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_ The Climb _

I'd overpacked my grocery bags. I knew that from the moment I had to lug all four of them out of the store.

The decision to do an extra-large after-work shop, thereby granting myself a day off from that part of my weekly routine, seemed great in theory. Unfortunately, said 'theory' hadn't accounted for the subsequent walk home beneath a hot summer sun.

In fairness, the moving walkways did help hasten my journey from the store, saving some strain on my legs. Too bad they couldn't rescue my arms from far greater toil.

Two sets of bag straps had dug deep into the fur and flesh of my fingers, lingering for so long that the sharpness of pain had become more like burning.

Meanwhile, the other two sets hung from the crooks of my elbows, doing their part to create the dull, almost numbing ache in my shoulders.

The temptation to set my bags down and simply let the walkways move me came on again and again, and rush-hour crowds be damned, I would have, if not for all the frozen things I'd decided so sensibly to purchase.

Those dense crowds had thinned right down by the time I made it into the cool shade of my apartment building, its smaller bricks joined to the larger ones forming the Visoka-sized equivalent.

Regrettably, getting cover from the sun did little to ease the heat in my arms or face. Nor could it help my breathing that far more resembled panting. Breathing that suggested I'd sprinted, rather than shuffled, my way there.

I didn't have that much further to go, though; a fact that I reminded myself of, over and over.

It'd be a short stroll from the walkway to the building's entrance.

From there, the elevator would whisk me up to the fifth and top floor.

Then, I'd be out on the hopefully breezy balcony access, moments away from my apartment, and moments away from finally dropping these bags like a bad habit and getting a drink so big, I wondered if I might drain the kitchen tap.

I held that wonderful thought in my desperate head from the second I stepped off and out from that sheltered, ground-level section of walkway, beginning a weary waddle up the static front path.

The promise of the elevator's shiny metal doors lingered in my mind, playing the part of a big, juicy carrot dangling from an irritatingly long string.

I couldn't wait to make it inside and cast my eyes on them for real... Though once I did, I soon wished I hadn't.

See, my imagination hadn't anticipated the small paper sign I found stuck to said doors. The one bearing three simple, hastily scrawled words reading, 'Out of Order'.

I stopped dead inside the open doorway, then just stared, glared, at that sign across the concrete hallway. My red-hot face got even redder and hotter.

"Oh, you're kidding..."

Down to the floor went my groceries, harder and louder than I probably should've allowed. Not that I cared about the fate of anything fragile inside them as they hit the deck.

"Again?"

Instead, to me, right then, there were only those shiny, impassable metal doors... set beside a first flight of stairs that seemed to grow steeper by the second.

"Really!?"

I turned the air between those four grey walls the deepest blue. Screw the open doorway, and the stairwell, too. I couldn't have cared less who might've heard me venting. I'd rode that blasted elevator that very morning, on my way off to work, but just a few hours later...

Ugh.

Buying far more groceries than usual smacked even more like a stupid, annoying mistake as I faced the prospect of hauling them up not one but _four_flights of stairs.

"Woah!" someone called from outside. "Hey, yo, what's all the yipping about down in there?"

My fur frizzed. The aches in my limbs and the heat in my face all faded for a moment; realisation setting in over who that voice was talking to.

"Sounds like they're tryin' to fight something," answered another, bassier voice.

I turned to peek back out into the bold daylight. My eyes took time to adjust, filtering out the bright white to find two waiting pairs of Visoka-sized shins, one set skinny and brown-furred, the other more muscular and black, rising beyond the walkway from the pavement proper.

"That you, mouse?" asked the first voice. "Making a whole lotta noise for such a little dude."

I craned my neck up, then up, eventually finding faces peering down from beneath the clear blue sky. They belonged to a lanky coyote with pointy ears and an even more pointed smirk, and a 'shorter', burlier badger looming large with something of a surly air about him.

"So, what's your deal?" blared the 'yote, his yellow t-shirt and neon pink shorts rivalling the sun for intensity. "What you bugging out about?"

I didn't know what to make of these two. That question sounded genuine, but while getting a read on the badger wearing far more neutral athletic gear proved tricky, I couldn't miss the smirk painted onto the 'yote's muzzle.

"Yo, you ain't hearing me with them big ears of yours down there? Your Normaliser thingy on the fritz or something?"

"No, no, uh, I hear you." I stepped out into the open air and offered them a full view of me; a fact that didn't leave me feeling all that comfortable. "It's the elevator. It's broken. Again."

"Ooh, sucks to be you," the 'yote replied. "With all them little bags you got there, too... I mean, not so little for you."

Grunting, his badger pal bent his knees, shifting his head and broad shoulders, as if that were actually necessary to see past me. "They sure do look heavy... for a Maleni."

Suddenly, getting a read on them both proved an awful lot easier. "...Yeah."

"What floor d'ya live on?"

"...Top."

He snorted in return.

Then, his 'yote friend leaned forward to chime in. "Even better- worse, I mean. Sorry, heh."

That got another amused rumble from the badger. "Bet gettin' a lift up there'd be real helpful right about now, eh?"

Yes. It would've been. But to say I didn't trust a helping paw from either of these jokers would be an understatement. Not that I trusted the authenticity of their offer anyway.

Regardless, I spoke up and confirmed, "...Yeah."

The 'yote chuckled through his persistent smirk. "Well, someone might come along to offer you one."

Badger boy snorted harder, louder, crossing his strong arms. That meathead raised little doubt as to who had the brains in this unfunny operation of theirs.

A thought that I, of course, kept all to myself. "...Maybe."

As engaging and entertaining as this discussion was, I figured that'd be as good a time as any to take my leave and retreat back inside.

Sure, all those concrete stairs, and the bulging grocery bags I'd have to drag up them, weren't too pleasant to look at, but I much preferred that to loitering outside in a pair of increasingly unsettling shadows.

Sighing, I grabbed up my bags, two to each arm once more, as ready as I'd ever be to start scaling that first flight of stairs.

They'd got heavier, I felt sure of it, forcing that familiar strain and soreness back into my muscles and fingers.

No sense in waiting around for it to get worse, though.

Without further pause, I started towards, then up those first few steps of the stairwell.

Dear gods, did I discover how hard that climb would be and then some. Those first steps hit as if I were wading through a sea of treacle. Like me myself had doubled in weight, never mind my bags.

Still, I pressed on, one plodding stomp after another. After all, it's not like I had an alternative, other than to leave a hundred tolars worth of groceries to rot, melt, or whatever else down by the entrance.

While my arms burned, legs trembled, and grunting loudened, I did what I could to keep a positive spin on my thoughts. Namely, I expected... hoped... that those two jokers outside might clear off during the climb. An undeniable plus to the arduous slog it was fast becoming.

But, to my shock, horror, despair, I'd see that hope dashed only halfway up to the first floor.

As I shuffled along the half-landing, turning back on myself to begin the second half of that initial ascent, I caught a glimpse of the 'yote beyond the top of the stairs, that same pointed smirk still plastered all over him.

"Sure taking your sweet time making it up here," he jeered. "Figured you might've got yourself lost."

I grunted with a discomfort way beyond what my bags could've created, waiting until I had no choice but to lift my snout and make eye-contact.

Outside he waited, crouched down, head tilted and lowered, blocking out the light as he watched from above the wall of the first floor balcony path.

"C'mon," he barked, finishing with a snort. "Get those tiny legs pumping."

I tried my hardest to ignore him, 'pumping' my legs in spite of him as I continued my climb. Four... three... two steps to go.

That's about when I caught sight of the badger standing beside his partner in comedy, standing similarly compacted, ready to treat me to more of his own unfunny repertoire.

"Just the first flight outta four, shorty," he gruffed. "Gettin' tired?"

Finally, I could take a final step off the stairwell and out into the open of the first floor balcony. The cooling breeze I'd hoped for was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by the hot, humid air being spouted from a pair of muzzles hovering far too close to the building for my liking.

Why couldn't they just leave?

Was crouching down outside a Maleni-sized apartment block really that much fun to them?

What had I done to them to deserve this?

Was it a rodent thing?

Pfft. Who was I kidding? This was a _size_thing, broad as the daylight those two were blotting out.

"Dude, you're panting _that_hard already?" teased the coyote. "On the _first_floor?"

I blanked him, his radioactive yellow shirt, and the monochrome moron grinning next to him, turning myself and my attention back fully towards the stairwell.

All their snorts and snickers stung like pin pricks in my back, but I refused to let them get the better of me. Instead, I used it to push on, bite down, ignore the strain in my limbs, and take the first stomp up the next flight of stairs.

They carried on supplying their backhanded support the whole way up onto the second floor. Truthfully, somewhere along the way, all their jokes and jibes had dissipated into one long drone in my ears.

Good. I doubt I'd missed much.

My scorching arms edged nearer their limit as I approached the top of the stairway once more, but seeing those two outside again, hearing their ironic cheers, drove me ever onwards.

"Don't give up," grunted the badger. "But don't go havin' a heart attack, either."

"You can shift faster than that, no?" said the 'yote. "Those baby steps you're taking are _tiny,_even for a Maleni."

Two floors down, two to go.

Scaling the third flight went a lot like the second, and first one before that. The main exception being my shoulders feeling ready to pop right out of their sockets.

How my legs hadn't given out, I hadn't a clue.

Adrenaline?

Maybe.

Pure, undiluted bitterness towards the dipshit duo _still_taunting me?

Probably.

Yet again, as I turned one-eighty on the stairwell's half-landing, I had their smug faces to welcome me, blotting out a little less sun, at least, now that they were up standing closer to their full height.

Once I'd made it out onto the third floor balcony, one storey below my apartment, I wanted so badly to block out their stupid taunts and put downs one more time, then drag myself, and my groceries, up towards the top floor.

My tired, trembling legs simply refused to cooperate, though. The mere thought of trying to take another step had them close to buckling.

I had to stop.

To rest.

To drop my bags.

To sigh out loud at the instant relief coursing through my searing arms.

I fell back against the wall of the apartment beside the stairwell, just about stopping myself from giving out completely and sliding down into a seat on the grubby concrete floor.

Needless to say, my impromptu break wouldn't be a quiet one. My audience and their nonsense would see to that.

"Yo, you looking dead on your feet there, dude," crowed the skinny 'yote, still having to lower and twist his head to see me past the balcony above. "But, you can count, yeah? 'Cos you ain't at the top floor just yet."

"Ya need work on ya cardio," added the badger, less hunkered down, but sneering just the same. "Build some muscle in those spindly little arms, too."

Yet more stupid chuckling came next, carving its way right through me.

I couldn't do it any longer.

Between all their shit, and the genuine pain starting to set in...

I couldn't stop myself snapping.

"Why don't you just back off!?"

...Even in the face of two guys the size of my apartment block.

"Why... can't you just help if you're gonna stick around? ...Instead of just poking fun."

Their mouths hung open, their eyes went and stayed wide. For a moment, just a split second or two... I thought I'd got through to them.

As if.

"Pah, calm down, tiny!" cried the badger, adding a wicked crease to his gloating smile.

"Yeah, keep it chill," squealed his friend. "Save some of that energy for the rest of the stairs."

They laughed like a drain I wished they'd fall into.

My word, I wanted so much to put them right. To say something that'd shut their traps for good.

But what could I say to a pair like these? A pair of sizeist bullies with nothing better to do but stand around and ruin my day.

"Wait, you're for real?" scoffed the 'yote, shaking his head. "You'd really ask _us_to carry you and your bags up? With how easy it'd be to drop or squash... them?"

"Heh." The badger's bristly snout swept forward, passing over the balcony wall... only stopping an arm's length from me. "That would suck."

I have no shame in admitting that they sent a shiver down my spine between them.

Deep down, I doubted they'd get physical with me, but... as a Maleni, you could never forget just how easy it'd be for a Visoka to do whatever they wished with you.

Even with my back pressed firmly to the wall, I took a deep breath, swallowed down the tightness in my throat, and reminded myself where I was. People didn't do stuff like that in a city like Koprovice. Even a pair of dense losers like these.

It wasn't easy to keep that in mind, however, all while they and their bright clothes and broad selves hid the world beyond the balcony away.

"Hey." That brawny badger pointed at something further along the balcony. "Why dontcha use that?"

I followed his finger, peering down the access path to where a bike sat chained up opposite someone's apartment door.

For the first time, his 'yote pal spoke up to say something bordering on sensible. "And how's he gonna ride that up a buncha stairs, numbnuts?"

"Hey, it's an idea!"

"Yeah, a dumb one."

"A bit like ya face, then."

I huffed once I'd caught enough breath to be able to. The bags sitting either side of me weren't about to move themselves... And I didn't want to spend any more time on that balcony than I needed to.

"Anyway." The 'yote shifted his attention back to me. "One more floor to go there, champ. Gimme some hustle!"

Really? Did these goons _genuinely_not have anything better to do on such a sunny day than give me grief?

Whatever. They had one thing right at least.

One more floor to go.

Climbing that fourth and final flight of stairs would prove the toughest of all, made only tougher by the relentless 'cheering' flooding in from outside, no doubt audible to anyone home on any of the five floors.

My stinging, weakening fingers couldn't have been far from giving up the ghost and letting go completely, all while the bag straps digging into the insides of my elbows felt close to slicing straight through them.

That wasn't even to mention my legs. Legs that I could barely feel, barely move. More like two stacks of stone than a functional pair of limbs.

It must've been pure desire to get myself home and out of sight of those clowns carrying me on. No question, I'd have taken far more than one break without it.

In that respect, one might've argued they were owed a debt of gratitude for helping me make it that far.

On the other hand, I'd retort to say screw them, screw their comments, their intimidation, and screw the awful time they'd forced me to endure!

The second half of that final flight devolved into a battle of attrition against gravity. Every unstable upward step I forced came with a groan through gasping breath, my face burning so much that the red must surely have been visible beneath my fur.

Still, I kept on going, kept on fighting, until I made it to that slow, wobbly, final stride.

The pain swelling throughout me tempered into relief. It left me the capacity to suck down all the air I could gather and just... pause.

I'd made it...

Four heavy bags.

Up four flights of stairs.

Almost in one go...

Wow.

My aching body had nothing left to give. All I could do was take a couple of staggered steps away from the stairwell, set down my bags, and collapse against the nearest wall.

Mercifully, said wall belonged to my apartment. Just a few short paces would take me all the way to my front door.

And away from the two Visoka _still_refusing to get off my case.

"You made it!" cried the 'yote, stepping back to see me up level with his ears on the fifth storey. "Gold star for little dude."

"And in not a bad time, either," the badger replied, also moving away, maybe even tiptoeing to find me past the balcony's guard wall. "I'm impressed..."

If I hadn't known better, I'd have heard their quips as genuine encouragement... Their sneering condescension aside.

"I mean... I'm impressed ya tiny little legs didn't go bucklin'."

Gah! I had _so_much that I wanted to say to them as they snickered away, with not much of it polite.

I stayed quiet, of course. What else could I do? Nobody in their right mind picked a fight with a Visoka, never mind _two_of them. Not when they were big enough to pluck you up and away from your top floor apartment if they wished.

No... Quiet was the right call. Quiet, and getting myself off that balcony as soon as possible.

Eyes down, concentrating what little residual energy I had left, I less lifted, more dragged my bags towards my front door, stumbling one clumsy step after another.

I must've looked ridiculous, hunched over, waddling. Not that I sought confirmation, nor got it from beyond the balcony wall.

To my frustration, that didn't mean my unwanted audience had quite finished with me yet.

"Hey," called the 'yote. "Ain't even gonna thank us for cheering you on?"

"Tsk. Whatcha gonna do?" grumbled the badger. "Some folk're just ungrateful."

I let out some grumbles of my own, tossing in some growls for good measure as I strode further along the balcony.

Each and every step I'd taken on my journey thus far lingered in my lead-like legs.

They'd manage a few more, though, so help me gods.

My apartment door drew nearer and nearer. Never before had it looked so inviting.

"Fuck it," snapped the badger, coarse as ever. "I'm bored of this now."

"Pfft, yeah," said his friend. "Another stuck up Maleni. Total shocker."

I heard the first of their departing steps, and sensed their presence dissipating.

Off towards their own apartment around the corner, perhaps? If so, I_really_hoped they were on the top floor, and that their lift was broken, too.

At last, after so many floors and far too many steps, I made it to the threshold of my front door. Just in time, judging by how readily I fell forward to rest my head and shoulder against it.

My poor, exhausted arms, they needed so much time and effort just to be moved towards my trouser pocket.

My fingers, sore and throbbing, then made rough work retrieving my keys.

For a moment, I had my doubts that they'd be able to work the lock properly between them. Thankfully, those doubts proved misplaced.

With a shaky turn of the handle and an awkward push of the door, the blissful sight and scent of home, sweet home revealed itself.

I didn't have the power to lift my groceries again. My legs, however, as stiff and heavy as they were, still had a little more left to offer.

One after the other, I started to kick and slide the bags across the threshold. Just a few seconds longer, and I could make my way to the kitchen, gulp down so much water, and fall into the first seat I found.

Three bags inside the hallway, I shifted my foot to move the fourth and last...

Until something stopped me.

A distant sound in my perking ear... Voices.

Coming from somewhere just around the corner.

"What?" One was gruff and bassy. "What d'ya mean ya don't have your key?"

"I mean I don't got it, obviously." The other shrill and snarky. "And you always got yours anyway."

_Those_two clowns again.

"Not today, I don't," stormed the badger. "Been at the gym for my session with that tiny red panda with the attitude."

"And?" asked the coyote, still full of sneer. "What's that gotta do with anything?"

"I wanted to keep things light, so I figured... I was meetin' you after and ya'd have your key on ya."

"Well, you done fucked up, 'cos I ain't."

That broad badger's groan carried like he'd stayed right next to the balcony. "So now what?"

"I dunno."

"How're we gettin' inside?"

"I said, I dunno!"

"Oh, that's amazing," I mumbled to myself, clenching a weak, victorious fist while I slid the last of my groceries over the threshold. How I didn't burst out laughing right there and then, I haven't a clue. "Karma, you little... big bastards."

"Gonna have to put in a window," said the badger. "It's the only thing for it."

"You gonna go explain that to the landlord?" the 'yote spat back. "To fuck goes the deposit and then some."

"...Locksmith, then."

"Dude, I ain't about to try finding the cash for that! Are you?"

"...Man, we're boned."

"Hah!" I slapped a paw to my snout. Damn it. I just couldn't keep all that delight to myself.

Silence came next, the dull drone of passing traffic around the corner the only exception.

Not a chance was I daft enough to hang around in the doorway any longer.

I hopped, skipped, and tripped past my groceries, shoving the door closed as soon as I could.

In the dim, windowless light of the hallway, I froze, heart pounding from my chest to my ears...

Did they hear that? Had they heard me taking so much pleasure from their misfortune?

A second or two passed.

Then a couple more.

Nothing followed, however. No voices. No approaching footsteps.

Would I have heard them coming anyway, I wondered?

Far from the best time to be unsure of my apartment's acoustics, I conceded.

Taking far more care, I dragged tired legs past my overloaded bags again, holding my breath once I neared the front door.

A speck of daylight filtered in through the peephole; my only means to see the outside world from this newfound hideaway called home.

I put a tentative eye to it. Saw the empty balcony outside, and those of the apartment building across the way...

But no sign of those big lugs.

Of course, not a chance had they heard me laughing, I figured. How could they? Forget the fact they'd made it all the way around the corner, those two morons were no doubt far too caught up in themselves to notice-

A brown blur rushed into view.

Moved into a clearer position.

Overtook most of the apartment building opposite.

Then stopped and waited for the full second my eye needed to adjust and focus.

That's when I watched that lanky coyote, or his eyes and perked ears at least, peering all around the alley, searching for something...

Perhaps for me.

Having such a small opening to peek through made it tough to work out the details, even on an oversized mug like his.

Was he annoyed? Upset? ...Neutral? I really couldn't tell.

He took a step forward, further into the alley, stopping perilously close to right outside my apartment.

I heard him groan out loud.

Then mutter a muted something.

"...I ain't believing this shit right now."

My fur prickled, tingled, prompting me to duck away from the peephole as fast as my worn out muscles would permit.

I really must've been exhausted, because it took me a moment...

Then another...

Followed by a third...

...To realise he had no chance of seeing me through the door.

Finally, I accepted my safety there in my own home.

I had, and quickly embraced, the freedom to stand back up, gather myself...

And almost double over with unrestrained laughter.

Oh, what a crying shame it was for that snide coyote and his dim-witted badger friend, locked out of their apartment, stranded... having themselves the very worst of the worst times.

As they put it to me, in such warm, sympathetic tones, maybe someone would come along to offer them a hand...

...But as far I was concerned, grinning wide on my weary way to grab that well-earned drink, find a long-overdue seat, and maybe, crack open a window to hopefully revel in a little more of their misfortune...

I sure as heck hoped not.