In a panic, Thundar scrambled to get ready for his date.

“Shit, shit, why the hell didn’t I listen to Alex?” The minotaur cursed, running a stiff comb through his fur. He checked his teeth in the mirror, making sure they were sparkling white, and didn’t have any bits of food between them. “Who the hell was the idiot who said ‘date planning, date schmanning’? By my ancestors I’d like to punch that guy in his big, stupid snout. I really do got the brains of a damned cow!”

Throwing the comb down, he snatched up a rough cloth from his small dresser and began buffing his horns. Laying on his bed was a fine set of clothing trimmed with the furs of griffons: a gift from Alex to congratulate him on his date.

A new belt—complete with a golden dragon buckle—was a gift from Khalik, while the silver-hilted, ornamental dagger had come from isolde.

Sometimes, having rich friends had its own perks.

“Of course, that won’t help me if she wants to come back and see my place!” He grumbled, glancing around his dorm room. “Nothing says ‘hey, I’m not actually an adult’ than bringing a girl back to a damned dorm room.”

Checking his horns for the hundredth time, he slid on two bronze horn-caps, and got dressed, smoothing his new outfit.

“Alright, Thundar.” He belted on his coin-purse, looking himself over in the mirror, then with a deep breath, slid into the cleansing movements, focusing on his body, the present moment, the flow of his energy, his mana, his breath and the beating of his own heart. “Calm down. You’ve been fighting monsters and you’re literally going down to the hells. You can do this. She’s gonna be perfect, all you gotta do is go pick her up and not make a complete ass of yourself.”

The minotaur cleared his throat, straightening his hair another time.

“Alright, big man, knock ‘em dead.”

With that final declaration, Thundar whipped open his door, stepped into the hallway and locking it behind him, made his way toward the city.

He hoped his nerves would calm with time.

Thundar’s nerves were wreaking such havoc in him, that he came close to stopping at the top of Kohana’s street to be violently ill. The minotaur loudly sucked in breath after breath, trying to calm his belly while folk stared at him as he went by.

There was even a youngster pointing at him from the window of a carriage pulled by enormous terror birds.

“Mommy!” The little boy cried, “Why does that man look like Uncle Luigi when he gets home at night?”

“Don’t look! Come away from the window!” A woman slammed the carriage curtain shut and the child disappeared.

“Well,” Thundar took a deep breath. “That does a lot for a fella’s confidence, jeez.”

Steadying himself, the minotaur journeyed down a cul-de-sac, admiring tastefully painted townhomes lining the street. In the courtyards of quite a few of them, young wizards soaked in the warm day, lounging in wrought iron chairs, either lingering over healthy-looking lunches, or with their noses buried in textbooks.

They glanced at him curiously when he abruptly stopped before an emerald green townhome.

“Yep, student rentals…number four…” He mused. “This has to be the place.”

Kohana’s house was very well-kept, with a small herb and vegetable garden cultivated on the front porch. It lacked the wondrous, unique plants of the university’s botanical gardens, but whoever cared for it, obviously tended the earth with plenty of their time and energy.

“I wonder if it’s hers,” he murmured, his hooves clopping up the walkway to the front door. Butterflies rose in his belly. “Well, maybe I’ve already learned something about her. Alright, Thundar, try to remember everything Khalik and Alex told you about their magic gardening course.”

As the minotaur sifted through Khalik’s complaints about the early morning time slot for Salinger’s botany course—searching his memory for anything useful he could talk about—he stepped onto the porch, glancing down beside a nearby planter bursting with ripe tomatoes ready for picking.

And, that was when he saw the bilogar with its tawny spotted fur, long snout and stumpy tail.

Which was his first clue that something might be very, very wrong.

“What the…” he murmured.

At the sound of his voice, the animal slowly raised its head from the porch floor, looking up at him with sad eyes. Thundar was no expert on bilogars, but—if he were forced to guess—he’d wager that the one looking up at him came from a racing or hunting breed.

Though, he doubted that this sad looking creature would have the energy to race or catch anything faster than a rock stuck in a mud puddle. It was rail-thin, not in that energetic way of wolves and other hunters, but in more of a sickly, malnourished way, as though its last good meal had been sometime shortly after birth.

What was even stranger, though, was that—in other ways—it looked pampered, with newly brushed, unmatted fur, white teeth, and a silk cloak adorned with crystals secured around its neck and fastened with a matching bow tie.

Frowning, Thundar knocked on Kohana’s door.

“Maybe, uh…maybe it's been sick,” he said softly.

His heart jumped when he heard the quick padding of feet coming toward the door, then his date swung it open, seemingly flustered as she pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose.

“Hi, Thundar! I’m glad you could make it! Come in, come in, I’m almost ready!”

“Um, you look great already,” he said, admiring the bright silk dress that hugged her limber form.

Her very limber form, which Thundar watched appreciatively as her tails wiggled behind her.

Then, a smell hit him.

A sour, acrid odour that pervaded the otherwise clean-looking house.

He choked back the urge to gag.

“Did you have any trouble getting here?” She asked as she slipped on a hair tie.

“Uh, no, I—” He muttered, holding back bile threatening to rush up his throat. He swallowed hard, “—it uh…it was fine.”

“Good!” She flashed him a brilliant, white smile. “Before we go, you should take a good whiff of my acidweed.”

“Acid…weed?” Thundar asked.

“Oh yes, I have it growing all over the house,” she said proudly. “Flowers and other plants release awful pollens that clog your aura. Acidweed cleans it away. Go on. Take a good, deep breath. It’ll help balance your aura.”

“Oooookay?” He said through a forced smile, taking a good long whiff.

Under the circumstances, Thundar performed a feat of will only akin to anything the gods could do; he didn’t throw up right there on her front entrance mat: the smell was something found in nightmares, fermented vinegar, mixed with rotten goose eggs, dung, and alchemical accidents.

“There we go.” She patted his cheek. “Good and balanced. Now, I just have to feed Puppy, then we’ll be ready to go.”

“Oh yeah, I saw your puppy out there,” Thundar said excitedly, grateful for the chance to change the subject to anything but acidweed. “What’s his name…or her name?”

“Oh he’s a he,” she said. “And his name is Puppy.”

“Oh, his name’s Puppy, okay and—Wait, his name’s Puppy?”

“I think it’s cute,” she giggled. “I had two cats named Big Kitty and Little Kitty, but friends of mine adopted them. They’re good names, and they don’t obfuscate my pets’ true selves. Oh, could you hold Puppy’s lunch?”

“Yeah, sure I…I…” he stared down in shock at the contents of a steel bowl full of kale and broccoli that Kohana was handing him. “Huh. These. These are vegetables.”

“I know, it’s delightful, isn’t it?” She led Thundar back onto the porch, and he noticed her fluffy tails rubbing against his calf. “Both Puppy and I are vegan.”

An internal scream ripped through his mind, managing to overcome his tail fascination. “Wha—your bilogar’s vegan?”

“Oh yes, and he’s much happier for it.” She leaned down, patting the predator’s head. “Aren’t you, Puppy?”

Puppy’s miserable eyes fell on the bowl of greens, then looked at the road longingly, as though wanting nothing more than to run down the street and disappear into a butcher shop.

Thundar was starting to feel the same way.

“You shouldn’t do that, you know.” Kohana frowned over her spectacles, her knife slicing into a steamed yam.

“Hm?” Thundar finished sipping his iced water. “Do what?”

“Drink that?” She nodded to the water glass. “I don’t drink water anymore, it’s bad for you.”

The minotaur placed the water glass down beside his platter of lamb gyro, his hand was shaking badly. “Drinking water…is bad for you?”

“Oh yes,” she giggled, her tails wagging behind her in her seat. “It’s a pretty common misconception that we actually need water.”

He stared at her openly. “Um, look I’m no expert on blood magic and…health and stuff, but…don’t we die of thirst pretty fast if we don’t drink water?”

“As long as you’re eating a healthy plant filled diet, you don’t need water.” She shook her head, pushing up her spectacles. “All it does is bloat your belly and interfere with the sun’s energy as it transfers into your body.”

“First, uh, first I ever heard of that.” Thundar said with growing horror.

Around the restaurant—the same one they’d taken Alex to for his birthday— patrons within earshot were craning their necks, looking on as Kohana loudly spun grander and grander tales, increasingly divorced from reality.

Even the waiters were starting to throw Thundar sympathetic looks.

‘C-come on, man, don’t judge!’ The minotaur told himself. ‘You’re in a city full of all kinds of weird shit and weirdos. Maybe…maybe she’s just…maybe she’s making a bunch of jokes or something! Yeah, that’s gotta be it!’

Thundar forced a laugh. “Man, that water thing got me good—”

She frowned over her glasses. “It’s not funny, Thundar, water will kill the sun’s energy coursing through you. Which can kill you! It’s no laughing matter.”

His laughter—and a good part of his hope—died in that moment.

“Um, er,” he desperately tried changing the subject. “So uh…what made you decide to teach the cleaning movements? I mean, it’s pretty incredible stuff, and it takes a lot of your time, I’m sure.”

“Mm!” She made a muffled sound as she swallowed a piece of yam. “I want to teach people how to centre themselves in the world. They can get so caught up by all the city’s sights and sounds, that they can easily lose track of who they are and what they’re doing in the present moment. In my first year, I was a complete nervous wreck.” Her tails waggled. “My tail was even losing its fur.”

“Ah yeah, that sounds rough. I was nervous in first year too…wait, your tail?” He craned his neck, glancing at the pair of tails behind her.

“My race grows more tails as we age and we become more powerful in our innate magics.” Kohana ate her last piece of yam. “Centreing ourselves in our own energies is a way to grow our power.”

“Right…” Thundar nodded, reaching for his water glass, then pausing. After a moment, he picked it up anyway, despite her slight frown of disapproval. “So you found they helped you and that’s why you want to teach others. That’s noble.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, batting her eyelashes.

Which did things to him.

“You’re noble yourself, Thundar,” she said. “A brave warrior who stands out in the Games and is a rising star in the university. Yet, you never miss my classes. Why is that?” She asked slyly.

And for that, he gave an honest answer. “Because it helps centre me, keeps me balanced and focused. It’s actually not completely different from some of our elders’ teachings back home. Since it works well, I keep doing it. Simple as that.”

She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “You know, I respect you for that. When I was learning, it felt like half the people in the class came to ogle our instructor. She was very fit. It’s nice to know you’re taking an actual interest in the cleansing movements.”

Thundar chuckled, taking a bite of his gyro to another slight frown of disapproval. “Way I see it, life’s too short and too risky to bother with going to a class just to ogle the instructor. Don’t get me wrong, your movements are like water and your tails are something else, but I wouldn’t just show up for the view if I didn’t actually enjoy the cleansing movements. That’d be a waste of your time and mine.”

She giggled. “Charming. I’m glad you take such an interest in it. It was through that and my dietary changes that I reached new pinnacles of power and oneness with my own self. It’s important to me to pass that on to others…and I’m glad you’re such a fine pupil.”

He smiled.

‘You know, maybe this ain’t so bad. Yeah, she’s a little weird but maybe she just has some wrong ideas,’ he thought. ‘I mean, I ain’t perfect either, and she is super, super hot and doesn’t exactly seem like a bad person. Maybe, I can help out a bit. Maybe have Theresa teach her about why some animals need meat to survive—’

“It’s also why I want to fix you.”

“What?” His mind froze.

“Well, you’re such a good pupil, but…you have a few bad habits.” She pushed up her spectacles again.

“...like?”

“Well, all that meat eating is ruining your aura, and I think a good acidweed bath would clean your pores,” she said, matter of factly. “Then there’s all that water drinking. We’ve got to stop you from doing that!”

“Uuuuuhh…” he said. “I dunno if that’s a great idea—”

“Then we can begin sun-staring together.”

“What the hells is that?”

“It’s when you stare at the sun for an hour,” she said, pushing up her spectacles once more. “By lowering your internal water and letting the sun’s rays strike your eyes directly, you can take full advantage of its power. A lot of people say that it’s bad for the eyes—and it does sting—but they’re all babies, and don’t have the will or perseverance to stick with it so they get the proper health benefits.”

“Uuuuuhuh.” Thundar stared at her face. “Say…just, a random question, Kohana.”

“Sure! Ask me anything! I’m always ready to teach.”

“Have you…always worn spectacles?” he asked.

“Well, no actually,” she chuckled ruefully. “I started needing them in my second year. Maybe reading too many books was bad for my eyes!”

“Uhuuuh, yeah maybe that was it,” Thundar glanced out the window. “Anyway, since you’re done eating, why don’t we get our bills and call it an evening. I wouldn’t want to take up your whole day, after all.”

“I suppose it is getting late,” she said. “It’s almost mooning hour. Oh, and in case you were wondering, that’s when you take in the moon’s energies from the otherside by lying on your stomach and pointing your rear toward—”

“Oh yeah, yeah, I uh…I get it!” Thundar’s laugh was shrill. Bordering on panicked. “Better let you get to that, then. Wouldn’t want to do dessert, either. Might uh…mess up your aura.”

Her eyes seemed to sparkle. “You get it! You truly get it!”

“Well, I got a lot of things, today,” Thundar said. “A lot of things. Anyway, let’s get you home so you can…do your mooning.”

Thundar, son of Gulfbiff, tried to be honourable in many things.

As such, he honourably dropped his date back home and bade her a good night.

And after that?

He gave her bilogar a nod of sympathy and then honourably fled for his life.