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What? Did you think this wouldn't touch the animal patrons as well?

Looks like human[oid] females aren't the only ones cycling in the bar this month.

There's a large, cougar-like cat roaming between the tables, yowling, screaming and, every now and then, will roll about on the floor the way you've seen housecats do.

It would appear that being around a large number of hormonal women has caused Tasha to come into heat. Or rather, the scent of dozens of women going through their monthly cycles has caused her to come into heat. Or maybe it's empathy that's led her to this state.

Then again it could just be a funny case of coincidence that Ian's lir is in estrus and acting very friendly to everyone, rubbing against them and purring loud enough to pass for a car engine.

Either way, there's a cat who's perhaps the only one enjoying this time of the month - much to Ian's chagrin.

[This post weirds me out in all sorts of ways and that's why I have to write it.

Stupid muses...]

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"Aye they do. There was quite a bit of political unrest ten years ago when a man named Elik tried unsuccessfully to have Carillon's bastard son named the heir of the dead Mujhar and thus be Mujhar in Niall's place."

Oh dear it looks like Ian has forgotten a detail about his brother. How good of John to remind him.

"You have reminded me of something and I regret that I have forgotten about it. Niall is missing his right eye, and as such he wears a patch to cover the wound with."

He scowls.

"Strahan of the Ihlini, he set a hawk on Niall, clearly intending to slay him before he reached me, the plague-wolf and his mad-woman of a cheysula—wife—Gisella.

He failed of course. The gods were on Niall's side."

"...Sounds like it," Sheppard says after a moment. And he thought politics in the Pegasus galaxy could get weird. At least the Genii and the Wraith didn't try to kill people with birds.

Although that does make him wonder just a little about what the turkeys would be capable of...

Oh good the beer arrives.

"I am sorry if none of what I speak about makes any sense. I am trying, though explaining the subtle nuances of Homana and her peoples and cultures is ... difficult even at the best of times.

Especially when there is so much I could talk about."

"It sounds a lot like politics anywhere...except the part with killer hawks. We don't have those where I come from. Usually if someone's trying to take over, they use bullets or nukes."

He nods to the waitrat, taking the beer and opening it. "Thanks."

He follows John's lead and, with a little trouble, manages to wrest the cap off the bottle.

"What are 'bullets' and 'nukes'?" he queries. "Those are your weapons, correct?"

"Bullets are this small-well, usually pretty small-kind of ammo. They're...kinda like arrows without the stick, I guess. Small things you fire at people. And a nuke's a really big kind explosive device-one of the ones that can wipe just about everything out. We came pretty close to getting blown up by one today," he grumbles.

Sheppard unholsters his handgun and holds it up to show Ian. "This is what we fire smaller bullets with-it's a handgun. It can't stop everything, but if you aim right, it can take care of some things."

"So a bullet is the arrowhead of an arrow?" he asks, thinking of how one can fight without arrow shafts and fletching.

"And this thing, does it propell the arrowheads—I mean, the bullets for you?"

Spiffy little gizmo isn't it?

And useful too.

He shrugs. "It's the closest thing I can think. Or maybe a slingshot." Sheppard nods, reholstering the gun. "Yeah, although you have to load it. And if you run out of clips, you're kinda screwed."

He nods. Running out of arrows is something he understands.

But then, after Atvians, Cheysuli are perhaps the most skilled of bowmen.

"How many bullets can it hold?"

It's amazing that Tasha hasn't tried to butt in yet...

"It depends on the gun. Some can only a couple, some can hold lots, because they're made to spray a lot when you fire. But that's for things like machine guns."

A lot of arrowheads, flying in a spray of tiny but deadly knives at a target.

A man could decimate an army with a weapon such as this.

And a man posessing such a weapon could easily become king if he wanted to...

"It makes me grateful we only fight with our bows, knives and lir-shape, though the unblessed would think a Cheysuli warrior in the guise of an animal to be fighting with an unfair advantage..."

"Lir-shape?" he repeats, glancing down at Tasha. "So...you can change into like her?" It seems more polite than saying 'so you're kind of a werewolf?'.

"I cannot become her, no," he says, "but I can become another mountain cat when I put off my human form and take on that of an animal."

He looks from John to Tasha and back.

"The lir is how you know what animal a warrior can become. We take on a shape that mirrors that of our lir companions.

Niall, as I said, has a wolf with him, and when he is in lir-shape he is a white dog-wolf."

"Huh," he says, nodding as he looks at Tasha again, then at Ian. "We don't have that where I come. Sounds like it might come in handy, though."

"Oh but it does. It is perhaps the most useful of all the gifts we are given when we acquire a lir."

His expression is the happiest it's been all night as he thinks about the day he and Tasha met in the forest, more than a decade ago...

He nods, frowning a bit. "I mutated into a bug once, but I don't think it's quite the same. It wasn't really a good thing."

Ian has the grace to smile but not laugh at John's expense.

"No, an insect is perhaps not the best of animal forms one could be given.

In fact it may be one of the least useful animal forms I can think of."

"See, the problem with it is that mostly, I went scaly and tried to attack people. I wasn't exactly myself." He frowns. "It's a long story."

"A man in lir-shape can lose control of himself and become a danger to everyone," he nods.

"It is something I would probably understand, given the tales told of warriors lost to lir-shape."

He nods. "Like I sai,d long story. But we cured it, anyway. We didn't have a whole lot of time to spare, but..." Sheppard shrugs.

"And so now it is only a memory," he adds, filling in the blank.

"An unpleasant one perhaps, but that is better than what could have happened."

He stares at his bottle, which is now empty save for that little bit that always seems to remain no matter how many times you try to swallow it.

"Interesting world you come from. Especially the arrowhead projectors."

He nods. "Yeah. At least I didn't wind up killing anybody." Sheppard galnces towards the door, shrugging a bit. "I think guns're pretty common in a lot of universes. It's the stuff like mutating into bugs or fighting aliens that's weird in my universe."

"That too is a good thing," he agrees, then yawns slightly.

It's getting late and Ian has to usher Tasha up to bed.

"Perhaps it is time for me to rest. I have been given a place to stay while I am here and I had best take this as an opportunity to keep Tasha out of trouble while she remains on heat.

We will meet again, someday."

"I'll keep an eye out," he says. "G'night, and uh...good luck on the heat thing, I guess."

And with that he's off for bed, Tasha obediently following in his wake ~~because we all must sleep some time~~.

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