The events of the 25th of Granite, 1064
Carrying buckets of feed, Jools stepped inside his newly-completed animal sanctuary, whistling a jaunty tune. The pains of the Zefonists had been momentarily put aside, the hardships of the Dwarven lives forgotten as he began to purchase the stray animals around the fort, saving them from the slaughter. The others, though skeptical at first, soon began to take tours of the area, watching the cattle as they lazed in their pen, the horses frolick and buck, and the Jaguar, purchased so long ago, stalked the pit in the top left watching the onlookers hungrily.
Stepping up onto a small stool, Jool's leaned over the grate and hung up one of the buckets for the cows, calling them by the names Dojango gave them. "Cerol, Edzul, come now! Dinner time! Din-din-din-dinner time."
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and glancing to his right, caught sight of Ex-Mayor Likot standing at attention outside the Jaguar's cage. The animal sat across the pit on it's haunches, staring back at her green goggles with it's yellow unblinking eyes. His voice catching in his throat, Jools got willed the nerve to raise a hand and give a small wave. "Miss... Ropetunnel? Is everything alright?"
"This was my jaguar, you know. You have it locked in this pen."
Jools stifled a moan of dismay. "We- I know, ma'am. After you..." He paused, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. He hoped it wouldn't be a faux pas, and quickly pressed on, "After you died, this graceful animal was left alone in your room. When he was remembered, we found him almost completely starved. It's...gained a lot of weight since we brought it here, it's healthier now. We're hoping the Elves will bring him a mate in the future."
"This animal guarded my room for years. It preformed it's duty ably. I'm ... glad to see it taken care of."
Jools exhaled hard as he stepped down from his stool. He walked over to the jaguars' cage, standing beside Likot in silence for a few minutes. Eventually, he turned to look at her mask-covered face, asking, "Did you ever name it?"
"No. Names come from service, not from the whims of Dwarves."
"But he served you so well. He can't go unnamed forever. Would you... like to name him?"
"...Yes. I believe I would. I will think on it."
They stood in silence once more, watching the graceful animal watch them from behind the safety of the bars. Without warning Likot stood up a bit straighter, her face raised towards the sun.
"What is it, Miss Ropetunnel?"
"There has been a death."
***
Down in the barracks, Merkil was stripping the armor off of Erush Claspfancies. She had collapsed during training, he face pale - though that was nothing new. She had looked bad for months now, a slow string of black curling up from the stump of her arm and along the veins.
"Get water! Hurry, water!" he bellowed, tossing aside the sections of steel plate. Without the plate on, they could see she was still breathing, but it was shallow and infrequent. As others gathered around her, distracted from their jobs, Merkil sat back on his haunches, his face grim.
"How many of you are trained in health care?"
Every dwarf in the room raised their hand. Merkil's frown deepened, "How many of you are trained to do more than shove water and food down a patients throat?"
Every hand dropped, except for a butcher near the front. "Get out of here! Give her room, and peace!" He screamed at the startled onlookers. They quickly fled from his anger, leaving him in the barracks with the one-armed guard. He held her until she died, and carried her down to the crypts himself.