Warmth permeated Yelz' scales as the piercing cry of the damnable electronic alarm clock ripped her from sweet dreams of the matriarch's steaming hot cinnamon rolls glazed with just the perfect layer of icing. Like a freshly frozen pond ready for the skates of happy couples in winter. Blinking blearily, and wishing she could return to the wonderful dream to get at least a single bite of the nostalgic treat, the kobold rose with an unsatisfied grumble to glare at the peeking sunlight streaming in though the curtains. Yelz wished for nothing more than to dive back under the covers and chase the heat that was slowly seeping from her body. Yet, as in most things, responsibility demanded that she cast aside comfort for duty.

  "Hnng-bluh… uuugghhh…" Such was the kobold's declaration to the waking world, making audible her displeasure. The bed was entirely too large and empty, regardless of how heavenly soft it was. There was so much room for other kobolds to twist and twine together, sharing heat and snoring or squeaking. Silence had been the enemy last night, the pervasive ring of creeping quiet convincing her tired body to stay awake just that little bit longer. Sleep, it seemed, would be yet another hurdle in this adventure. That would be tomorrow Yelz' problem. For now, brushed fangs, a quick breakfast, a quicker shower, and a jaunt out into the wet but sunny morning for the meeting with Patricia was in order. Afterwards would be the first true battle, her initiation into solo living!

  Wage life…

  It was a thought that nibbled at her mind as she showered before skittering over to the apartment office for the quick fifteen minute with the kindly old land lady who had taken the time to stay up and ensure she'd arrived safely last night.

  "I wish I had something to give her. Like a casserole! Humans like casseroles, right? They have cheese, who doesn't like cheese? I'll make her a casserole later! Yes, this is how to be a good neighbor."

  ***

  Only by the grace of the First Scale and the human's God did Yelz shuddering sedan rumble to life after receiving her welcome packet and pool key from the kind elderly Patricia. Mercy was on the menu for the universe at large however, as the similarly rickety Acura shuddered with the turn of its key instead of simply sputtered, as if it knew its owner's next destination was her place of employment.

  Yelz couldn't be more prepared. Scale oil applied after the meeting made her gleam like a runway star, a no-nonsense gray skirt and blouse along with sandals made specifically for formal settings, and a dash of lavender paint around her blue eyes, finished the ensemble. The rest of her clothes still sat in a box in the trunk, but these? A smile crossed her muzzle, surely she'd make a great first impression wearing her absolute snazziest outfit?

  That being said, as Wild Gregs slowly climbed into view, Yelz couldn't help but feel the stab of trepidation and anxiety dig at the back of her head. Standing two stories tall and situated closer to the seedier parts of Alysia's outskirts, Wild Gregs was the picture of a rough and tumble dive. Framed by the rising skyscrapers she knew so well in the distance and the distant forest that hugged her own apartment complex, the imposing fortress of hedonism and alcohol was ringed by motorcycles, cans, convertibles, and overly loud cliques of drunkards. A loud staccato thump hammered into the kobold's chest from beyond the false wood walls and she found herself gazing up at the flickering neon sign proudly displaying a man with ripped jeans and no shirt pouring beer down his chest while a scantily clad woman hung on his shoulder.

  Andrew had been the first to warn her, if vaguely, but it was Patricia who had really put things into perspective. Don't go on the floor, let security escort you, and keep that cute little muzzle down young lady! It didn't exactly inspire confidence, and it wasn't as if Yelz hadn't read up on the atmosphere of the establishment, but now that she was here… It was like looking down the gullet of a beast, one that was hungry for the sacrifice of money and time and flesh.

  Already eyes were turning her way as she exited her sputtering car, practically climbing down to the asphalt before gently pressing the door shut with a tail, lest the damn thing fall off. A couple whistles and catcalls came her way before the tension of the crowd hit the unprepared kobold. A good people, these were not; compressed tight like a spring and ready to pop at a moment's notice to unleash all the built-up anger and frustration that was normally leashed down by things like law enforcement and reputation. Here, however, they were free from the confines of their lives and at liberty to act as animals.

  "Wild indeed," Yelz muttered as she hurried to the muscle-bound man with charcoal skin standing at the entrance. A line of patrons flowed one by one passed his partner, a similar muscle of meat who checked ID's and pat down every pocket, occasionally sending the odd man or woman away who had conveniently forgotten a pocketknife or concealed carry pistol in the depths of their clothing.

  Instinct guided her paw to the man's shirt, his box of a head turning down look at the tiny kobold with… well, Yelz couldn't quite place that gaze… somewhere between pity and disappointment.

  "Um, I'm Yelz Tinker, new hire? Here for uh… the data-"

  "Hey Terrance, that a new dancer?"

  "Shut the fuck up, Aaron!" Terrance, apparently, bellowed at a man halfway down the line who threw a single finger salute back at the hulking security guard. Before Yelz knew what was happening, a massive hand landed on her back to guide her through the heavy wooden doors and into chaos. Lights and smoke and noise assailed the reptile like a tidal wave, her eyes squinting and fangs baring at nothing as her tail curled between her legs. Throngs of people slammed into each other, uncaring of discomfort or decency, as they roiled on the dance floor like an ocean in the clutches of a tempest. Said floor was slapped right in the middle of the building, taking center stage for lack of a better term, with the rest of the establishment built around it. In fact, Yelz could easily recognize expansion projects when she saw one. Wild Greg's used to be much smaller, she guessed. To the left of the entrance sat a massive bar currently being invaded by dancers, drunkards, partiers, lowlifes, and the all-around ill repute. Wall to wall, it was easily the largest bar she'd ever seen, with at least eight bartenders that she could count frantically filling out orders and mixing drinks while struggling to remain entertaining for their tips. Darkness blanketed the opposite side of Greg's like a quilt, obscuring the booths and doors leading deeper into the seedy bar and to who knew what.

  Sprinkled about were tiny, raised stages where women of all shape, size, and even species danced. Half were clad in revealing outfits more string than cloth, money stuffed in places it truly shouldn't be and hands groping areas they had no business being. Yet the women, gryphons… she even saw a dragon in the far distance by the main stage and- Yelz felt her breath hitch… kobolds… not many, perhaps three… their scales were covered in glitter and their eyes ringed with glowing paint as money and squeezing hands traveled over every curve from below while they gyrated to the music. One man attempted to pull one of the human dancers down into the crowed, only for security to be on him in a second. The rest just continued to dance, but their eyes told Yelz everything she needed to know. Every dancer was somewhere else, their minds wandering away from the… the task at hand. She had to snap her eyes away when a man pulled one of the gryphon's tail into his mouth…

  Patricia's words rang in her ears like klaxon as she hurried up the stairs, her breath short. Keep your head down, turn your heart off, stay with security…

  "Name's Terrance," A deep, baritone voice drifted down from above, flowing from the massive man's mouth like smoke. "Gotta get you into the back. Ignore anyone trying to mess with you out here, they know the rules. Anyone does though, you run straight to us."

  "G-Got it. Is this place r-really… dangerous?"

  "Not really. It can get turned up a bit, but… eh just be smart."

  All Yelz could do was nod, struggling to remember where the black clad security staff were as she passed, yet all the sights and sounds and, worst of all, smells were whirling into a cavalcade of nausea that threatened to make the kobold lose her meagre breakfast of an oatmeal bar. Or the burning fresh memory of her fellow kobold crouching so a man could squeeze her tail. Eventually, the duo came to a rising set of stairs, one Yelz had to scramble to rise in order to keep up with the much larger man.

  "Where are we going?" She had to yell to be heard over the din.

  "Offices are on the second floor. Also, word of advice, dress down next time. You'll draw less attention."

  "Right…" Thankfully the jaunt to the upper floor's back offices was shorter than expected, but still longer than she'd hoped, the cacophony dying to be replaced by the dull thrum of bass and muffled screams of the crowd. Yelz hadn't even noticed her ears felt nearly spot welded to her head, yet any attempt to dislodge them was met with failure. Music was a mainstay back in the warren. Not a single corner of the apartment complex was devoid of gentle notes or bopping beats. In sharp contrast though… this sound was angry, like a coiled snake ready to strike at the first warm body that got too close. Music was supposed to soothe the soul or move the paws! Not be some wretched and twisting and writhing thing that gnashed at the ears and tore at the chest.

  Derick led the trembling lizard beyond several workspaces to an imposing door simply labeled 'Head Office', more of that acrid smoke drifting from under the threshold. Yelz flinched as the large man beat on the aged wood, the handle rattling in its frame like a mouse trying to escape a trap.

  "Boss, new hire."

  "Send her in. On time, nice… finally someone who can read a damn clock." Had she not known any better Yelz would have expected Greg's office to have been on fire with all the smoke that billowed free when Derick opened the door. The massive man waved a similarly meaty hand before his nose, trying in vain to carve a pocket of oxygen in the hot box of nicotine that was currently staining the walls. Greg himself was a picture of the exact opposite of his security staff; a tall lanky man with wiry muscles and an unkempt button up half untucked. The scraggle of hair atop his head was greasy with sweat and the bags beneath the man's eyes could store luggage. Pale skin seemed to stretch over bones that nearly protruded from flesh, as if the proprietor of Wild Greg's hadn't eaten in a month. Pinched between his thin lips was a cigarette that was more ash than tobacco, the tray on his desk filled with crinkled butts that were spilling out onto the tarnished and stained wood. "Yelz Tinker, sit. Terrance, back to the front. Berret is going to kill the next stupid motherfucker with a fake ID."

  Terrance didn't even say goodbye, offering only a dismissive wave at his boss before leaving Yelz alone with the wiry looking human…

  "A-Afternoon sir, shiny new data specialist! Ready to work!" Yelz slapped her best 'please like me' smile across her muzzle, the one she usually used on the matriarch's mate, who counseled the warren, to get what she wanted… not that it ever worked, but still. Couldn't hurt to try, right?

  "Well, I fuckin' hope so. That's why I hired you. Office is the first one you passed in the hall. I assume you know the programs outlined in the hiring app?" Not once did Greg look up from his work, his fingers a blur across his laptop keyboard while flicking his attention to the several monitors offering him an eagle's eye view of his bar.

  "Yes sir! Google excel and sheets, and the team communicates using the Monday app. Even passed the little test included online."

  "Oh good, Tracey finally got around to integrating that fuckin' thing. Can't tell you how many first day fires I've had to make when I send people back to do their job and hours go by while they fiddle fuck with the same system every data entry job uses." Greg finally found a moment to pause his flailing fingers to reach into his desk for another cigarette, lighting the little cancer stick right in front of Yelz who fought the urge to wave a paw in front of her muzzle. "Work's not terrible but it deals with my money. You fuck it up and you're gone, no three strike shit. Tracey is in the other office, the one closest to mine, she'll handle the heavy stuff while you'll get the trial numbers through the Monday thing for the first ninety days. You pass that and I'll get off your ass and bump you up to fifteen an hour."

  Yelz nodded, knowing that wouldn't cover rent forever. Wild Greg's, and its chaos, was only temporary. Once her other feelers returned better results, she'd be on to greener pastures.

  "Yes sir! I'll get right to it." Her only answer was a terse nod, as good a dismissal as any. Yelz didn't need to be told twice, hopping down from the uncomfortable chair to skitter down the hall with that telltale kobold trot; arms pulled in tight to her chest, paws dangling, leaned forward, legs a movin'. Eager to please, she bypassed Tracey's office for her own, reaching up to twist the rusted knob with a gusto that nearly had her falling on her still sore snoot.

  Again.

  Yelz' office was more a supply closet with the shelves removed and a desk squeezed into the corner with a single desktop computer and accompanying filing cabinet. Though, to her astonishment, a mini fridge was also provided. Fear filled the reptile as she stepped closer, flicking on the lights and letting the door swing shut behind her. Thankfully though, the internals were cold and devoid of three-thousand-year-old food.

  "Hah! No time for that now!" Bouncing from paw to paw, Yelz hopped into the worn rolling chair and used her tail to poke the power button on the tower beneath the desk. As if crawling from the primordial ooze the computer unleashed a whirring racket the likes of which Yelz hadn't heard since the snoring of some of her fellows back in the warren. For a moment she worried the little tower by her hanging paws would explode, or maybe catch fire, with how hard it was working. "You too, huh?" No response came from the tower that now emitted a pleasant warmth on her scaly toes. Hopefully that wasn't an omen. "Don't worry, I get quiet when I focus too." Focused enough to forget what she'd seen downstairs at least…

  Pretending to crack her knuckles, Yelz dived into the apps once the home screen populated. Everything she needed was nice and neatly aligned, along with the communication system simply labeled Monday. It was the first thing she delved into, opening a new account for her department. It was well organized, and a bit better than the apps she'd used back at the warren. Tracey, the faceless head of logistics next door, was already hard at work in the depths of the text logs.

  :Hello Mrs. Tracey! I'm Yelz, the new data entry next door? I see the list of tasks for today, just give me ten minutes to feel out the Monday app and I'll get work on the alcohol expenditures right away.:

  A bit of anxiety creeped up Yelz' spine as she hurriedly explored the communication system, impressed by the color coding and seamless integration with other applications. The quick response from whom she assumed was her point of contact while at work startled her, her claws quickly turning down the harsh notification volume.

  :Take your time, Greg is a ball buster. I'll cover for the first few days while you get your feet under you. Just Tracey is fine too, Mrs. Tracey is my mom.: That brought a smile to the kobold's face. Finally, someone who didn't intimidate her today! Well, besides Mrs. Patricia, that is. That brought her number of friends up to three! Patricia, Andrew, and now Tracey! This living on your own thing was confusing but at this rate she'd have a hoard of friendships, like a dragon of old.

  :Oh thank goodness. Excel and sheets I'm super used to, but the data comes from Monday. Once I'm used to that I'll be golden.:

  :Thank God, the last one lied about excel experience. It's why I made that dumb test.:

  :I didn't mind it. Honestly, I'm just glad for a friendly face and spot to hide in here. It doesn't seem very nice to girls. Especially short ones like me.: Confident enough in the new communications app, and with a mental not to suggest it to the warren, Yelz dived into the familiar green flow of Microsoft Excel, her little claws already slapping relevant numbers into proper columns to display the output and input of cash for the last week of alcohol expenditure. This was the simple stuff; money in, money out, costs and revenue… though, she could see how Wild Greg's expenses could get insane very quickly between the security, live music, energy bills, insurance and licenses, cleaning… there was so much that went into running a saloon.

  :Short? You a short stack queen?:

  :Kobold, security told me to stay up here.:

  :Whoo, yeah stay off the floor. Place is full of freaks especially if you stay past midnight.: Yelz had no desire to stay past midnight, but was under no illusions that the numbers could easily keep one trapped if they let them.

  :What happens at midnight?:

  :All that electro and bass switches out for country and the good ol' boys who spent all day working hit the floor to line dance or something. Problem is, Greg doesn't allow for any transition. The live music stops at ten, its recordings for an hour, then new live music or tracks are played, all country. It's when we have most our fights since no one wants to give up the floor.:

  Yeeeah… Yelz was going to keep her happy little tail planted upstairs until the commotion died down if the clock ever rolled over to the witching hour.

  :My landlord and the maintenance guy said to keep my head down here.:

  :Listen to 'em. Though, that means you live local?:

  :Yeah! Patricia's Palace.:

  :Right, should have guessed. It's about the only place with vacancy out here. Nice place, though a little pricey.:

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  :Tell me about it.:

  The hours passed in blur of idle chatter and mind-numbing numbers, the clack of her claws on the keyboard melding into a lullaby that she was more than experienced ignoring. At some point her tail had adopted a bob to the same beat as the ceaseless bass that penetrated the floor, twitching up and down like a worm on meth. Though they might be even more mindless in some regards if such a thing were possible. Eventually the music, just as Tracey had promised, quickly switched from the chest pounding drum and bass to a claw tapping up-beat cacophony usually only heard in spaghetti westerns.

  Followed quickly by shouts, the slamming of tables, and some garbled mess through the PA about orderly transition. Yelz nearly jumped out of her scales at the sudden shift, carefully sliding from her chair to stick her nose from the office door. A woman stood in the hall not far from her, idly sipping a soda. Tall, for human women at least, the olive-skinned lady glanced down at Yelz with a blink.

  "Oh. Huh, I mean, yeah you did say you were a kobold."

  "Uh… Tracey?" Tracey, apparently, just nodded, pointing down the hall to the wide-open veranda that overlooked the dance floor below.

  "Yup. Always take a break during the fight night hour." Amused, she followed the curious kobold as Yelz made way to the wooden guard rail, stopping beside a black shirted security guard barking orders into a radio. Below was pure pandemonium, as if someone had kicked an anthill. Average looking folk mixed with neon draped ravers wearing baggy clothing and sporting hairstyles that appeared to require a mixture of hairspray and prayer duked it out with cowboy boot clad, flannel rocking bearded middle aged men. It was impossible to tell which side was winning. Perhaps both… perhaps neither… that was until Yelz saw security peircing into the fray with a wedge formation, tossing grown men like sacks of concrete.

  Security was winning.

  "Is it like this every night?"

  "Every single night." Tracey sipped her soda, a Dr. Pepper, watching as Yelz squat like the raptors in that new Jurassic Park movie.

  "Hehehehe, they look little action figures up here. I wonder if the medical bills will be worth the memory of puffing up at security. Oh! That one got tossed by the hangy things on his pants!" Fear still ate away at Yelz' determination, the memory of the dead eyed dancers plauging her mind, but with the showing from security a sense of safety washed over the anxious kobold. At least up here nothing could touch her. Her own little safe room among the chaos. Well, Greg could… the man quite literally held her employment in his hands. Wild Greg's was terrifying but there was a sort of dysfunctional family here in the staff. Not happy per say, but a family all the same. In a similar way that cannibals loved each other, but still… "Every adventure needs a dungeon… yeah, this isn't scary, it's just my dungeon. With a few trapped innocents in it for… uh… for ambience." The words felt disrespectful on her tongue…

  "Huh?" Tracey tilted her head, eyeballing the kobold with confusion before a bark from the end of the hall made both women jump.

  "I don't pay you two to watch the nightly amateur wrestling match, back on those spreadsheets unless you're taking your lunch!" Greg grumped as he stormed around them, snatching the radio from the guard's hands to shout how he was two Excedrin from locking everyone inside and burning the place down to the dulcet tones of the Titanic soundtrack if they didn't get this riot under control. Scampering, tail between her legs, Yelz rushed to carry out her orders like said flames were licking at her paws. There was something in his voice… something nasty. The whiplash from slowly recovering confidence right back into fear was jarring, her pupils dilating as her blood pressure rose once more. Tracey was slower, rolling her eyes with unrestrained disdain.

  "Don't harass the new hires boss, this one already cleaned up the backlog of the last one you fired."

  "Good." The man called over his shoulder. "If we'd had a repeat, I'd have locked her in the fuckin' food freezer to see if kobolds are cold blooded."

  It had been a joke. Yelz knew that, she wasn't a hatchling. But something in man's tone was… like old sticky blood in a wound that went untreated.

  Rot.

  Kobolds had a nose for these things. It didn't take long for one to decide what kind of person you were. Be it right or wrong, the process was a quick one. Greg was like the fungus that grew on top of a corpse, a man who preyed upon the vices of his fellow man and only dedicated his care towards his bank account. Even now his directions were to guide the mass away from his tables- his bar- his sound equipment.

  His. His his his.

  Not once did he caution about excessive force or to watch each other's flanks for bottles made shanks. No this was hunger made manifest, a force of nature that clawed his way into authority as a means to control and amass. Though it wasn't his voice or his cold words, words Yelz very much believed even if only in the moment… it was Greg's eyes. Gone was the kobold's false sense of safety here on high, above the chaos and violence. Up here was a different danger, a creeping tickle akin to the twinkling violins that accompanied the twitching legs of a spider in the horror movies that played in the wee hours of the night. Reaching, poking, pricking, prodding for an opportunity to wrap you up and drain every bit of use it could out of your veins…

  The danger below was a simple one; a stepped-on tail, a black eye, tired legs from running away… but up here… suddenly the hallway felt far more hazardous. Tracey's words, once a balm upon her anxiety, flittered out like a spluttering candle at the end of its wick. Kind words didn't protect from viscous, oozing hunger like Greg's. No, you distanced yourself from it- ran like a pack of wild dogs was nipping at your ankles. Yelz knew then that there would be no staying long term at Greg's, her mind mush with worry as she returned to her desk to get back to work. It was the best way to ward off the encroaching fangs, giving him what he wanted… Until then, she'd just have to hope in the resumes she'd sent out. Surely one of the pokers in the fire would catch and she could leave Wild Greg's in her rear-view mirror.

  "Every adventure has a dungeon…" The terrified kobold told herself. "Every dungeon has a monster to slay…"

  ***

  Yelz and Tracey were the last to leave, a grumbling security guard hanging around to escort them through the now dark parking lot. Numbers and expenditures and dates swirled in Yelz' scaly little head like dreams through a cloud, her eyes crossing from the data overload she'd been subjected to. The weighted blanket of anxiety that had slowly started to suffocate the little lizard hadn't ebbed with the work, her focus torn between worry for her employment and doing everything she could to stay Greg's ire. It was childish, she knew, already well aware that the best defense was to make herself valuable to what he cared about. That being his bottom line, that positive income flow that would keep his business floating and his pockets lined. Much like the very patrons he preyed upon Greg was a simple predator, his motivations worn on his nicotine-stained sleeve. Keep the beast fed and it wouldn't be hungry enough to eat you.

  It was the only real lifeline she'd come to accept in this new environment. Especially after witnessing the dancers. Tracey was nice, sure, but after seeing Greg in action she knew that the kind woman would get swept aside by the club's proprietor in a moment if the situation called for it. Greg was a tidal wave, one that would drown those who were unprepared. Kobolds however prided themselves on slipping beneath the radar. This was just such a situation, one where sticking true to her prey animal origins would serve Yelz well… or at least that's what she told herself. Yawning, the exhausted reptile stretched and pushed away from her rickety desk as the damnable computer finally powered down for the night.

  "I'm so freakin' sleepy." Motivation had fled, as had energy, leading the kobold to drag her tail as she left the office to join Tracey and one of the guards who had broken up the riot earlier. The man wasn't very tall for a human but sported double cauliflower ears that told Yelz he was no stranger to a brawl.

  "Finally, I'm twenty minutes past clock out." He growled through artificially white teeth, his ire pushing Yelz closer to Tracey's legs. The older woman just rolled her eyes, fishing a pack of gum from her pocket.

  "Cry me a river, Steve. Unless you're throwing guys around all you do you is stand there."

  "Which I did. Throw guys around. All damn night while you pushed buttons in your posh little corner."

  Yelz ignored the duo, her eyes cast at the destruction that lay about the bar and dance floor. Broken bottles glittered like stars on the hard wood, throwing the low light over discarded cigarette butts, overturned tables and chairs, discarded clothing, smashed food, and a veritable sea of spilt booze. The smell was horrendous, her nose crinkling at the acrid stench. Cleanliness was a daily task back in the warren, for without it pests and vermin would threaten the small kobold community's already tight food situation. A small platoon of tired eyed cleaners were currently running themselves ragged as a new shift of security, these armed and even more sour looking, posted themselves at every window. Yelz eyed them and their gear with open curiosity, her abused nose wiggling at the scent of gun oil.

  Once outside, she quickly discovered why the club had need for a nighttime watch. Yelz found her claws which had wrapped around Tracey's pantleg transfer quickly to Steve's. The crowd hadn't left. Oh no, they'd simply taken the party outside. Soundproofing, quite effective Yelz noticed, had prevented her from even hearing the commotion outside Wild Greg's. Night had fallen hard, stars framing a full moon that cast thick beams down upon the earth below as the festivities dragged on. Empty bottles flew in wide sky bound arcs, falling back to the asphalt to shatter in miniature explosions of tiny glass shards that spread under foot and tire. Several impromptu fight rings populated the dark corners, bleeding men and howling women surrounded by throngs of wild-eyed betters and drunkards who cheered them on. Tracey waved her goodbyes, ones that fell on deaf ears, as Yelz had laid them flat to stymie the storm of sound piercing her brain like knives. Nodding, Steve motioned for her to lead on, a suggestion she didn't need to be offered twice. Nearly under the man's boots, Yelz pointed at her rust box of an Acura, gratefully nodding once she was safely in the driver's seat.

  He didn't look back, nor did she care as she prayed to any Gods that would listen to give her poor car that little push…

  Guh-guh-guh-guh-guh…

  "Shoot! Come oooonnnn!" Fear rose in Yelz throat as several heads turned her way. Steve wasn't one of them.

  Guh-guh-guh-guh-guh-guh

  "Okay okay okay! Depress the pedal?"

  Guh-guh-guh-guh-wwwhuuum!

  Relief flooded the kobold, her paws shivering as she navigated out of Wild Greg's parking lot and away from the several approaching figures she was sure just wanted to help… surely…

  "Adventuuuurreee…" It wasn't a… whine, not at all. It was a declaration of how much fun she was having! Yes, fun and excitement and that all-important character-building stress! "Ugh… why are some people like that?" No one was present to answer her, the kobold's slit reptilian eyes glancing back at the towering club currently shrinking in her rearview. "Who likes being that loud and mean? And just grabbing the dancers like that- it's so gross! They obviously don't like it! What's the point? Ugh, and Greg… Just keep your head down sister…" Again… silence…

  Too much silence…

  Hours upon hours of nerve melting music and angry screams and the pained wretch of vomiting had turned her mind to mush. That was bad sound. Back in the warren… the sounds were good. The laughter was genuine, the music was fun, the fights were quick and rare, and the conversations either interesting or endearing. Wild Greg's was like listening to the belly of a beast digest its prey… Normally she'd never step paw back inside. It was violent, it was smelly, it was chaotic, it was big and open and- and it was-

  All she had.

  Trapped… until another source of income was under her scales, Yelz couldn't leave. Greg and angry music… vomit and violence at midnight… parking lot fights and security escort just to safely leave… the place wasn't meant for little kobolds on their own… but it was all she had. If she left now there wouldn't be anyone to fall back on until she found something new. Yelz was alone, her wallet so much a collar around her throat. At the moment, the attached chain was held firmly in Greg's bony hand.

  "Haha… guess this is what the workers back at the warren call being a wage slave…"

  The long stretch of dark road ahead of her did little to assuage her mood, her tail curled uncomfortably behind her in the seat wiggling for the glove box and cell phone stashed inside.

  It was the top number on speed dial, so familiar she didn't even need to look.

  Home

  Her eyes weren't misty… or hot…

  The line didn't ring twice.

  "Yeeelllooooo, this is Emerald Forest Apartments, home of the Kert'Chik'Ik Kobold clan. How can I he-"

  "Tilly! Ahhhhh! I miss you!"

  "Yelz?" A shuffling on the line, a quick reptilian bark, the sound of a sea of shuffling paws, and the cacophony of familiar voices all calling her name…

  Family

  "Hey guys! How's hom- the warren?" Several voices spoke at once, the loudest being Kerta, one of the kobolds in the apartment's logistics team.

  "How are we? Bah! How are you? Living it up in an apartment all by yourself? Queen of the castle!" Once again, several voices spoke over him, one agreeing while another was worried she'd get lonely while yet another still wondered what it would be like to cook only for yourself.

  "Oh yeah! What's for dinner? I've been working my tail off all day!" Yelz held the phone higher in a coil of tail, grimacing at the time displayed. It was one in the morning. The warren never slept, but she sure did! The throb in her eyes told her she'd been up for eighteen hours, far too long for a reptile.

  "Corda is making lasagna! With extra meat!" A chorus of 'yums' and hungry hums accompanied the declaration.

  "That sounds soooo so good! I'm freaking starving! I haven't eaten since breakfast! I've been at work all day settling in."

  "Oh oh! How's work? That bar place, yeah? Is it scary?" Yelz wavered, her maw open… closed… a tongue snapped out to clean her eye…

  "It's busy! Lots of people in and out. And loud too! But its chill, no issues on my end." Toes curling- ears down… eyes to the side- off the road! Yelz swerved, silently cursing at herself to get it together.

  "Oh, that's good! We were all so worried!"

  "I'm fine guys! Thank you thank you!" A smile, genuine and relieved… she could smell them if she tried… "I'm almost home though, so I'll call you guys later!"

  "Send pics! The phone takes pics!"

  "I will! See you!"

  "Byyyyeee Yeelllzzz!" A dozen voices- her family… her friends… her warmth… She couldn't wait to try Corda's lasagna-

  Click

  …

  …

  …

  Yelz didn't lower the phone, holding it tight as if she were to keep it pressed to her ear, she'd still hear the comforting voices of her warren. Now all the tired kobold had for company was the rumble of the car and passing road. As if dragging her tail through mud, Yelz slowly lowered the phone… and tossed it in the cupholder, the sound disastrously loud.

  She wasn't going home. Her eyes weren't wet. They weren't hot. She had to leave, leaving would buy the warren so much time, it always did when one was sent away. Some stayed in contact, others… didn't… Yelz had to. The elation she'd felt hearing their voices came crashing right back down. Down into the silence and the stretching road. The thought of Corda, and everyone around the big table eating and hollering, made her stomach growl… no more than the sight of Gas and Gaskets though.

  Deep breaths… deeep breaths…. in… count to four…. out…. count to four… yeah…

  "I can do this. I can do this. Of course I'd be a little homesick. I can do this. Wild Greg's ai'n't nuthin'!" The fake smile on Yelz' muzzle turned ever so slightly real. She had to do this, for the warren! It would work out; she was doing everything right. That's all she could do, really. Do it right, the first time, or try again. There were no other options.

  Determination slowly bubbled up in her little scaly chest as she pulled into Gas and Gaskets, parking next to the front door with a pep in her step. The station was divided into three sections that served as a backdrop for three lonely gas pumps. The right side was a liquor store, its door and windows sporting thick, hefty bars. Nothing of interest for a cold-blooded reptile. In opposition, the far side was a hardware store, the front populated with rows of wood, screws, tools, and all other manner of supplies Yelz had no idea what to do with. A blinking neon 'Closed' sign shone over the front door, which… also had bars hardening it against the outside world. Thankfully, the center building was still alight with a warm yellow glow.

  A bell tolled a pleasant greeting as Yelz tip toed into the Gas and Gaskets, a man behind the raised counter looking up from his game boy to stare down at the kobold in office attire who had stepped into his shop at one in the morning. To his credit, he only blinked once before nodding her way.

  "Mornin' miss. You uh… don't mind me sayin', look exhausted."

  "I am exhausted…" Yelz offered a smile, flicking her tail aside before the door could close on it. "I'm uh, new around here. Yelz is the name! I'm starving."

  "Just gettin' off work? I got some stuff cookin' right now 'fore the real early risers get goin'." He stood, setting his gently beeping game aside to wander around the counter to a glass display of heated shelves. Several boxes stared back at Yelz, her maw filling with drool at the sight. Boxed personal pizzas, chicken biscuits, burritos… all the things a gas station could ever provide to destroy your gut and bathroom… "Where ya comin' from, if ya don't mind me askin'? Ah, I'm Johnna by the way." Yelz wiped her mouth before risking a word.

  "Wild Greg's, I'm a new number cruncher there." Like everyone she'd told, Johnna grimaced, sucking on his teeth.

  "Ah… just uh… watch ya back in there. You know what? I got some chicken on a stick that's fresh cookin' in the back if'n you want some?"

  "Chicken? On a stick?" Yelz tilted her head, ears flopping in interest.

  "Think a biiiiig chicken tender on a skewer."

  "Oooohhhhh!" The man chuckled at the sight of the kobold's pupils growing like dinner plates while her paws pitter pat in an excited dance, wandering into the back for a moment to return with a stick as long as Yelz forearm. Said stick held the longest, most golden chicken tender the reptile had ever seen. "Hoooooh!" Her tail wagged against her will, reaching up on her tip toes to grasp the bottom of the treat. With an unashamed "GNAAAAH" the kobold bit into the first real meal she'd had since leaving the warren. Juices ran down her maw to get caught by a paw before it could mess her blouse, a proffered napkin saving the day as she nodded her thanks. Perhaps it was the hunger, but… the chicken on a stick was pure ambrosia… "Oh my Gods… Mpphhhh… sho good…"

  "Did you just move 'round here or…?" Yelz nodded, taking another bite that nipped the stick within.

  "Just across the road actually, Patricia's Palace."

  "Oh! I live in unit twelve!"

  "Twenty-Seven! I just got in last night during that storm. I had to call Andrew like… five minutes after getting in. I felt so bad."

  "Mr. Fix-It himself huh? All that rain… had a leak?" She nodded, halfway done with her stick. "So that's what he's been doin' over there. I saw his van over there when I came in."

  "He's here?" Yelz tail undulated as if in a gentle breeze. "Andrew?"

  "Yup, probably been workin' on your apartment all day. Leavin' a job undone always put him in a mood." Johnna raised a hand as Yelz reached in her skirt pocket, that's right her skirt had pockets, for some money to pay. "Nah nah, consider it an extremely cheap house warmin' gift."

  "Oh! Thank you so so much! I'm kinda… tight until I get my first paycheck from Greg's…"

  "Don't I know what that's like…" Sighing heavily, Johnna leaned back to stare at some far-off memory through the wall, his brown eyes glazed and unfocused. "Anyway, if ya need anything just give my door a knock. I'm either here, there, or fishin'."

  "Yes! Four friends now! I'm on a roll!" Yelz took her final bite with a little jig, twisting this way and that in a bodily show of victory despite the fatigue threatening to pull her eyes shut. No amount of enthusiasm could replace energy however, her happy dance stuttering as she nearly tripped on her own sandal. "Agh… Gosh, am I tired."

  "Y'all go and get some rest 'lil miss!" Johnna waved as Yelz left, a wide smile on his face. "And give me a holler if you need it!" Returning his wave, Yelz drove her struggling car the fifty yards or so to Patricia's Palace, parking next to the oversized white van she'd seen Andrew arrive in during the screaming storm last night. Every fiber of her being wanted nothing more than to strip down to her scales, shower, and plop on her gargantuan bed. Alas, she had a guest in her lair.

  Yes… her lair… Through the weight of fatigue, Yelz let one ear perk high while the other flopped listlessly, her imagination in overdrive as she imagined herself a powerful dragon, her four strong legs and sharp claws carrying her through the threshold like a regal queen entering her chambers. Off came the sandals so reveal soft, dainty paw- No! Big meaty paws that could cleave trespassers in twain!

  Yes yes! She was… twelve feet tall and… twenty feet long! Sleek and powerful, returning home to check on her… vassal! Yes, her loyal vassal who had been working in the blazing sun to repair… battle damage!

  Yes.

  Stifling a giggle, Yelz knocked on the wall with her, unfortunately, tiny paw.

  "Andrew?" The roar of fans and rumble of dehumidifiers drowned out her voice, carrying them away on artificial winds. Shrugging, she delved deeper into her own home, finding the man putting some finishing touches on drywall repair. It was as if nothing had ever happened, the outline of the still somewhat tacky plaster already drying to match the rest of the wall. The vulnerable carpet about him was protected with a layer of plastic sheets covered in drywall dust and a few errant drops of still wet plaster. "Mister Andrew!" The man's head snapped around, a pencil raised as if it were a deadly dagger meant to conquer a beautiful drago-

  No no, focus Yelz. He's not here to play! The kobold chastised herself, smiling a maw full of tiny white fangs as she leaned down to look small and give the startled man a wave.

  "Ah, Miss Yelz. Just puttin' the finishing touches on your wall. Had some spots that soaked through, so I went ahead and replaced 'em before you caught something from mold. Was comin' through a cracked siding outside."

  "Thanks! That sounds bad!"

  "So how was Greg's?" Andrew reached to start deactivating his fans one by one, the din dying with each silent machine.

  "It was uh… fine."

  "That bad huh?"

  "I stayed upstairs."

  "Perfect spot for ya." His knees popped as he rose, setting every fan side by side at the bedroom door. "No one messed with ya?"

  "Nope, security followed me around like big muscly lost puppies." No matter how hard she tried to keep her smile bright, it began to fade. "Everyone seems really worried that I'm working there. And by everyone, I mean like… three people, but still. Oh, and thank you so so much for fixing my leak!"

  "That's what I'm here for!" This time, Andrew's smile was genuine. He took his time gathering tools and wrapping up any mess that had fallen onto the plastic sheets. "Greg's and… well, Greg has a bit of a reputation in this town."

  "Technically we're still in Alysia." Yelz held up a claw.

  "Them's fightin' words." Yelz dropped a claw. "Anyway, that place draws in all the worst of the city lookin' to tear it up without the cops gettin' called before the first punch is thrown. There's also a lot of sex, drugs, and uh… other shit in that place."

  "I can… imagine…" A shiver started in her tail, crawling up her scales like a centipede that had the kobold squirming in place. Andrew turned towards her with eyes as piercing as- as Greg's… yet, instead of the sharp gaze of a predator, Andrew's emerald, green eyes were searching and… wise. They reminded Yelz of her matriarch back home…

  Home

  "You okay?" He wasn't demanding or firm… only… offering.

  Yelz swallowed, her paws curling up into her chest… before she nodded short and sure.

  "Yeah, I just… gotta get used to it." Andrew stared for a moment longer, a moment that felt to stretch far longer than it should… before he nodded.

  "You're an adult. Don't feel like you can't tell that fucker to kick rocks though, yeah? Just… do it after you leave the building. Preferably from your phone while you're driving here. Then call Patricia." Orders received, Yelz nodded quickly. The man radiated a sense of… she didn't quite know how to put it… been there, done that confidence. The room about him seemed to change. Charged, as if she'd licked a battery on a dare. Unlike Greg, Andrew had this sense of… drawn energy, like a bow string. It was there, ready, under the surface. Something only a prey species like her could really notice. Taught… vibrating… yet, calm… Andrew seemed… lived to her, like- not like her matriarch, she realized with a start that had her tail curling. No, Andrew reminded her of the single smartest kobold in the warren, the matriarch's mate. Urlin was the male's name, a seldom spoken kobold but when he did? Everyone listened, including the matriarch. He hated being the center of attention but boy, could he solve just about any problem his mate couldn't.

  A fear Yelz hadn't realized she'd been carrying since leaving Greg's fell off her shoulders, her smile a touch softer… gentler… calmer… her heart slowed and her claws unclenched…

  This time, when she nodded, it was once; strong, determined… perhaps still a little scared… but no one else had presence like Greg had… not until now.

  "You know? I think I'll come to you."