BittyBobcat
Llama hand
Peter accepted the money with slight wince. It wasn't that he was guilty. There wasn't a place for guilt when it came to survival, but... well, he didn't want to think to hard about it. Besides, this was for the best. She'd be safer this way. They'd all be safer this way.
He swallowed his hesitation. "Thanks." His gaze refused to meet hers. And -because he couldn't squash the flicker of annoyance at her comment- he added, "I'm not pitiful, though."
Harlow made no such protest. He rolled his eyes at her ogling -it didn't take a genius to see the angle she was playing. The wink only cemented in his mind that she'd be practically giving herself up to the noble. As they approached the guild hall -an overly intricate building overtaken by valuable metal artworks that failed to resemble any real object, marble floors that required a ridiculous amount of cleanings, and the sparkly overcomplication that rich folk could never seem to get enough of- he couldn't help but wonder why? Wealth? All the gold in the world wouldn't help her if she was stuck rotting away as a feather farm.
Skies, he was starting to sound like Buzz.
As if the thought summoned them, a masculine leaning voice grumbled from behind him in a tone that suggested that they had just caught a kid with his hands in a cookie jar. "Don't tell me your scamming a noble's daughter, Pip."
Peter jolted and scrambled to face them. "Buzz!" He yelped. "Long time, no see!" A grin, too broad to be the product of anything but nervousness, slipped onto his face.
They loomed over him. In their hand, they held a wickedly sharp spear that wasn't nearly as threatening as the jet-black stinger that hid behind it on their wrist. They had never used it on him, but Peter kept a watch on it nonetheless. He took in their stance with a careful thoroughness. Ash smeared armor, they'd been at the fire. Not favoring a hand or leg, seemingly unharmed. Scowl and eyebrow raise, a permanent fixture in Buzz's 'mad and disappointed' face.
He was so busy analyzing that he was startled when they spoke. "I had to drag you out of the guild hall just last week. I still-" Buzz's eyes flickered to Peter's back, then to his two companions. "What happened to your wings?"
"Short time, no see?" Pete blurted, grasping for a quick lie. "And I promise, no scams this time! Y'see, I've got a message to deliver in there and one of the guilds miiiiight just have a hit out on me cause a' last week, but if I don't deliver it then that's also gonna be... very not good for my ah- continued life." He allowed an anxious laugh to escape him, playing off of his previous nerves. "But they're just looking for a kid with swift wings, and I thought being the only one with my wings covered would get noticed, so I made some friends and... yeah." His hands spread in a vague gesture at the two phoenixes, letting Buzz fill in the blanks for themself.
They and pinched the bridge of their nose between their thumb and forefinger. "Fuck- well, I can't-"
"I don't need help," Peter interrupted, already regretting his lie. The last thing he needed was to stick near the guild hall. "I'll be fine."
Buzz sighed, casting a wary glance over the boy. "I'll be at the entrance if you need me."
Peter resisted the urge to curse. If he left for the ship now, Buzz would be suspicious. And... well, the less people who got tangled up in this, the better. He'd just have to sneak away once they got in.
~~~
Gray answered the woman's question with a muted nod. Talking while another hunter was on their tail, he thought, probably wasn't the best idea.
His head still spun, but he stepped away from the beam he'd been steadying himself with anyway. Not even bothering to glance in the direction of the footsteps, he placed a hand on her uninjured shoulder to keep his balance and half-lead, half-stumbled toward the exit. They emerged onto the docks level, where Gray was forced to squint against the glaringly bright sun (whether it stung because of his previous few minutes spent in darkness or because of the concussion, Gray had no idea, and at this point didn't much care) . With support from leaning on the woman (which, as much as he would've preferred to avoid -physical contact with strangers wasn't something Gray was a fan of- he put up with for the sake of walking more than three feet without falling over), he managed to snake through the crowds until he could see The Damsel.
Despite the danger he was still in, Gray couldn't help a sigh of relief at the sight of the ship. It was an old model that had a few odd patches of wood scattered across it's hull where shoddy replacements had been made and various riggings of ropes hanging off the sails that an experienced sailor would cringe at the sight of, but it had served as his home for many years -and a good one, at that. Just looking at it was enough to put his mind at ease.
The illusion of safety dissolved the instant the lockdown bell went off.
"Dammit," Gray hissed under his breath.
Panic driving his movements and a fog still hovering over his thoughts, he stumbled away from the bee-eater's side and onto The Damsel's deck. He scarcely took in his surroundings, only noticing that there were guards on the ship when it clicked that the blobs of white he was seeing was armor. They swayed- no, he was swaying. If they were saying anything, he couldn't hear it through the ringing in his ears.
Gray realized too late what was happening, giving him only enough warning to say, "Fuck."
And then everything went black.
He swallowed his hesitation. "Thanks." His gaze refused to meet hers. And -because he couldn't squash the flicker of annoyance at her comment- he added, "I'm not pitiful, though."
Harlow made no such protest. He rolled his eyes at her ogling -it didn't take a genius to see the angle she was playing. The wink only cemented in his mind that she'd be practically giving herself up to the noble. As they approached the guild hall -an overly intricate building overtaken by valuable metal artworks that failed to resemble any real object, marble floors that required a ridiculous amount of cleanings, and the sparkly overcomplication that rich folk could never seem to get enough of- he couldn't help but wonder why? Wealth? All the gold in the world wouldn't help her if she was stuck rotting away as a feather farm.
Skies, he was starting to sound like Buzz.
As if the thought summoned them, a masculine leaning voice grumbled from behind him in a tone that suggested that they had just caught a kid with his hands in a cookie jar. "Don't tell me your scamming a noble's daughter, Pip."
Peter jolted and scrambled to face them. "Buzz!" He yelped. "Long time, no see!" A grin, too broad to be the product of anything but nervousness, slipped onto his face.
They loomed over him. In their hand, they held a wickedly sharp spear that wasn't nearly as threatening as the jet-black stinger that hid behind it on their wrist. They had never used it on him, but Peter kept a watch on it nonetheless. He took in their stance with a careful thoroughness. Ash smeared armor, they'd been at the fire. Not favoring a hand or leg, seemingly unharmed. Scowl and eyebrow raise, a permanent fixture in Buzz's 'mad and disappointed' face.
He was so busy analyzing that he was startled when they spoke. "I had to drag you out of the guild hall just last week. I still-" Buzz's eyes flickered to Peter's back, then to his two companions. "What happened to your wings?"
"Short time, no see?" Pete blurted, grasping for a quick lie. "And I promise, no scams this time! Y'see, I've got a message to deliver in there and one of the guilds miiiiight just have a hit out on me cause a' last week, but if I don't deliver it then that's also gonna be... very not good for my ah- continued life." He allowed an anxious laugh to escape him, playing off of his previous nerves. "But they're just looking for a kid with swift wings, and I thought being the only one with my wings covered would get noticed, so I made some friends and... yeah." His hands spread in a vague gesture at the two phoenixes, letting Buzz fill in the blanks for themself.
They and pinched the bridge of their nose between their thumb and forefinger. "Fuck- well, I can't-"
"I don't need help," Peter interrupted, already regretting his lie. The last thing he needed was to stick near the guild hall. "I'll be fine."
Buzz sighed, casting a wary glance over the boy. "I'll be at the entrance if you need me."
Peter resisted the urge to curse. If he left for the ship now, Buzz would be suspicious. And... well, the less people who got tangled up in this, the better. He'd just have to sneak away once they got in.
~~~
Gray answered the woman's question with a muted nod. Talking while another hunter was on their tail, he thought, probably wasn't the best idea.
His head still spun, but he stepped away from the beam he'd been steadying himself with anyway. Not even bothering to glance in the direction of the footsteps, he placed a hand on her uninjured shoulder to keep his balance and half-lead, half-stumbled toward the exit. They emerged onto the docks level, where Gray was forced to squint against the glaringly bright sun (whether it stung because of his previous few minutes spent in darkness or because of the concussion, Gray had no idea, and at this point didn't much care) . With support from leaning on the woman (which, as much as he would've preferred to avoid -physical contact with strangers wasn't something Gray was a fan of- he put up with for the sake of walking more than three feet without falling over), he managed to snake through the crowds until he could see The Damsel.
Despite the danger he was still in, Gray couldn't help a sigh of relief at the sight of the ship. It was an old model that had a few odd patches of wood scattered across it's hull where shoddy replacements had been made and various riggings of ropes hanging off the sails that an experienced sailor would cringe at the sight of, but it had served as his home for many years -and a good one, at that. Just looking at it was enough to put his mind at ease.
The illusion of safety dissolved the instant the lockdown bell went off.
"Dammit," Gray hissed under his breath.
Panic driving his movements and a fog still hovering over his thoughts, he stumbled away from the bee-eater's side and onto The Damsel's deck. He scarcely took in his surroundings, only noticing that there were guards on the ship when it clicked that the blobs of white he was seeing was armor. They swayed- no, he was swaying. If they were saying anything, he couldn't hear it through the ringing in his ears.
Gray realized too late what was happening, giving him only enough warning to say, "Fuck."
And then everything went black.