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“Good morning, Maester Felix.”

The huge figure being addressed paused, slowed his waddling gait, and raised his walking stick in a gesture of acknowledgement to the old fisherman sitting amongst a pile of torn nets. Master Felix was a gentleman first and foremost, and while the rotund scholar had important things to do and important places to be, that was no reason to be impolite to the elderly waterman. Felix’s window of opportunity was closing fast, however, so time was still of the essence.

“Ah, yes, Peyton. I trust that those nets will be strong enough to ensure a fine range of cod for the afternoon tea?” the Maester joked, knowing that if Saltmarsh had an overabundance of anything, it was fish. Felix continued his shuffling path down the street, but slowly, as to not appear rude, and to perhaps suggest to the net-repairing fisherman that he did not have much time today for idle chit-chat.

Peyton laughed a little and turned toward the Maester. “Aye, ye’ll not hav’ta worry about that, Maester. There’ll be more’n nuff to keep yer plate piled high for the dinner meal, no worries on that, ser.”

Felix gave the old man a broad smile and a nod, and increased his speed a little, “I”m sure they will, Peyton. I don’t mean to be rude, however, but I’m afraid my time is short and my destination still some ways off. You’ll excuse me if I ask that we can continue this discussion sometime later?”

The weathered old seaman looked confused for a moment -- there was seldom anything in this sleepy maritime village that warranted rushing -- but as he looked at the length of the shadows in the late morning sky, he realized what the emergency was. “Oh, of course, Maester, certainly. Best of luck to ye!”

With a nod of appreciation, the Maester hastened his shuffle. Most tabaxi were thin and lithe, their feline ancestry lending graceful movements and effortless steps. But while Felix shared many of the same cat-like characteristics as his brethren, his stature was where the similarities ended. He easily topped out the scales at a full 35 stone, and his grey-furred muzzle hung open in rasping breaths as he shambled up the rough paved street towards his destination. Speed was definitely not his strong suit. Normally for such a situation, he’d have employed his arcane magics to summon up a conveyance to get him there in time, but he had overestimated the time he had left today, and was sorely unprepared this time around.

There was still time, he thought, still enough time to… no. He simply wasn’t going to make it in time, he realized, his lynx-like facial fur seeming to drop in quiet resignation. Breathing heavily, he paused, and leaned up against a nearby fishbarrow.

No! Wait! There was still a chance! Just down the avenue, he saw a familiar face come out from around a nearby building.

“Ah! Donni, my child! Just the person I need, please, come here... quickly now, quickly!”
The young girl looked up from her dolly, a cloth-and-sawdust-stuffed octopus of some sort, and skipped quickly down to where the massive tabaxi had pulled himself back to his feet.

“Yes, Maester Felix, what can I do for you?” she proudly exclaimed, giving a polite little curtsy as she came up to him. A thin young girl of maybe nine years, she was bright-eyed and full of energy, the front of her shift smudged with dirt from playing in the nearby fields, no doubt. The jog down the path didn’t even wind her in the slightest, Felix noted with an inward smile. Ah, the vigor of youth. To skip down a street without the slightest of exertion!

But time for introspection about the humanoid condition would have to wait. “Donni, my child, I have need of you and your boundless energy! I am afraid I have miscalculated my day’s schedule, and I fear I will not make it to Miss Miggins’ house in time. I am sure you realize what that would entail were I not to arrive before…”

The young girl’s eyes went wide with realization. “Of course, Maester Felix!”

“Good, good.” He looked up at the lengthening shadows. “I am not going to make it in time, so I need you to rush up ahead, quick as a whippet, and get to her before the grisly deed is done. Let her know I am indeed on the way, and not to lose hope!” He pulled out a small change purse from his belt as the young girl nodded enthusiastically.

“Here's tuppence for your trouble, or do you wish the usual arrangement instead?”

“Three penny at the end of the month, if you would, Maester Felix sir!” the young girl smiled broadly.

“Very well, thruppence at the end of the month it is, then,” the grey tabby said as he put the coins he had been fishing out back into the purse. “But I need you to hurry along now, fast as the wind, and let Miss Miggins know I am still on my way, and to not despair! Quick now, off with you!”

True to her word, the young girl took off down the road like a bolt, and was out of sight even before Felix could pull his corpulent frame back up to his feet. Good girl, that Donni. Maester Felix often held a tab at many of the local establishments, and would settle up all his affairs at the end of the month. Little Donni had overheard him doing this one time down at The Snapping Line, and when she was told what he was doing, she said that she could also hold line of credit for Maester Felix, but there’d be a charge for it! Felix would often pay the local children around town to run errands for him, but so far the young girl was the only one who actually seemed to grasp the value of money. Felix often chuckled to her that it was highway robbery, but he also always paid her the extra coppers at the end of the month for the ‘luxury’ of holding a line of credit with her. It was good to reinforce such cleverness, after all. Another fifteen years, and young Donni could be running this village, he thought.

The immediate danger passed, Felix continued his leaden pace up the cobbled streets of Saltmarsh, occasionally waving or nodding to the odd passerby. He truly hoped that little Donni was fast enough, but at this point, it was a done deal -- either she had been fast enough, and the day been saved, or she hadn’t, and the damage was already done. Felix had only been late once before in the several years since he had arrived in this sleepy little fishing village, but the consequences were dire enough then, and he shuddered to think back on them. Only his stout constitution had allowed him to shoulder on under the immense guilt of what his inattentiveness had let come to pass.

But today would not be a repeat, he thought to himself, as he rounded the corner several minutes later, and finally gazed upon the abode of Miss Miggins. A smile crept across his broad face as he recognized the the older woman standing outside the little two-story house, talking to young Donni. The latter was smiling as well, and chewing on a slice of candied citron -- she’d clearly managed to wrangle a bonus payment from Miggins as well as her upcoming thruppence. Clever girl, that one.

“Ah, Maester Felix,” exclaimed the older woman as she saw the sage approach. She held up a modest sackcloth bag with some heft to it. “Donni here arrived for you just in time. A few more minutes, and I would have tossed out all the leftover marzipan.”

Crisis averted.