FSE

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~ The polite fundraiser was a slog of patience and observation to Detective Clip, dressed in her finest civilian attire. She nodded politely to a Dean, shook hands with a princess, and nodded agreeably to the wild tales of some CEO. All the while she kept making glances to the beaver in a three button suit who was similarly mingling. For all of her stalking, a fox caught her eyes. The jackalope disengaged from her current listening to slide over towards the fox who was carefully selecting a tiny piece of bread from a larger tray.

~ "Want to know what gave you away?", Detective Clip inquired of the fox once she had completed her task of selection.

~ The fox held her fingers up to her muzzle in mock surprise, "Oh, me? Whatever could you refer to?"

~ Detective Clip pointed up to her own forehead, sliding a finger along the spot where the fox had a scar along her own, "Because Lady Makur does a better job of hiding that scar for formal occasions; you must've met her sometime while she was casually strolling around town, if that's how you think she looks at shindigs like this."

~ The fox regarded Clip for a moment, before her voice became the raspy tone of the kind of fellows who'd lived in the badlands and found enough to tell. His tone was that of a playful teacher, "And that's not enough to know, and I reckon you can't just see straight through me, else I'd have heard of you. Tell me more, young'n."

~ The unconcealed jackalope continued her explanation, "You keep avoiding that beaver who's been about for pick-pocketing. You've got an eye for scofflaws; Lady Makur is far too naive to've known the look of him and kept away this whole night."

~ The older jackalope, still looking like a fox, chuckled darkly. "I've not got anything to share with him. Lessons come in threes, kid."

~ "And you're wearing a luck charm, of some kind. I can't tell where, but that it's an object and I can't see it. So it must be something on your actual outfit.", the Detective glancing up and down Lady Makur's many frilled dress, "You got any weapons I should worry about, under that?"

~ The fox regarded Clip with a toothy grin, "This is all a matter of politics, bun. What says I don't just nudge you out of the way of my work?", the Detective feeling the chill of a revolver's barrel against her arm for a moment, entirely unseen.

~ The younger jackalope's tone became a bit more annoyed, "I suppose this is the pop quiz? We both know the answer."

~ The fox plucked another small bread from the larger tray, his tone still that of a patient teacher, "Recite for me, the First One's Oath."

~ With a muted groan, "Our strength not Might, our Magic Lite. To each and all we depend our Wit; `til She takes you Home, mind your own shit."

~ The fox shrugged, "You didn't get the tempo right; but how can I help? You want the beaver dead, or just skinned?"

~ The detective offered Lady Makur a small wallet that looked to contain matters of value, "I can't get him to nick this tracker from me; could you see that he gets it?"

~ Lady Makur's expression seemed alive with vigor, the scar above her eye adjusted to match Clip's advice, "I would be delighted to assist with your task; please stay out of the way of my listening.", again using the vixen's voice.