"Easy now... Let's not get too violent. I'm sure no one wants this to get bloody," the human says as he slowly backs up to the edge of the rock. Smirking at his failure to pay attention, I wait for it to catch up with him. I rush up the moment he slips and falls. My footpads hit the elevating rock, he's still scrambling about. Witlessly panicking. I pull the trigger, ending his embarrassing moment.
Snorting my contempt, I keep my musket trained. Steadily reloading it as I do so. The tranquillizer makes its effect known and I lower my gun. Hopping down, I mindfully approach. He's out cold, but I still make a point of jabbing him with the barrel of my weapon. Fully content with my work, I sling it over my shoulder.
He's certainly not going to be making any abrupt movements now. The land of dreams and nightmares has his attention in its entirety. Reaching for my belt, I unhook what I need to finish this tedious task. Putting him into the capture-sack is probably the worst part of this entire ordeal.
My fingers flex awkwardly as the sack's lubricant rubs off on them. I am glad I pulled my hood down earlier. There's not much about, but it's nice to feel even the slightest of breezes go down through my spines. Especially without bits of gunk trapped in between them because I decided to idiotically touch up there with slimy hands. Shivering regardless at the sensation, I move the unconscious human into the capture-sack.
The lubricant works through my fur, settling on my numbing, movement-clunky digits.
More lightning strikes. I look up and assess the danger in the sky, finishing up with my task in the meantime. It's different to magic normally with how focused it is. How divine it is.
But it still laces the air with its power, and I am not keen on the idea of building up an attractive charge. Though, I am more concerned with maybe having to admit that my beautiful, well-tended spines are an issue. I hate the idea of just thinking about Paps' unsolicited remark. Let alone actually going there to hear it.
"Tch." I let out at my thoughts of Paps as I prepare to drag the bland human back to the deal site. Waving back at the thunderous mountain, I make my way across the dusty gravel. I have to go across all of this again... Why couldn't these incompetent, nearly blank humans keep an eye on their stock?
This isn't the first time someone has wandered off a little during our transactions!
Reaching one of the wagons, I grumble louder and louder to the point of clarity, "Cuff them in future!"
Sneering at the bagged human, I grab the bag's ropes and pull. They're tight alright. Testing the amount of force I might need to swing them into the air, I scoff. I throw him over in a wide arc and slam him onto the wagon. I dearly pray he wakes up with a bit of an ache later.
Flexing my paws as the effort leaves them, I walk away. Doing my best with what I have on hand, I barely manage an effort to clean my paws. Probably going to need a cleaning cloth or something. Too much risk treating this like a fatty poultry wing from dinner.
"Heiya, here." Paps orders when he spots me. Steeling myself, I approach him and my head moves in line with his sudden smack. Muttering, I curse him without opening my mouth as my cheek stings. He claims it is a well-meaning discipline half the time, but I'm willing to bet my lowest-hanging spine that he's full of it... I'll ram him right full of it!
"And with him, I believe that is all of them." Iishar claims as one of her primitive vehicles reverses towards us. I try to enjoy the irony of the moment by looking back at what we have. Oh, what Iishar and her corrupt folk would think if they saw what the Acadamites have. My eyes shift and watch Paps take a couple steps forward.
He motions for our crew to help out Iishar's guard so we can get the last of our promised goods. More and more of our men slip away, taking over the handling of Iishar's main prize. However, the heat emanating from the silo-like device holding it is causing troubles regardless of who works near. It's an uncomfortable sight, even with the device makers giving us their seal of approval.
But, I have my doubts. Seeing all that simmering, wavy heat. I can even feel it this far. And the soft, cherry glow of the device...
If there are issues with it, I pray to all the gods and goddesses that it fails and breaks down far away from me and Paps. We got paid a tremendous fortune for shipping that rare, hard-to-get product and I don't want to lose out on spending it. Though, I still find it amusing that most of our money comes from trading literal rubbish to these nearly blank humans. Our main contractor happens to have lots of useful waste byproducts and these lot think it's premium!
"Mmm, thaaat ane wauld maaake the deaaal dane." I comment quietly, catching a glance of the tablet Paps is documenting the deal with. Outside of my little trek, the deal is going smoothly. Can't ask for much more, really. Just have to make a slight detour for the out-of-line oxfuine so we can put her in beaten shape. Though, why this is our problem, I struggle to understand.
"Move soon, Heiya." Paps tells me and he taps my arm. Giving him a quick gesture, I go to the forward wagon and climb aboard. I snatch up the enchanted cloth hanging from the handlebar and try to wipe my hands clean. These sapphire-coloured threads are a dream come true and I can finally get this dust-covered gunk off of my paws. I hope the returning feel of my digits means returning motor control, too.
The problem on its way out, I flick my hands dry and feel the fur by my paw pads. Happy with it, I put the cloth back and lean back into my seat, swinging my musket onto my lap as I do so. Adjusting and fiddling with it, I take off the custom hunter module and slot back in its usual bullet chamber. With a smooth rattle, I slide my scope back on. My breath steams up the glass and I... Spotting Paps' ammo container, I kick it.
"Dumb wasps." I remark at the trapped, dangerous insects. The thin metal walls singing with their angry buzz.
"When can I expect the next deal to occur?" I hear Iishar ask as gravel moves about on my right.
"No deal." Paps tells the human.
"What do you mean!? I have consistently met the deadline and paid more this time to get a far grander prize!" the flabbergasted woman lets out as Paps reaches the wagon.
"Too much going on. No more deal." Paps barely explains as he pulls himself up next to me. Looking back, I watch as the frustrated woman aggressively scribbles something out. Rolling my eyes, I sit back down and get back to my business. It's not like something bad is going to happen to her if we fail to keep this up in the relative future.
But, Paps is being honest about why we can't do much more work for now after this. The silo has a fire wyvern inside of it. He's a rare find, the crowning jewel of its harem-mistresses' namesake. Not to mention the great, ongoing war. The dozens of mountain-states we have to go by or through and other wildlife concerns... We have enough as is.
A pissed-off wyvern and its on-a-warpath harem is surprisingly the tipping point for our willingness to put up with danger.
Frankly, I don't think either of us is in the mood to be chased across the Redstone Canyon again and again for a bit of pay. We're safe at the moment and we can count on it staying this way for the moment. But, with our time at the exchange site at an end, I give a hidden, sarcastic wave and return to handling my gun. We lack entertainment of any kind and the landscape is flat, barren and mostly uneventful.
Maintenance will have to do, or maybe even tablet work, if I get particularly bored...
Like with my gun, doing it has its benefits and we will only walk away from this with an easier life. Where my musket will fire true and powerful when looked after, the next part of the deal will go smoother because I did the tabletwork. Silencing our pedantic contractor will only bring good things for my mental health once we get there. So, every detail that I can null and void now makes it all the better later...
But it's also boring, just like everything else around here.
Sighing, I linger my gaze on the mamuler as Paps tugs on the reins containing the massive beast. It groans and slowly starts to move along the gravel with repetitive, heavy crunches. Wide, circular feet go stomp, stomp, stomp. Sometimes I wish these four-legged beasts of burden would be quicker... But endurance is better for these long trips and these things have it by the meaty slabful.
They're generally tame and obedient as well, so that's something, I suppose.
Would be an utter mess if such muscle-bound bulk and tusks weren't. Sighing again, I reach for one of the tablets, "Gaaah, gat ta facus an this taaabletwark..."