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I drew the hood of my cloak up and over my pointed ears. There was rain on the horizon, and while that might not have been particularly surprising since the twin suns hadn't been seen in almost three decades, it was a welcome departure from the much harsher embrace of snow. You couldn't tell it was coming by the clouds though, like they used to do before, because they never really stopped being grey and daunting. You had to smell it was coming. You had to smell it over the scent of mud and damp fur left behind by yesterday's shower. You had to smell it in the fullness of the air, in the sadness of the people, and in the activity of the market.

Trudging through the haphazard aisles of the bazaar you could tell when a storm approached; the more sensitive species packed their wares early and the howling crowds quieted themselves as people fled for shelter. Paw-pads and hooves beat the ground into treacherous mud pools ready to be whipped into a mess by the oncoming rain. It isn't that rare for some beast to get stuck in it and call for help. They would be helped depending on how severe the weather ended up being, or they wouldn't. Some years the mud-lanes just got that bad, taking more lives than flu or disease certain years.

About the only place that held open its stall during downpours, besides actual establishments, was the mercenary counter. Now, the name might be intimidating but it wasn't all about guns and blood spilt by said guns. One could make good money doing Redeemer jobs for the richer of us.

It started raining. Drops pitter-pattered into a chorus of roars against the buildings and open streets; the day's scents dispersed against the ground and gave way to the smell of naturally clean water. Such a nice smell. I took a moment at inhaled it: snout raised, ears laid back, eyes shut against the drops. They say that scent is the sense most closely connected to memories. It was true, though there wasn't a single memory that I had that didn't contain the dank omnipresence of rain in the ground and on the horizon.

"What're you lookin' for mutt?" the badger behind the metal gridding made a point of placing his palms flat on his side of the counter.

"I'm looking for a Redemption job. Got any left on the board?" he looked me snout to tail and turned dismissively towards the cork board that held active, pending, and completed merc assignments.

"I'ma goin' to assume you're wantin' something relatively close," I nodded to his back stripe," and the only thing we've got right now in our little slice of hell's this," pulling the peg out of the requisition he slid it under the grating for me to look at--

Request: Retrieve golden pocket watch with sapphire inlays from the Pitmedden Old Town.

Proposed location: Apartment #003 of building #1130 from S. Anosmia St.

Reward: 50,000 uC

Request Filer: Pathenon Mencharn

"Whoa, you mean to tell me that the mayor himself is willing to pay this much just to have this old watch?" I knew that Pitmedden was famous for its feral beasts ravaging the ruins of the city, but for that much money it was worth it.

"Look it's not me job to ask why. Do you want the job or not?"

"Yes, yes please,"

"And uh, what's your name lad?" his big furry paw grasped for a tiny pen.

"Rothilion Comparik, sir," He gave me a look that'd melt snow, "that's R. O. T. H..."

I didn't head out until the next morning, and when I did start off on the three mile walk to the Old Town my steps were shaky from the anxiety. Half way there I un-holstered my pistol and attempted to hold it menacingly even though I knew it'd do nothing to repel the vicious beasts that were said to reside around the areas most affected by the wear of war. Stories told of normal animals like us that had lost their minds and returned to feral savagery among the crumbling rubble. Hushed whispers of flowing capes as black as charcoal and of the horned face of a beast so motivated that not even bullets could stop one's advance. I checked the hammer and safety of my gun for the third time before the gate shown its shadow.

A tall tarnished gate stood between two concrete walls, each of which had their share of holes and sections blown out. I walked all the way up to its shadow, a dark thing that laid its length along the entrance. A line in the sand. I breathed deeply and whispered to myself, "Nothing ventured... Nothing gained. "I stepped across the line and through the gate towards the towering abominations of architecture I was forced to call buildings. Rubble and debris was strewn everywhere but if it was due to the destruction caused by the falling of the bombs or the innumerable scavengers that had been through here I didn't know. The few buildings that still stood matched the post-rain sky in its greyness. My paws padded quietly in and out of cold puddles causing vast echoes through the concrete graveyard. 1128, 1129, 1130...

Of course it was going to be the tallest building in the compound. Building number 1130 still had ten floors held up on its foundations unusually, and at one point a nearby tower had fallen into it, sprawling from the side like a drunk on his cane. Basically, it didn't look like it should still be standing much less stable enough to venture into. I found one operable doorway on the opposite side of the massive tower, and when I smashed the lock and swung the metal door open with a massive whine I swear I heard skittering close by. I looked over my shoulder but didn't see anything. I pretended not to hear it again when I closed the door.

The inside of the apartment building was unlike anything I had seen before. A stories tall atrium dome coned up the first few floors coming to a point that used to hang a massive chandelier. The lobby's ceiling was easily ten meters tall alone and towards the top I could see the balconies of various apartments overlook the area in which I stood. Large flying buttresses worked to hold up the building, though many of them looked worryingly deteriorated. I dropped my guard in awe of this monolith to excess. I couldn't even comprehend why someone would waste so much space and resources just to make an entrance pretty. Given all the amazing sites the thing that stood out most of all in that large vaulted entryway was how dry it was. My paws felt soft against the sharp dust that had collected itself on the decorated tile. My damp fur felt a bit scratchy and extremely heavy compared to the lightness in which the air danced around the building. And my lungs felt as though something were missing from the air; I knew moisture was but knowing something and feeling it were two completely different sensations.

And the smell! It was so pure, so undiluted by the torrents and rain showers that it almost seemed unreal. I tipped me snout into the air trying to smell the entire complex in one breath. I wanted to take in the entire being of this place through its sharp and defined odour.

"Get over here Roth, we've got to get ready to go and there must be dawdling," Rothilion took his father's paw.

"But father, why've we got to be moving? Isn't this place nice enough for us to stay?" the little Rot hardly matched his father's tail in size and had to yell amongst the crowd of hustling animals.

Roth could see his dad hesitate before answering, "There are people that are coming. Bad people. And we are going to give them our home so that they'll be nicer to us," he grinned and did his best to force his ears into a perked up position.

"Why can't we share? There's plenty of space?" the child pointed with clutched paw pad up at the massive atrium.

"That's just... Not an option right now."

"I think that when I grow up I'll make sure we won't have to find a new home ever," Roth smiled up to his father who was surprised by the statement. He laughed at his tenacious child.

"That's an excellent goal. But when things seem worst know that..." he kneeled down to be snout to snout with his kid, "your true home is always here," the dad made a motion towards his heart before the memory began to fade and I was left standing in the middle of a lonely atrium alone with my thoughts.

They say that smell is the sense most linked with memories. I'd have to agree because it was nearly a decade ago that I remember leaving this place now, and I remember the smell of dry like it was yesterday. It had been a long time since I'd been in an actually dry place. I sighed and began walking up the wide staircase that seemed to encompass the entire floor. Level 1. I heard the skittering again as I turned the corner at the top of the stair. It sounded terrifyingly similar to claws moving fast over plaster. I squeezed my pistol grip again. I held my knife a ways in front of me. A small sign informed me that Apartments 00-20 were to the right and I obliged. I stepped past the door for the first apartment making sure to keep my gun trained on it the entire time. As I got the corner of the hall and I was forced to turn I leaned my knife blade out first and used the reflection to make sure the coast was clear- Movement.

I couldn't see what it was but I knew two things. There was definitely something in here with me and it was big. I gulped down my sense of dread and turned the corner and followed it to Apartment #003. 003 lay on the interior first floor of the complex so it had a balcony that overlooked the lobby. In fact when I kicked down the door, after many repeated attempts, the fall to wall balcony was the stand out feature.

Three rooms all carpeted. Bedroom, bathroom, and a living room kitchen mix. The balcony took up one entire wall of the living room, instead jutting out with a short concrete railing. A thick shutter could be pulled across to close it off for privacy. After a quick check up of all the rooms I quickly began riffling through the drawers, and shelves, and anywhere else likely to house a pocket watch. I ripped everything apart and even looted a few shiny goodies for myself. I turned to the walls and knocked on them with my claws looking for a hidden compartment or safe. I found nothing. Well, nothing until I decided to check the closet again. I had looked through the pants and shirts and even the pockets of each but I hadn't noticed a top shelf. A top shelf with a strange looking hat on it. A strange looking hat that when pulled down from its perch happened to have a palm sized golden pocket watch in it. A palm sized pocket watch that was exactly what I was looking for. I grinned across my ears and had made my way into the living room before noticing the visitor.

It was on all fours examining the shards of wood left behind on the floor when I broke down the door, and it was easily two meters tall hunched down. Its fur was such a midnight black I couldn't fully comprehend it. It almost seemed like an illusion. The fur was so black it distorted all of the details and features of the figure in a haze. And then it looked up at me.

I had never seen eyes like those. They seemed to be made of malice and hate themselves and it radiated outward at me. Large ears were set into its head like horns and the snout that protruded out at me had its own pair of spikes that jutted up to match the impressively huge fangs that jutted down. I still hadn't moved even though my mind had run through a thousand different possibilities. Not one of those possibilities involved more of them. Two more of them turned and froze in the hallway, looking at me. Three pairs watching my every move. Every breath. Every twitch. My pistol felt horrendously heavy in its holster, and together with my sheathed knife I felt held down in my paw prints, unmoving. Three hostiles and the only exit a multiple-story drop to the lobby. Weapons holstered. Watch in hand. Tick. Tock. Tick. To-

I turned to leap over the couch that rested against the wall towards the balcony while slipping a paw into my thigh mounted holster. The world went silent. Three flashes cast pitch black shadows from the furniture into the room. Three rounds met their target as it lunged, claws first into the apartment. It didn't flinch in the slightest. I took two steps to the balcony but hesitated at the railing. I glanced back quickly to judge how much time I had to make the jump. Four hundred pounds and ten blades slammed me over the edge.

Infinite darkness obscured my vision and intense pain obscured my senses. Its claws scrapped across my snout and face and its other paw dug into left arm. My sense of direction was reduced to nothing as we fell down through four stories of air. I fired two more shots of my revolver just as we came to a sudden, jarring stop.

It felt like forever went by before I looked through squinting eye lids at the atrium ceiling. Hundreds of the black beasts were roosted on balconies and windows. An uncountable number all watching as those closest to the bottom floor raced down stairs and steps to get to me first. The furry pelt underneath me was unmoving. I couldn't see straight, I couldn't hear anything but the ringing of bullets, and I felt like I had been hit by a train, but if I didn't do something now... One shot left and an army to fight. I struggled to my knees before brushing blood from my mouth. The howls and trampling got louder. I looked up at the massive columns that held up this entire complex. The thundering arrived at the top of the main stairs. I raised the barrel towards the thinnest little connection left on the nearest pillar. I could hear the thrashing of teeth. I pulled the trigger and broke the buildings back.

Silently the bullet impacted. Silently it severed the pseudo-stone connection between top and bottom. Silently the entire section connecting the pillar and ceiling came crashing down. Everything shook. The last thing I remember seeing was another support crumbling under the agitation, and I passed out.

Call it luck, call it divine intervention, I survived the collapse of the entire building. You couldn't say the same for any of those feral beast things. Every support column failed. Every floor collapsed upon each other. Tons of rubble laid everywhere, crushed everything, except for the small patch of tile that held me. If it weren't for that bloody beast thing hitting the ground before me I wouldn't've even made the drop let alone something like having a building fall on me.

I scrambled my way out of there as fast as the pain would let me. For a little while on the open road I honestly didn't think I'd make it. When I collapsed a quarter-mile from the outer gates I don't think the doctors there thought I'd make it either. They patched me up well enough... Sadly the reward money ended up not being as much as I expected. I didn't receive as much because the damned time-piece didn't work. I swear it had when I had found it but all the ruckus afterwards must have broken it. That combined with the unexpected medical fees for my broken shoulder blade, replacing the spend ammunition, paying rent on my miserable one room, and buying a bit to eat... It didn't leave much left for the spending spree I had had in mind when I left.

I sat on the concrete step of my house-ish shed admiring my new scars in shallow pools of water. One ran deep right across my snout and two more cut across my cheek down to my jaw. I frowned. They were relatively old, having spent a few weeks in the infirmary, but they still shown an unhealthy red across my subdued brown fur. The fur wouldn't regrow over the gashes, though they'd heal eventually, but that was the last of my worries.

I couldn't smell.

Inhale all I wanted through my nose but my snout just wouldn't, or couldn't, process scents anymore... I traced along the puffy red scar with a claw. I felt in a way naked. A whole sense taken away leaves you... Uncomfortable. I didn't know if it was a physical issue or a mental trauma type thing-

I started at the sudden falling of rain. It had snuck up on me so fast that by the time I got inside and closed the door the window was being barraged by scores of drops. I slumped into a rickety wooden chair. I'd take time to adjust. I'd have time. It was close to nightfall anyway and I wasn't so keen on simply watching the rain. I trudged over to the blankets and mat I called a bed. Home sweet home. I took off my damp robes and slipped underneath the warm comforter. I took a deep breath to fuel a deep sigh and was greeted by none of the familiar smells I'd come to associate with home. A painful twang of despair pulled at my heartstrings. I would just have to create a new home. A home not defined by scent and one not taken away by vicious beasts. I closed my eyes, visually holding on to the memories of the past, tugged my blanket up over my ears, and cried.

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