Chapter VII: The Devoted Husband

The goat chuckled as he pushed on his glasses so they would not fall, "Ja, many years arguing about which culture has the better beers, better sausages and which of us had the better libido."  He shamelessly kissed his old friend so the rangers would know just the kind of relationship they had, "I see you continue to surround yourself with such strapping, young canines, Carlos.  And who is this handsome new addition to your ranks?" He looked over Justin who blushed to have a male twice his age come on to him.

Velasquez chuckled, "This, Will, is the native I've just spoken of."

The goat nodded, "Oh, ja!  Terrible thing, thrown out from your own home, forced to live away from your own family.  I'd be lying if I didn't share the sentiment.  The biggest difference of course is my homeland is clear across the ocean.  But still... Yes... Even as a horny old queer who's never heard the wedding bells myself, nor even laid seed with any wayward drunken nanny, I can sympathize with the devoted husband who only wants to see his family again."

Justin was buzzed from the ale already, but he was at full attention for the goat, "So... You can help me with my problem?"

The goat shook his head, "Sadly, there is not much I can do.  I am only an innkeeper.  I have a hard-enough job trying to please the hundreds of people who come in and out of my shop every day.  I could link you to some elected officials, they may be interested, but not many people here really honestly care about the natives.  If it were up to them, they'd prefer if all you just stayed in your forests."

Justin seemed disappointed, but he understood, "So how do we find these officials?"

Jarlsberg straightened up, "That's easy, my tavern is quite popular with the common folk, enough so that even some of the nobility have come down to drink my ale."  He looked up, "Ah!  And there is one right now!"

Justin turned.

It was that pompous stoat in purple, nose up in the air like he couldn't bear to look at the commoners around him.  He was closely followed by two bodyguards.

Jarlsberg got the attention of the stoat, "Duke Fritz!"

The stoat held up a paw to his guards before turning his short muzzle down so he could look at the innkeeper who just addressed him.  He chewed on a bar of tobacco, then spat into some unlucky bystander's mug when they weren't looking.  He hid the smug grin he had when his victim gagged on the stoat's spittle.  He walked up to the goat, "Innkeeper Jarlsberg, the veritable celebrity of Wiesel Stadt... What a surprise that you should grace my presence with that bushel of pubic hair growing out of your face."  He playfully tickled the taller mammal's scruffy beard.  Despite his prankster attitude, the stoat always found it a joy to speak with the old goat.

Jarlsberg chuckled at his friend's teasing, "It's better the pubic hair than those rat droppings on your face, Fritz." He tugged on the stoat's carefully cultivated mustache.  "But, all pleasantries aside, I need a favor."

Fritz chuckled, "Don't you always, friend?"  He quickly fixed his mustache while his sadly heterosexual guards both rolled their eyes at his flamboyant antics.  "I'm not sure I can pencil in a meeting with you at the moment, but you know I can always squeeze you in somewhere..."

Jarlsberg laughed, "As much as I'd love to, we have more important matters."  He realized he had not asked the blue jay for his name, "Forgive me, but I seem to have forgotten to ask your name."

The jay looked up, "Oh, I'm Justin."

"Justin!" He turned to Fritz, "My young acquaintance here, Justin, is in dire straits.  He's been banished from his village under false pretenses and wishes to find his way back in."

Fritz understood now, "Ah, and as an important official of this district, you know only I can decide immediate actions concerning our native population.  And I assume Mr. Justin comes from the fabled bird village of these very woods."

Justin nodded eagerly, "Yes, sir!"

Fritz smiled, "Well, I believe I could help you... Yes indeed."