To Blunt The Sharpest Claw

Chapter 4 Part 2

They awoke to sunshine once the day had started properly.

After unravelling from blanket and chair, Lydia and Flumpt left his room and hurried through hallway to find something resembling breakfast. They stopped by Oscar's room, but he'd still not returned, so they continued on to the palace's dining rooms.

As they neared it, things became increasingly busy, not least because one corner of the palace had been decimated, which meant several floors of apartments had been relocated, along with a small supermarket, a theatre, two bookshops and a travel agent. The amount of reconstruction that was going on was remarkable and meant that the palace was far more hectic than its normal hectism, despite it always being busy. It reminded Lydia of an immense and glamourous mall, six stories high and thousands of paws long. Despite the carnage it had endured, it retained its atmosphere of vitality, which was entirely unbefitting a recently extinguished sun and continually burning infrastructure. Like the residents of Vierlême, animals of Bisarah revelled in rebuilding and repair as though not only grateful for the opportunity to do so, but thrilled should a second wing collapse beneath even more marauding beast. Indeed, Lydia suspected that if the sun disappeared for any extended time, they'd probably have the sort of celebration that would really hurt its feelings.

The place was noisy.

Hammering and sawing echoed through its halls. When Lydia commented on this, Flumpt reminded her that its acoustics were intentionally excellent so no one had to shout at anyone, and was why their prior row conjured such an audience. Lydia did, however, point out the irony of him having to shout this over the din of hammering and sawing.

They were stopped by an animal selling postcards of the shattered palace for half a hug each. When Lydia asked why anyone would want pictures of such devastation, he explained that because such a thing had ever happened before, it was considered very avant-garde, despite the obvious safety concerns and unfolding insurance nightmare. Moreover, he had several cousins currently involved in its restoration, all of which were thrilled to be part of something so innovative. When Lydia had looked at Flumpt in response to this, the dog merely winked and reminded her of his earlier words of encouragement."Where they fail to understand, Miss Lydia," he added, "they more than make up for in enthusiasm. That is what you must hold onto." The animal with postcards was thrilled then, when Lydia, despite refusing to accept his wares, gave him a hug of such fervour that it bordered on a hostile takeover bid.

They reached the dining halls when breakfast had been underway for some time. Lydia had hoped to see Oscar in their usual one, but he was not. She didn't mind, however, encouraged instead by her encounter, Flumpt's words and a growing familiarity of morning routine. Initially, she'd felt uncomfortable at having bed and board at no cost, feeling to be taking advantage of wonderful charity, until Flumpt and Mironaelk pointed out that her recent heroics meant that animals were more likely to feel that they were taking advantage of hers. Despite this, she'd insisted on helping with the washing up at the very least, until discovering that there was a three-month waiting list to do so. Moreover, her concerns at becoming spoilt and entitled to such generosity were quelled after giving hugs in payment, as it induced a humility, love and gratitude that she'd never experienced before. Indeed, after her second morning, Flumpt and the Returned Poet had to escort her from the premises after she broke down in sobs of unadulterated joy, which only worsened when nearby diners insisted on giving her hugs and what remained of their bacon rashers. From then on, she'd excuse herself to nearby lavatories for a few silent sobs and impressive strings of snot.

The palace's public lavatories were wonderful places that not only gleamed in rose-veined marble, but smelt of flowers and petrichor. In addition, it had gloriously tinny music piped in via inconspicuous speakers. It meant that regardless of how many animals were using the facilities, no concern arose over who might hear what. As a result, the cacophony of flatulence that arose during the dining halls' busiest times were overpowered not only by Muzak, but enthusiastic choruses of sing-alongs emanating from occupied cubicles, some of which met on a regular basis, and at least one of which had enjoyed a short theatre run.