Mmhmm.

And remembered entirely too much...or too many in this case. The Hundred didn't like the Miradi. Sands didn't like the living. And no one liked Cindersend.

„Saw a guy wrap boilbark round a kid's leg once. Said something about pulling the fever out.“ And if Trevor smiled a little, that could be overlooked. „Wasn't wrong. Smelled like shit, but the kid walked.“ And the kid still had a scar down the shinbone where hair refused to grow. Some days it hurt, others it was just there.

Quiet then. Because that was as much as he cared to remember today.

„What's in Suldaza?“

Hoped it wasn't one of the Annas. That would take forever.
 
Fished the glimmerbit from his pocket. Wasn't much to look at. The already negligeable wealth shaved down further. Luck and time.

Making conversation, huh?

Talkers made him nervous. Kept making noise to cover for something. And he knew, because he was one of 'em.

„Just a coin. Gets the job done.“ Remembered how he used to believe it was his own time being nicked off back when the first one got stubborn. But he was twelve coins deep. Imagined there would one day be a coin to prove him wrong. The final one. Just hoped it wasn't two-hundred-forty-eighth.

„Sometimes people try holding it longer than they should. Never ends well.“ Because the shiny never failed to return. Some people would grasp tightly...but it didn't matter. By wind, cut, or broken fingers – it always made its way back.

„But no need to dwell on sad shit. If you're feeling talky, tell me of your home.“
 
It sounded nice, as Laric described it. But then he'd pushed it too far. No beggars. He'd never seen a place without 'em. Not sure he wanted to. A town with no one wanting more? That wasn't human.

Rain tip tip tapped on his head and Benny's. On the road. On everything.

The offered cloak had caught him unprepared. Why would anyone want to share clothes in this weather? And heroics were nice and all – but covering Trevor's ass only meant Laric's own would get rained on in turn. No – such offers couldn't be trusted.

„You worried I'll melt?“ small bit of laugh to follow, interrupted by the rain he swallowed.

Sure wasn't sugar. Even sweet was a stretch.

Drops were getting heavier.

Their far right saw what may have been a house once – roof caved, but walls still mostly held. Further ahead, trees were getting thicker. Neither were going to do much for them, but they might keep the horses drier.
 
Last edited:
Grumbling made Laric more believable. Couldn't make out a lick of it. Didn't need to. Because rain was meant to make you miserable. To break spirit and get you wet in places you didn't know you had. It was a much better way to live than some noble quests and paying of debts. Trevor'd take sloshed mud and poor visibility over a mission any day. Suppose the delay was lucky, in a way. More time before they had to face the next group. Ones in Havenby had been nice enough – but in his experience, nice couldn't last.

He'd have taken the fucked house. It was always better to have rodents for neighbors. Rodents never moaned when you put 'em out. Didn't have cousins with long memories. People were...messy. Wasn't surprised the nobleboy passed on the appeal of it. Hopes further crushed when the thicket gave birth to a house. The little bit of smoke that struggled on its way up, whispered: occupied.

The goat looked at them carefully. Because it knew – they weren't a good omen.

So he hesitated at the clearing, as someone moved at the window, inside. The door squeaked ajar the tiniest bit.

„Who goes there?“

Sure as shit wasn't gonna be Trevor doing the talking.
 
Trevor was already halfway to tie off his horse, careful to keep the mount between the goat and his legs. Didn't look like it could reach, but you never knew with hornfuckers. One moment was all nice and bleat, the next it was fighting rocks...and winning.

If they wanted to think them buttbuddies, fine. If it got him out of the rain and put some food in him – didn't matter what anyone thought. And rabbit stew did have a ring to it. Delicious little things. Some people seemed to have qualms about eating cute animals, he never understood it. Just like you want your plate to look nice, why wouldn't you want your meat to?

Wondered about the kind of company Laric kept. Didn't seem the type of slum it with a bunch of forestsisters.

„You too fancy for rabbit, Blondie?“ called from the tieoff.

This whole bit looked suspicious. But that was his own problem to deal with – he suspected everyone.
 
„Don't worry Benny, if the goat gets mean, we'll eat it.“ Patted the animal and hoped he did the knot poorly enough to let her kick the goat if it got ideas.

Followed Laric and...Anna into the house. Anna – of course it fucking was. Was starting to look like e real fun joke until they stepped into the demented teaparty inside.

Alright, so she was nuts. Trevor could handle nuts. Didn't have to mean she was dangerous. Some people were just strange. Well, most people were strange to him. But...stranger. He'd been known to keep some odd company – but an eyeless raccoon, a rabbit-that-wasn't, and the fattest fuck this side of Free Cities... that was a bit much. There was something wrong with the big guy's eyes. Whether he was drugged or twonked, Trevor couldn't tell – but he had those empty eyes.

Something was very wrong here.

Nodded politely at the meat comment. He did have a bone to pick with nonmeaters. But Laric didn't look like one of them...so why pass on the food?

„Hello everyone, I'm Trevor.“ Might as well play along. If he got done in by a soggy stuffed rabbit, at least he'd die laughing.

„So how do you two.“ Eyes on Laric, brows up. „Know each other?“
 
His gaze followed Laric's to the soup. That was... Was fucking Thumbelina feeding him people?

Not screaming had been a feat of strength. Held it together just long enough to look back at Laric.

Laric – who didn't eat meat...anymore.

So Anna wasn't to be a harmless nut, after all. They weren't even a full day's ride out of Havenby. And vines, untended, grew out. Wasn't much of a reach. Kids could play there one day. Fuck, some probably already had. And then what? Getting kidtaxed by a strange forestsister?

The wheelcon morons. Their little third wheel. Probably still trying to peg the wheel with that sorry excuse for bread. They didn't deserve it either.

Cannibals didn't stay away forever.

And the man he came with – what did he really know about Laric? Was the blonde fucker...

The roll the other man had given him crumpling in his fist as they talked like all of this was normal. Like he was the insane one.

„I'd like an... explanation.“

Eyes moved between sister and mister. The whole world had gone mad.

„A good one.“
 
Almost cracked down the middle right then.

„People...“ Lifted the thumb out his soup, thoughtless. Fingers burned, but he didn't let go. „They're eating...people.“

Voice barely carried. And that's when the question came: was there any point in letting the sisters live? Some monsters could be reasoned with – Anna wasn't one of them. Not with what he'd seen. A mind like that couldn't be left untethered this close to town.

„How many sisters?“ Because they were not doing this twice.

Was Laric...managing him? Trevor could see the quiet panic in his eyes. Didn't seem to get better when another appeared at the door. If Laric was afraid, or involved, then perhaps it was up to him.

Hoped not.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom