opportunity, literally, locking his arms around the tip of his muzzle and hugging tight.

Erik's heart began to swell, the discomfort he felt upon their arrival here a distant memory. “It seems that in this case, tradition is incorrect."

“Will there be anything else?"

“No, thank you," Erik answered, glancing up at their waiter. “Just the bill, please."

“Certainly." The young fox shifted to walk off, but not before asking, “I hope you have all had a good evening?" A chorus of approval rang out, helping him step away from the table with far more confidence than at first introductions. “Very good. One moment."

The wait came as the perfect opportunity for Erik to bask in the knowledge that, despite all his worries, the evening had unfolded as a complete success.

He looked down at Pieter and Karin, deep in conversation with his mother over work, past events and whatever else they might have moved onto since he himself lost interest. Their bright voices and even brighter expressions only confirmed that they'd enjoyed the outing.

Thijs offered back an infectious grin as Erik turned to him, still playing with his new toy statue with just as much enthusiasm as when he received it.

Finally, he focused on Anika, still broody as ever in the seat beside her brother. As much as he'd gotten used to it in these last few weeks, Erik gained no pleasure from seeing her like this.

“Did you enjoy your meal, Anika?" She flashed him a glare, but didn't answer. “I hope you did at least." Erik searched the restaurant aimlessly, noticing how much it quieter it had become in the two hours since they'd arrived. “I tried to find a place that I thought everyone would enjoy."

“Anika," Thijs grumbled. “He's only bein' nice."

Muzzle twisting with frustration, Erik slumped back in his chair. After everything he'd done for her and her family, and after such a pleasant evening, the fact that she still insisted on acting as if he were some kind of monster frustrated him no end. Erik wanted badly to lean forward, look her in the eye and ask outright if the angst-riddled teen simply hated him for his size. Not wishing to cause a scene, he resisted, calming his voice enough to begin speaking once more.

“I would have hoped in this past month… that you might have opened up a little… perhaps even trusted me."

Anika remained stoic, glaring back with lips sealed. Both her parents and Erik's mother ended their own conversation, drawn to the standoff slowly developing.

“Don't worry, Erik," Thijs chuckled nonchalantly, batting at his toy statue to make its arm spin. “She's always moody."

“Shut up, Thijs!" Anika roared, snapping her head around towards him. “Idiot."

“Anika!" their mother snarled, keeping her voice low. “Please don't speak to your brother like that."

Peace descended upon the table, though it wouldn't last long. Anika stared back at Erik, her frown unwavering. “You know… I do appreciate you taking us in. I've not missed the whole being treated as a second class citizen thing we've had to handle since arriving here. Things like riding in special trains all the time and having to live in special areas of the city. I've definitely not missed the looks some Velikans give us, the kind that tell us how they think they're better than the pests running around."

“Not everyone--"

“Do you know what I've especially not missed?" She pushed herself out of her seat with enough force to almost knock it over. “The Velikans that have started more and more to call things out at us while we're alone in the city. The ones that tell us to go back home, the ones that shout things we cannot understand, but do it so angrily and aggressively that we don't have to. So… for that, yes, I guess I should be thankful!"

Erik swallowed hard, moving his paws from the table as Anika marched towards them with that same, incessant scowl. “We're not all like that…" He forced himself to a stop, unable to help notice a few of the diners close to them beginning to turn their way.

“Even if that's true, it's the ones that dislike and target us we remember." Anika clearly didn't hold that same self-consciousness. “Yes, sure, in places like this, there are the Velikans that don't mind us, or at least pretend, but these are not the problem. The ones that are are the ones we meet in other areas of the city. They sneer down at you, make their comments and act as if you're... a piece of dirt, or worse. All for doing nothing more than being in the same place as them as you make your way home or to school or anywhere else."

She scoffed out a laugh, probably the first ever in Erik's presence. Her eyes narrowed into intense slits that began stabbing at her father. “Lots of people like to speak of how Polcians and Velikans live together now, how we all are so happy and get along so well, but they can't see how separate we really are. So, I'm sorry if you're offended by my attitude… I just want to go back home. To my real home."

Erik simply sat there, stunned silent and feeling far smaller than Anika in the aftermath. With only the muted clatter of cutlery and crockery audible, he didn't need to look to know all eyes had turned towards their table. Humiliation took hold and clamped down tight, keeping up the pressure until long after they'd left the restaurant and made their way home.

“How's Thijs?" Erik fidgeted to get comfortable, laptop resting upon his stomach while he reclined atop his bed. “I didn't really speak with him before he went to sleep."

“He's fine, pretty much," Pieter whispered, looking across the dimly-lit room from his seat on the edge of the laptop's keyboard. “I think he enjoyed the presents so much that almost nothing could have happened to ruin his day."

“Honestly?" Erik followed his lead, peering into their sleeping quarters. There, Thijs slept soundly along with his mother and sister, seemingly none the worse for wear from the evening's events.

“Yes, honestly." He turned back to meet eyes with Pieter. “You know, he played with his toy statue the whole way home."

Erik gave a hearty, close-lipped grin, one that faltered as he prepared his follow up question. “What about Anika?"

Pieter's answer didn't come so readily this time, waiting the time it took for him to stand and start rubbing his neck. “She's much the same as when we left the restaurant."

“Right." He fought hard not to let his muzzle dip. “I'm sorry… I hope it was still an enjoyable evening for everyone."

“Don't beat yourself up, Erik. This is far from the first time something like this has happened."

“How do you mean?"

“I mean both Thijs and Anika have acted up in the past. They're kids, it comes with the territory."

“I doubt either of them have silenced an entire restaurant talking about the problems between Polcians and Velikans before." Erik smirked, cocking his head slightly. “Am I right?"

“I… would say not." Pieter shrugged, managing a trace of a smile in return. “But my point still stands. What Anika said to you, we have spoken to her before about. We know she's not happy here… Struggling here… It's a big reason why we need to head back to Meerland." He gestured to the room as whole with both paws. “Among others."

“I can understand that." Erik placed his paws on the keyboard, their conversation going full circle and returning to the reason he'd powered up his computer. “Let's see how far you are from being able to do it."

After a little browsing, Erik logged into Pieter's online banking account, courtesy of an impromptu game of hopscotch from the latter in order to input the password.

“Fun, Piet?"

“Tiring," he grunted back, setting himself back down beside the keyboard. “I prefer computers my size."

“At least you didn't make an error."

Pieter huffed breathlessly. “If I did... I'd just tell you the password... and be done with it."

Erik grinned, scrolling to find Pieter's current bank balance. He peeked down from the screen, watching those tiny, rounded ferret ears dip in response.

“Sixteen hundred Krona."

“So… not good?"

“We need almost double that."

“Then you're past halfway there."

“Yes," Pieter groaned, maintaining his low voice in respect of those sleeping nearby, “but in the weeks, months we have been saving… I really wanted to be closer by now."

“You know if you stopped paying us rent, I wouldn't mind. Nor would my mother."

“That's not an option." Wearing an exasperated frown, he turned his back to the screen with a groan of disgust. “If I wasn't paid such a crappy wage… If we weren't... Oh, damn it all."

“Come on, it's okay."

“Is it?"

“Sure it is… Okay, things could be better, but you know you can stay here as long as you need to. It's not as if you're going to be kicked back onto the street."

“I'm thankful for that, Erik. We all are." Pieter massaged his brow, looking to his family once more. “We really do appreciate you and your mother taking us in, offering us a warm home, cooked meals and all the other help you've given…"

“But?"

“It feels like we can't function here… I think it's long overdue that we went back to where we belong." He gave a sigh of resignation, taking a moment before adding, “Perhaps Anika's reaction today is a sign of that."

Erik smiled solemnly, understanding the sentiment even if it hurt him. “I see."

“I'm sure you wouldn't be totally upset. I'm sure you and your mother would be happy to move around the house without needing to take care of your steps, and I'm sure you wouldn't mind not having to help us around the city, to work, school and everything else."

His mood sank ever lower, right up until Pieter hopped down onto his midriff. He slammed the screen of his laptop shut, tossing it down to rest at the end of his bed. “I hate that you feel this way… that you feel like you can't belong here."

“It's not your fault."

“I know, but still… So many problems have come about because of this stupid, growing divide… so many things that just don't have to be this way. Why can't people--"

“Erik, listen," Pieter commanded, throwing his paws to his hips as he glared upwards. “You can't fix the world, and you can't keep blaming and getting down on yourself over everything that's wrong with it."

“I… guess," he muffled, shocked by the scolding response.

“All you can do is make things as good as they can be for yourself, your mother, and the people that know you." Pieter's stern expression eased into one of warmth. “I'd say you've definitely done that for us. Sure, you might not be able to fix things so that we feel as if we belong… but you've helped us enough that we feel safe here, and that's something you should be happy about."

Erik couldn't find the words to respond outright, but his growing grin displayed the delight inspired inside him.

“Yes, exactly like that." Pieter gestured down to the floor with a subtle sway of his head, prompting Erik to shift over and help him down from the bed. “You've done more to show us all that there are good, kind Velikans here than anyone else could have. Anika included, I'm sure."

“Thanks… I'm glad."

“You're welcome." Pieter flashed a smile back up at him. “I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight."

“Night."

Erik lowered his head to the softness of his pillow, allowing it to support the weight resting upon his shoulders. For the first time in recent memory, he felt almost settled, contented, all from those simple few words that Pieter offered at consolation. If this same feeling could stretch into and continue over the next day and beyond, he'd be able to ask for nothing more.