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It was a lazy summer morning in a sleepy fishing village. Surrounding the quaint village were rolling seas of green where the soft warm breeze played about the tall rolling grass. The scent of morning dew and salt water clung to the air as well as the rich smell of wood smoke which curled from brick chimneys. To his nostrils it was as rich as pipe tobacco and as sweet as a chestnut. By the small banks of a rippling stream a young Rat laid upon his back with his hands behind his head. The wind rustled the leaves above him and tickled ever so lightly over his milky white fur. His chest rose and fell with deep and steady breaths as he basked in the serenity and comfort of his childhood home. In the distance a loud whistle sounded which caused his rounded ears to twitch and his eyes to open. His ruby red eyes blinked groggily as he fished a watch from his pocket and checked the old beaten timepiece. He squeaked in surprise, that was the Noon train bound in from a county down. He scrambled to his feet and moved up the riverbank to the worse for wear motorbike that was propped up beside a wooden bridge. Gideon slipped his goggles from his cap down over his eyes and gave the bike a quick kick-start which caused the engine to sputter before growling to life. With deft fingers he placed it into gear and slowly rolled on the throttle, picking his feet up he rode away from the grass which still bore his outline as he had fallen asleep for well over two hours....again. He rode over a packed clay and gravel road into the town. Past Ms. MacCarthy's Bakery, the old badger could always make some delicious scones...he shook his head to clear his mind of all things confection related as he pulled up to the old general store. After finding a safe place to rest his motorbike, he walked inside and rubbed the back of his head as standing before him was a not too impressed looking Hare who was not only long in the tooth, but showing a fair bit of grizzled grey fur speckling his otherwise chestnut fur. "Late again Gideon." He said as he turned his brown eyes towards a clock which hung on the wall, just over top of a pile of flour sacks. "Dozing by the banks again?" He asked with his nose twitching. Gideon shuffled his boot against the hemlock floorboards. "Y-yes S-sir. I lost track of time." He said as he looked at the almost comically long and curled whiskers about the Hare's nose. The Hare's expression softened. "Right." He said as he placed his hands upon the counter top. "Well, you missed opening, but you beat the train here, so there is that at least. When Mr. Miller gets here with the delivery, stow it round back and then sweep up." He said and the Rat nodded quickly. "Y-yes Sir." He said as he just noticed his goggles were still over his eyes. He placed them back on the brim of his cap.

Later that day, Gideon had just finished pushing the day's dust out of the front door and then turned around to place the straw thatched broom back into a corner. His long tail deftly reached over and pulled the front door closed behind him which jingled the tiny copper bells which hung above. He looked at his handiwork. An impressively stocked and arranged space, free of dust and cobwebs. His tail lifted and flipped the door's sign around to read "Closed" and then walked to the counter. "A-all done S-s-sir." He stammered. The aged Hare had just finished counting the register for the day and proceeded to walk the cash tray over to a safe kept at the other end of the counter. "Well then, You'll be wantin' your wages then won't you?" He asked as he looked at the small Rat over the edge over the spectacles he wore while counting money. Gideon nodded eagerly. "Y-yes. I-if it's not too much t-trouble." Gideon said as he removed his cap from his head and wiped his brow with his sleeve. "Well then, I s'pose I can oblige." The Hare said as he counted out some coins and a few paper notes. Gideon placed his cap upon the counter and the hair deposited his earnings within, along with a butterscotch candy-stick that had arrived from the mainland just that day. "Hurry home lad, don't keep your parent's waiting." He said while cracking a small soft smile at the boy. Gideon slipped the candy stick in his mouth before placing his cap, coins and all upon his head before giving a hurried "Th-thank you!" before slipping out the door. The Hare shook his head before moving to the front door to turn the deadbolt before heading for the stairs to move up to his residence above the storefront.

The ride home in the dwindling summer sun was easy and calming to Gideon. Across a bridge where he slowed to take in the sights of the Barques and Sloops that occupied the harbour. His thoughts lingered to his time at sea, the friends he had made and the places he had seen, all crept to his mind within an instant and his old sense of zeal and pride caused a small spark in his chest to flicker into a flame. He grinned as he changed gears and leaned forward, almost pressing himself against the handlebars to reduce drag. His wrist slowly moved to crack the throttle open once more and he zoomed up the steep hill that took him to his family home. He slowed and then looked to the little house that at one point could have been a chicken coop or perhaps a barn? He stowed his bike beside a rather downtrodden fence and dismounted. He sighed to himself as he wiped his boots on a worn doormat before walking inside. His mother was nowhere to be seen, nor his Father. However upon the table there was a note. "Son, we took a day trip to the city. Please try and keep out of trouble. <3 ~" Gideon nodded to the note as though the writing was spoken to him before pocketing it. He moved over to a small bed tucked away in the corner of the house and sat upon it. He reached under and withdrew a small tin box that at one point had likely held chocolates. His fingers traced over the lid which depicted the colourful streets of Paris. He tilted his head in thought, he had never seen France like that, he only saw the stinking ports just off the Themes. He opened the lid and inside was a small collection of buttons, coins and some carefully stowed bank notes. He carefully slipped the cap from his head and emptied it's contents into the box. He blinked as he noticed a slip of paper inside the box as well. He picked it up and his red eyes skimmed over his own somewhat messy handwriting. "Some day this money will see you home. Don't waste it Sailor." Gideon looked at it with a nostalgic look and placed it back upon the bed of coins before carefully placing the lid back upon it and then he slid it back under his bed, tucking it neatly behind the headboard's leg.

He hung his cap upon the foot board before standing up and giving a stretch, followed by a long yawn and barely audible squeak before he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He slipped the tweed vest from his shoulders and hung it likewise at the foot of his bed. He slipped the suspenders from his shoulders and let them dangle down by his knees before pulling his shirt off over his head, hanging it as such with the rest of his garments. He reached down and unlaced his brown leather boots and placed them under his bed. He wiggled his clawed and naked toes, enjoying the open air upon his tired feet. Lastly he moved across the room where a dented copper pitcher sat upon a small stand along with a chipped basin. He poured a measure of water inside and began to scrub his face, arms and chest clean from the day's grime. To the casual observer's surprise, they would find that the large grey patches on his fur slowly began to fade down into smaller specs as most of his discoloration was caused by his fur getting stained from either Oil, Coal or dust. As he finished he emptied the basin out a nearby window and replaced it before moving to his bed once again. He looked over to his bedside table and opened the small drawer. He withdrew a box of matches and a small stub of a candle upon a metal holder. He lit the candle and watched the flame dance a moment or two before replacing the box of matches. From within the same drawer he withdrew a blue covered book. He ran his fingers over the lettering and the small embossed image of a while upon the front. It was his childhood favorite. Moby Dick. He fluffed up his single pillow before laying back upon his bed which creaked under his weight. In the flicker of the candle's light his eyes moved over the words before him, and like that he was no longer in this small run down shack of an old house...But walking the streets of Nantucket, ready to set sail again on the adventure of his life. "C-call me Ishmael...." He began. Not before long, his eyes grew heavy and soon he was dozing peacefully again with his book resting upon his bare chest. As the moon began to peak from behind the tall maple trees, the candle burned down and the day's toils gave way to the quiet security of a summer's eve.