Nothing had gone right with the party's luck lately; at every turn, it seemed misfortune and fate had conspired to thwart every trudging step forward. Any other night at the fancy tavern would've been a cause for celebration and a few rounds of drinks to give the evening's conversation and camaraderie that extra glow of lightened inhibitions. But tonight, the only purpose the music served was to drown out the highlight reel of shame that had been the whole past week of sideways outcomes, with drinks to numb the sting of wounds still tender to the slightest prod.
Thankfully the food was good, as was the music; just captivating enough that for a few hours, you could almost forget your troubles and get lost in it, at least until the drinks took over. Everyone was looking to you, hoping you had a plan, an idea, some flash of dazzling inspiration, but lately you haven't been able to meet anyone's eyes, and the bottom of the ale bottle feels like better company.

Just then, there's a scent that wafts by, something comforting and fresh, like linen drying on the line, or a springtime picnic in a lavender field.

"Pardon me, but I couldn't help but notice you folks are looking like a forest after a fire. Maybe it's something I can lend a paw with?" You glance up to see a remarkably well-dressed and well-fed foxfolk, that you now recognize as the night's entertainment. Lifting his paw he tucks the other behind his back in a bow of greeting, pudgy belly pressing against the top of his fancy jerkin's belt. Maybe you're still buzzed, but something about having this fox speaking to you, right here and now, fills you with a calm reassurance. You could almost swear some of that confident virtuosity that surrounded him like a sky-blue aura was rubbing itself off on you...


Big thanks to  bluehunter for the art!