Profile Mantibab-590: Finnegan [Finn]

Fleur had learned long ago that work said much about a person. The flower shop told their story in petals and soil. Quiet mornings sorting new deliveries of bluebells and sage, afternoons tying string around cones of violets, evenings spent in the company of drying herbs and the small bell that rang each time a customer came in for something fragrant to carry home. There was nothing fancy about it, and that was the way they liked it. ...

The midday sun blazed over the port, gleaming off ship hulls and the fins of those who lived half in the water, half on land. Fleur stood near the end of the line, their styled tail drifting lazily in the sea-salt breeze, the faint shimmer of pollen still clinging to their fur from that morning’s work at the flower shop. The air smelled of brine and faintly of fried fish from the food stalls lining the pier. Maestro...

Sometimes the world didn’t wait for you to be ready. It just kicked the door open, threw the sunlight in your face, and expected you to run with it. That was how the morning felt to Finn. From the moment he’d stepped outside, Patalum was alive. Lelokos with tails in bloom drifted into t...