Juvenalas Penitatas
Chapter 31 – Return to Newfounding

A thunderstorm rolled over Northrock. What had begun as light drizzle blossomed into a torrential downpour by midday, trapping the penitatas of Northrock Correctional Elementary indoors for their break from punitive education. For some this was a turn of fate that filled them with despair at being robbed of beloved outdoor activies; for others, it was an opportunity to grab a table in the library and flex their creative muscles.
“I think we're making the game board much too wide! The defenders are spread out too much!” Talek protested as Ki'reth laid out his vision for their tabletop game.
“No, this is perfect! Look, if you spread out thin you can cover the entire Line in trip zones with five defenders, leaving one to double up where you think it's needed.”
“But that's my point! How is the attacker meant to push through?”
“That's what we're going to figure out today!” Ki'reth span his paper pad around so his friend could read it. “Look, I think we need to let the attacking player actually attack, so I figure a certain number of players can try to shove defenders out of the way. That means if you deploy wide you're inviting these shoves to make an opening. I've also got a few ideas for Flankers, giving them skills that let them skirt the edge of the board with less risk of being shoved out of bounds.”
“Are the defenders going to get skills as well?”
“Sure! Here, I know we don't have dice, but just walk through this game with me a minute. I've got paper tokens we can use.”
As his friend played out an imagined scenario or two of their board game, Talek began to see its growing potential. Since sports day, the Line Game had exploded in popularity amongst the penitatas of Northrock, leading to a variety of home grown means to honour and elevate the sport. Two girls from House Oliphant had started designing team uniforms, much to Mr Kal's approval. Talek and Ki'reth were focusing on a board game.
Isabelle eased herself into a vacant chair while the boys were distracted by their notes. She flashed the pair a smile. “Where are the others? They finished lunch ages ago!”
“Kost and Bubbles are in the music room,” Ki'reth replied.
“Lusu and Rilka?”
Talek paused. Where had they gone? “I think they went to the girl's room?”
Ki'reth let out a snort. “You need to keep a closer eye on Rilka! Lusu's competing for her attention now, in case you'd forgotten!”
The boy poked his tongue out in response to Isabelle's comment, and in accordance with the laws of Northrock the library doors sighed open. Though Talek was quick to retract his tongue he failed to hide the look of shock on his snout. Mercifully, it was Timothy who'd opened the door. The medicalos crossed to the table and leaned in to study their creation. “Looks interesting. Is it playable yet?”
“Almost,” Ki'reth said.
Timothy nodded. He looked up towards Talek and gave a subtle jerk of his head back towards the door. “Mind coming with me for a minute? There's something I'd like to discuss with you.”
“Okay.” Talek tried not to fret, but since Timothy had taken up official duties again it was hard not to think of him as a teacher, and a teacher wanting a private discussion was never a good sign for a penitatas. Timothy led the boy to a study room, a small, quiet space that could just as easily double as a site of punishment if privacy was desired.
Seeing Talek's nerves, Timothy did his best to reassure as he took a seat. “This is nothing for you to fret over. I just wanted to ask if you'd be willing to do a little community service.”
“I already volunteered for cleaning up the beach.”
“I know, but this is not for Northrock. It's for Newfounding. You remember Iven?”
The name made Talek's stomach lurch. That was the boy he'd almost killed, the final straw that had landed him in Northrock. “How could I forget?”
“Well, there has been talk about what can be done to both give the boy a little closure, and educate his peers. How would you feel about taking part in a presentation for your former school?”
The question left Talek squirming in his seat. “You mean you want me to get spanked in front of my old school.”
“There are those who think showing pupils the consequences of your actions will be of benefit, yes.” Timothy steepled his fingers as he watched Talek's expression contort into ever more miserable forms. “What's got you fretting?”
“I don't want those people to see me like this. They were my classmates, my friends. I don't know how to explain this.” He opened his arms and looked down at himself.
Timothy accepted the answer with a nod. “I understand that. One of the advantage of our system's isolation is it partitions your old and new lives completely. Bridging that gap can be hard, but it's a step we all have to take eventually.”
“Who's 'we'? You're not a Penny!”
The barked comment drew a frown from Timothy. “You're right, I'm not. But I used to be. I'd also like to remind you that I am currently here in my capacity as a member of the faculty.”
The hint was taken, as indicated by Talek's swiftly bowed head. “I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to snap at you.”
“Apology accepted,” Miller answered with a smile. “Look, we both know that this decision is ultimately out of your hands, but I wouldn't be asking if we didn't care about your feelings on the matter. Are you really so opposed to this?”
“What if I am?”
“Then you'd be disappointing a lot of people. Your parents included.”
Once more, Talek felt the low blow connect. His arms crossed over his stomach while his gaze sought something other than Timothy's face to look at. “Do I have to do this on my own?”
“You'll be escorted by a parent or teacher from here at all times. We're not planning on sending you alone!”
“That's not what I meant. I wanted Rilka to come with me.”
A knowing grin spread over Timothy's grey snout. “Ah. I don't think we can allow her to accompany you, but I can probably wrangle someone else. Would you like Isabelle to come with us?” The Penny boy nodded in reply. “Splendid! I'm sure I can get her on board. Can I count on your cooperation then, Talek?”
“I guess so. I'm still not thrilled about this.”
“Try not to fret. Who knows, maybe something good will come of this for you? Every cloud, and all that.”

The suspicions Talek held that his participation was already set came true mere days after Timothy's little chat. While Liki took Rilka to school, Shon made Talek ready for an altogether different school run. They stepped out into a grey day and walked at a brisk pace towards the beach, bound for the roped-off landing plot of packed sand and water-warn stone. They had barely passed the windbreak when a hovercar swung in from the north, its repulsion field kicking out a skirt of loose sand grains as it came to rest. When the passenger doors opened it revealed Timothy and Isabelle, both smartly dressed and seemingly eager to be off. Isabelle waved at Talek as the two Karrians approached, and when the boy climbed in she patted the seat beside her.
During the flight, Shon and Timothy both explained what was expected of Talek during his visit back to his old school, and in doing so confirmed all the boy's worst fears. Pain and humiliation were the order of the day, and the boy quickly sought what little escape he could by staring out of the window at the grey skies. Mercifully, his minders turned their own attentions elsewhere, talking amongst themselves or reading the news on personal pads.
Moving ever westward, and banking slightly south, Talek watched as the miles blurred by. The sky brightened, the sun emerging from behind the clouds to rise higher above an ocean that shifted from a cold grey-blue to warmer, brighter hues. When land hove into sight it was sun-baked, vibrant and luscious, bordering on tropical. Then came Newfounding itself, a shining city of white metal and glass, its towers built in rounded, organic shapes and its wider sprawl interspaced with nature via parks and green verges. The hovercar slowed its approach to merge into the complex dance of sky traffic, all dictated by central flight control coordinators that ensured vehicles arrived promptly, yet safely, and via means that minimised disturbance to the locals.
Willow Lane Kindern School came into view as the car banked around its allotted course. It was an egg-shaped building, much taller than the surrounding houses and local shops, but kept apart from them via a ring of playing fields, hard courts, and plantations of its namesake trees. The back third of the school grounds held satellite buildings, mostly pre-fab movable units designed for short-term use. They had been set up twenty years ago according to playground rumour, and showed no signs of leaving any time soon.
It was to one of those temporary buildings the four were directed upon touching down and checking in with reception. A teacher, Mr Galn, provided all four with visitor passes before escorting them back out of the main building and round to the waiting mobile. Galn did not acknowledge Talek directly, but the boy had no doubt he'd been recognised by the man who'd once tried to teach him biochemistry.

The children waiting in the classroom were all between the ages of ten and twenty. Mixed age classes had been the norm during Talek's time there, but he knew the faces well enough to recognise pupils had been pulled from multiple classes to be here. There were also far more of them than would ever be present in an actual class. Since the majority of children on Halkat were rejuves, and conception was regulated, it was uncommon to have more than twelve pupils to a teacher. Among the watching kindern was Iven, now a year older, as well as other familiar faces; Talek caught sight of his former friend, Nik, and immediately dropped his gaze to the floor. Two members of staff, Mr Galn and a woman Talek couldn't put a name to, oversaw the proceedings from the back of the room.
Shon began the proceedings. “Hello, everyone. My name is Mr Dafron, I'm a 'Penny Parent' at the Northrock correctional community. Your former classmate, Talek, is my son there.”
The boy raised his eyes back to the gathered pupils. If they hadn't known who he was before, they all did now. He could see the urge to gossip writ large on their snouts.
“I'm Miss Holdenthorpe, a former penitatas.” Isabelle introduced herself with a smart, professional tone. She clearly expected something, given the puzzled little twitch of her ears she made when the students failed to react.
Last was Timothy. “And I am Mr Miller, also a former penitatas, but also a-”
“As in Captain Greyscale?” one of the younger boys called out. The rudeness raised some eyebrows, but Timothy took it in his stride.
“That's right. I once went by that moniker, before I was set back on the straight and narrow.”
Now the children's focus had shifted far off the intended topic. Claws were raised, but all present knew why. Shon stepped in, putting on his best parental tone to bring things back to order. “I'm sure Mr Miller will be happy to answer your questions after we've finished, if there's time. For now, count yourself lucky this is not a penitatas classroom! We are here to provide you all with insight as to what became of Talek, and educate you as to the life he leads. Yes?”
A girl in the second row lowered her claw. “Sir, a bunch of us have done a Penny placement when we were younger. We know what it's like.”
“Oh do you? Did you see those spankings play out?”
“Well, no. But we're told about them. We see their rooms, how they live, and we're told about the kind of harsh punishments they get.”
Shon accepted the answer with a nod. “Yes, but you were also sheltered from the full reality of things. Today, we want to provide a more full picture. Boy in the front, what's your name?”
“Nik, sir.” Nik was beaming in anticipation of his question. He had dark-green scales and hair so brown it bordered on black. He hadn't been the best influence on Talek. “Is it true Pennies go around town naked?”
Talek caught Shon's smile. It sent a shiver down the boy's spine. “Sometimes. Can I borrow you, Nik? Come up to the front.”
The teenage Karrian paused for a moment before complying. He flashed a glance at Talek, and perhaps read from the anxious expression the penitatas wore that this would not go well for him. Shon continued, “Thank you, Nik. I need a tough lad for this demonstration to work. Would you say you're a tough lad?”
“I guess I am.”
“Great! Now don't worry, this won't do you any harm. I just want you to rub some cream into your claws.” Shon offered up a tube that Talek recognised instantly. The grading was concealed by his father's grip, but it was absolutely fire-cream. Nik offered a claw and a dollop was placed in his palm, which he began to rub in while casting puzzling looks at Shon. “All I want is for you to tell your classmates how it feels.”
“Well it... it tingles and- argh!” The boy's claws curled in pain as the fire-cream activated. “Damn that's hot! Ow!”
“Stings, doesn't it?”
Nik began to scrape at himself, desperately seeking to be rid of the burn. Shon reacted swiftly. The fire-cream was discarded and a hefty helping of nano-lotion was slapped into the boy's palm. “Don't scratch yourself! Work the lotion in now, that's it. Get it into all the folds and cracks Better? Alright. Why not tell the class what that felt like?”
The teen turned his claws over and back, studying them for signs of damage. His nails had left reddened lines across his soft scales, but no real harm had been done. “It felt like my claws were plunged in boiling water!”
“Talek, why don't you tell your friend about the tool we just demonstrated?”
The request sent phantom pains through Talek's crotch as he briefly relived the agony of his past experiences. “That was what we call fire-cream. There are scales of punitive nano-creams used on penitatas, ranging from stuff that makes you itch like crazy to the ones that burn like Nik said. That one's not even the worst we can get.”
This revelation drew raised eyebrows, not least of all from Nik. He had their full attention now. “It's not just smeared on our claws either. It could be put on a toothbrush and scrubbed into your mouth, or... or rubbed on your genitals.” He saw that mental image filter through the class as boys and girls took Nik's brief encounter and built upon it. There were uncomfortable rasps of breath and subtle shifting of posture as the kindern imagined what it would feel like to have their genitals 'boiled' by the cream. Since it was expected of him, Talek put the nail in the coffin. “We usually don't get nano-cream to switch it off when it's applied, so it burns for at least half an hour. Some of them can last longer, but if a parent or teacher feels you've not learned your lesson they can always add more.”
“To return to our friend Nik's comments...” Shon's idle words set off an internal panic for Talek, whose imagination began to draw up every humiliating revalation that might follow. “What you may not be aware of is just how much control we have over the lives of our penitatas. We decide who our children are friends with, and should your heart – or hormones – draw you to somone, we have ultimate say if any sort of relationship is permitted. Even something as innocent as a kiss on the cheek, or holding hands with your crush could earn you a thorough spanking if we have decided we don't like your choice of company. I'm sure Talek can give you other examples of how restricted his life has been since becoming a penitatas.”
A hot blush of shame formed on the boy's snout. He had no desire at all to bring up his sexual activities in front of the class, so he instead fished for something slightly less degrading. “If you've seen a Penny bedroom then you know there's no privacy at all. We can be watched in our bedrooms, our bathrooms, everywhere. You can get punished for something as basic as getting out of bed without permission, or even going to the toilet without permission. Things are extra tough early on. I was told I should sit on the toilet when peeing, and the time I didn't I was given a harsh spanking for it! If a Penny does anything at all they're not instructed to do, or explicitly told they're allowed to do, it can end badly.”
While Talek spoke, Shon turned his attention elsewhere. In the corner of his eye he saw the dreadful shape of a school cane rising from a black transit bag. “I imagine some of you, perhaps most of you have seen this before – a typical school cane. If you've ever been on the receiving end of this, please raise your hand.”
A smirking Timothy complied. To further encourage the children, Shon also raised his claw. Talek felt it only right to do the same, by which time most of the class had likewise complied. “Thank you. As I'm sure you've come to realise by now, there's a world of difference between the canings you might receive here and what penitatas like Talek endure.”
Shon put the cane away and drew another, a longer, thicker rod that caused eyebrows to raise. “This is more in line with what a boy of Talek's age would expect to face. Talek? Would you mind assisting in a demonstration?”
The boy did his best to appear stoic, having known well in advance this was coming. A padded stool was dragged into place by Isabelle, who helped brace it. This also meant she was in Talek's eye line as he lowered his pants and underwear, then lay over the stool. She flashed him a supporting smile and mouthed “It'll be okay.” At least he was positioned so his backside did not face directly towards the children.
Shon let the rod whoosh through the air with a lazy swing. “As you can see, there is no privacy or modesty involved in a penitatas punishment. If Talek were to misbehave in class he would be brought up front in a position much like this to face immediate correction. Such a punishment would not necessarily be focused on his backside either; the thighs and base of the tail are also ripe targets for punishment. But today, you're going to see a 'typical' punishment.”
Talek felt his father's claw grip his tail, holding it up and away. He took a deep breath and steadied himself for the coming stroke, which was heralded by a swooping, wooshing sound that ended in a sharp crack and a fierce jolt of pain. The stroke had landed with expert precision, scoring a fiery line right across the seat of his backside. His eyes clenched tight shut, his teeth clenched tight to try and hold back the sob. He felt Isabelle's paws close over his own as the second cane-stroke bit his rear, drawing a sharp gasp of pain from his maw. He figured there was little to gain by holding back, and let the third swing be met with a yelp. Four was too much – he began to sob, unable to keep it in any longer.
“A lesson all penitatas learn-” The sharp THWAK of the rod broke Shon's explanation “-is that trying to be stoic achieves-” another CRACK of wood on rear paused his lecture “-nothing in the long run.” A third swing provided a full stop.
The rod did its work with no further narration, rising an falling, painting lines across the soft, green scales of Talek's exposed rear, turning them shades of red with each successive smack. He dared to twist his head enough to see the closest pupils, many of whom squirmed in sympathy with his ordeal. This was a punishment far beyond anything they would have faced – Talek knew first-hand that many saw a 'caning' as just one or two quick swats on their claw, or perhaps four on the seat of their pants. Each time the cane fell on his well-spanked rear he could the kindern collectively, silently asking themselves “surely that's all?” Much to Talek's misfortune, the answer as often “no”.
Shon kept up the caning beyond what a typical spanking would have entailed, just to make sure the lesson stuck. Once finished, he set the rod back into its back before helping Talek to his feet. He held his son close, turning him so his punished rear faced the class. Now he was stood up and allowed to lower his tail, he at least had a sliver of modesty, albeit barely. “That may have seemed harsh to you, but if this were an actual punishment it would still not be over. Normally, Talek would now be sent to stand in the corner and think about his misfortune, or perhaps made to sit on a hard, or even a pointed stool to really drive the punishment home. In a school situation, a punishment like this would likely be met with a follow-up spanking upon returning home.”
While Shon tended to his son, Timothy stepped in. “Punishments like this are not only commonplace for a penitatas, they are unavoidable. No matter how well behaved a penitatas is, even if they follow every rule to the letter, the Department of Corrections will mandate regular punishments. Most penitatas face one or two mandatory spankings each week, but the worst offenders might face as many as two or three per day. These will always be in addition to any punishment earned for bad behaviour.”
The lesson continued, though Talek tuned out of much of what was said. Timothy painted a vivid picture of special days and how normally happy days like birthdays or New Years became something to dread, but Talek wasn't called upon to expand on this, either by word or demonstration. His father's claw cradled the back of his head, his tears soaked into Shon's shirt, and the caning lines burned away in the classroom's cool air, dulling slowly into what promised to be a lingering ache. Once the latest stretch of lecturing ended, Shon finally gave him permission to pull his pants back up. It was then time for questions.
One such query came from Nik. The teenage boy looked pale and startled as he was invited to speak. “How... how much trouble does someone have to get into to become a penitatas?”
“In terms of compounding actions? Multiple infractions, with a clear refusal to learn from your mistakes.” Shon answered, keeping his tone and expression serious. “A common mistake made by young offenders is they mistake patience and politeness for weakness. The police don't want you to end up with us if it can be avoided, and so they attempt other approaches; from verbal warnings to court-mandated monitoring. Out here, the system presumes your innocence and assumes the best from you. In our world, the opposite is true: a penitatas is guilty until proven innocent, and often we don't bother looking for that proof. Wearing the letters means you are presumed to be in the wrong, presumed untrustworthy, and presumed deserving of punishment. If anyone here is the sort to break the rules and scorn authority, you should remember that such behaviour isn't being ignored – it's all on record, and the more you break the rules the more likely it is someone is going to decide you're no longer worthy of second chances.”
Nik's solemn nod of acceptance showed more respect than Talek had ever seen the teen offer to anyone or anything.
Mr Galn finished proceedings. “Thank you all so much for offering your time and expertise. Children, if any of you have questions you'd rather not ask now you can submit them to me and I will forward them to Mr Dafron, who I'm sure will be happy to answer. That's all!”
Rhe children were escorted out of the classroom by Mr Galn, bar one. With the unknown woman at his side, Iven remained. She flashed the eleven year old a quick smile and asked, “is there anything else you want to ask, or say?”
Iven shook his head. The boy had been quiet throughout the presentation, appearing uncomfortable all the way along. With his silence, Talek felt compelled to fill the void.
“Iven, I'm sorry for what happened to you. For what I did to you. The person I was then, the things I did... I was lost, angry, and I wanted attention. I wanted people to think I was special. But I wasn't. I was just a stupid punk who did what he wanted and didn't care who got hurt. I wish I'd never dragged you along the way I did.”
Shuffling on the spot, Iven's focus drifted sideways, his eyes moving to Isabelle first, then Timothy, all without ever meeting Talek's sorrowful stare. “I did think you were cool. Now I know you're just a loser.”
The insult, childish as it was, hit with the intended sting. A father's claw pressed firmly on Talek's shoulder, warning of the dire consequences an improper reaction would bring. The Penny boy settled for looking contrite. Meanwhile, Iven continued to study the other rejuves in the room. “Are you Talek's friends?”
“Yes, we are,” Isabelled replied. Timothy nodded in agreement.
“If you were a Penny, how come you have 'M's on your claws?” Iven pressed the former Captain Greyscale.
Timothy held up his claw so the letters were more clearly seen. “I earned my parole a long time ago. A lifetime ago, in fact. Once I returned to society I decided I wanted to help reform other penitatas, like Talek, and so I became a teacher at the Northrock Correctional Elementary School.”
“Did you really do all the things in the stories?”
The question bled away some of Timothy's composure. With a more anxious tone he replied, “I've not seen or heard all the tales about me. Some are invented. Too many are true.”
The kindern's inquisitions turned next to Isabelle. His eyes lingered on her letters. “What did you do?”
“I was convicted of a whole host of financial crimes; insider trading, market manipulation, bribery, coercion... name a white collar crime and I did it.”
“Iven?” Timothy stepped forward to address the boy's shyness. “Tell us what you're feeling. Even if it doesn't make sense, letting it out will help you. I promise.”
The boy folded his arms across his chest. “I'm glad Talek's suffering. But... I know I shouldn't be.”
A warm, sympathetic look formed on Timothy's face, in which Talek saw the Mr Hachi he'd known since beginning school. “That's a good way to feel, Iven. You were hurt, you were wronged, and you deserve to know that wrong is made right. The fact you feel sympathy for Talek shows you're a good, kind lad.”
At last, Iven lifted his head and finally made eye contact with Talek. “It really sucks where you are, huh?”
“It does. I don't know how I would have coped without my friends.” There was a crackle on the edge of his voice. Hearing it, Isabelle reached for his claw and gave it a supporting squeeze.
Seeing this, Iven asked, “is she your girlfriend?”
Both rejuves startled at the question. Talek's cheeks turned red, while Isabelle raised a paw to hide her smirk. “We're good friends, Iven,” she said. “Very good friends. The kind who help each other through hard times.”
“If there's one thing a penitatas has no shortage of, it's hard times!” Timothy laughed.
Iven turned his gaze to his caregiver. “I think I'm good now.” He then returned his focus to Talek. “I guess I'm... supposed to... tell you to be good. Or something.”
“I am sorry for what I did, Iven. I mean that.”
“I know. Bye, Talek.”

With the humiliation over, and the pain subsiding, the question of what came next was addressed by Shon as the four returned to their waiting hovercar. “I thought we could take a detour on the way home, do a little sightseeing, perhaps? Talek, how would you like to take a stroll through the market?”
“Is that allowed?” the boy asked. It was a genuine question, seeing as he'd never heard of penitatas being allowed to mingle with regular folk.”
His father grinned. “Just keep your claws in your pockets and you'll be fine.”
Timothy chimed in, “You and Isabelle can enjoy the market. I'm going to fly solo, assuming there are no objections? I can make my own way home.”
“No, that's fine. Although, I am curious what you're up to.”
The grey-scaled boy smirked at the question. “I just want to get away from Northrock for a time. A little dose of the real world now and then is healthy, don't you agree?”
Isabelle took the opportunity to squeeze Talek's thigh. “Fine with us! Means I get him all to myself!” The others laughed, while Talek merely grinned and tried to ignore the tingling in his groin the contact caused.
It was fitting, after the morning's presentation, that Shon brought them back to the Grand Market. Hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat as his father advised, Talek had the pleasure of following Isabelle as she flittered back and forth, wrapped up in childish excitement at all there was to see. It was only then Talek realised this might be the first time she'd been outside of Northrock in a century. “Talek! Comics!”
Beaming, the boy followed her thrusting finger to a promising stall, its racks lined with all manner of colourful paperback and hardback publications. The girl's attention was drawn instantly to a chibi style cover of a fluffy cat with a comical 'ray gun' weapon in its paw. “Space Kittens vs The Yarnball Empire – Oh, this looks good! Can I have a quick look?” With the shopkeeper's nod of approval, she hastily flicked through the first few pages. “Oh yeah, I need this! Mr Dafron?”
“I've got you covered,” Shon chuckled. “Talek, do you want anything?”
The boy's eyes skimmed over familiar and unfamiliar covers. The comic scene hadn't changed much in a year, he'd just never really kept up with it. As it happened, Shon saw a promising book just before Talek did. “What about this one?”
His father held the book out for study: Dungeons of Doomdark: Legends of the Legendary Guild. The way Talek's eyes lit up was answer enough. “These two, please. Actually, throw in those other three Space Kitten comics – she'll have read the first one before we get home!”
The trio resumed their exploration of the market, admiring stalls and shops along the way, pausing to browse occasionally. Their only other purchase was a selection of pies, sliced meats, and cheese with which to make a late lunch. Isabelle's tail wagged every step of the way. “I know it's silly, but it feels nice to just be here, part of the crowd. I'll be honest, when Timothy first asked me to come along with you all I was afraid, terrified really, of how people might react. The whole way over I felt certain people would be staring at me, whispering about me, crossing the street to avoid me. Guess I'm not such an infamous criminal after all.”
In response to her comments, Talek gave the market another glance about. He hadn't seen anyone act unusual towards them so far, and that had not changed. “Maybe Captain Greyscale took all the attention off you.”
She sighed. “Yeah. I hope he's okay.”
“I'm sure he's fine. To tell you the truth, I don't have great memories of this place either. I think the last time I was here was the day I earned my letters. One day, I'm going to have to go round and apologise to a lot of store owners.”
“Your apology is living in Northrock,” Shon injected himself into their conversation. “We don't expect you to have to personally make amends. When the sentence is over, it's over. All forgiven, all made right.” Isabelle punctuated the comments by linking her left arm through Talek's right and stuffing her claw into her own jacket pocket, a gesture that made Talek's heart flutter.
After a full circuit of the market, Shon announced it was time to go home. Isabelle was first into the passenger cabin, turning to offer a helpful paw towards Talek, which he accepted. As he heaved in, Isabelle planted a quick peck of a kiss upon his cheek. “That's for today.”
Blushing, the boy cradled the spot her lips had graced as he settled into his seat. “What did I do to earn that?”
“Being a good sport, doing your part for the community, convincing me to face the real world again. Take your pick.” Her grin warmed Talek's chest like the rays of summer sunshine, made all the more wonderful when her paw came to rest upon his thigh.
“Hands above the waistline, children!” Shon's warning was delivered in a playful tone, but it was heeded nonetheless. When their new comics were offered as reading material for the flight, Isabelle shuffled closer and the pair sat with arms linked once more, smiling at the pleasant contact they shared.