Turning the corner, I nearly walk right into someone!
Having felt my near-impact, one turns, it's Shraymeaus, "Oi, oi, oooooooooooo-I!"
Backing away, claws raised slightly, the hunter's group of drunken friends face me. Futhans stumbles out into the open and smiles. His arms fly up and motion for a hug. He clings to me abruptly and seemingly sobs.
"H-Hey! HEY YOU! Why... Why are you so tall...? Why!?" he demands to know, his weak, booze-blooded grip not doing much to shake my person. His friends move to catch him, his leg suddenly giving way. He is back upright and shoving them away. I swear, I can perhaps only whistle and I'll have him on the ground.
"I just am," is all I have to say as the drunken crowd gets rowdy over my silence. Shaking my head, I try to at least derive some amusement from this display. I did choose to come this way, after all. Though, maybe it's not a good idea to be here? I'm already being clung to...
"No!" Futhans moans, collapsing onto my front. His weak fists batter at my chest.
"Tell'a us!" Shraymeaus demands, his back quickly finding itself occupied with riders. His complaints evict him from the conversation and he tries to knock his friends off. The small group treating him like a spectacle.
"Speaaaak! I want to know why my beloved... Why -my- Neeameth will her eyes on you when we go..." Futhans moans and groans, his body falling against me again. I nearly jump in panic as his fingers catch on my bandages and I hoist him up right properly. Though, knowing how sloshed he is, it's easy to let the paranoia slip my mind. Futhans' lungs explode with the sound of a paved road smacking him.
Huffing, I step over the man and head towards an empty bottle on its merry way. Leaning over, I pick the damn thing up and have a closer look at it. Doesn't smell like anything I am used to. The glowing letters and symbols on the bottle's base, however, catch my eye.
Raising a carapace brow, I ponder a single idea. This is a magical bottle? What, what could magic possibly do for alcohol? Make him easier to understand or something? I guess he's been particularly clear...
"We get going?" Futhans asks as he push-ups his way back to his feet. Rolling my eyes, I almost throw him the rest of the way and catch him as he falls. He knocks his fist on me gently and stumbles ahead. Erratically, he searches the street, one devoid of his group.
Guess that means that Shraymeaus, in his attempt to clear his back, had galloped off. Watching Futhans carefully, I shrug my shoulders and get to following him. Now, I wonder, why does a bottle of drink have magic in its glass? Did the police get too tired of translating drunkard one night and make it law that all must be able to speak clearly?
Admittedly, it is a funny thought to have. Would certainly solve a lot of problems back home when the bored are out and about. Hard enough to understand some people as is already. Don't need something else, making it worse.
"Let's go already! I want to see my beloved wife-to-be!" Futhans complains, grabbing my cloak and ineffectually dragging me. A quick laugh leaves me as well as a complaint of my own. Moving myself into a position that won't see him smack his teeth on the curb, I watch the streets. I want to see how alike it is to home. Gods be good to me, some things hopefully never change.
"Hold on, hold on! I'ma coming." I tell Futhans as his efforts pick up. His grip slips and I stride forward to catch him and then hold him steady. He goes back to leading me around like a child with some rope. Or maybe I am more of his pet right now? His yanks are certainly aggressive.
No, that can't be right, it's his nose sniffing out the closest pub!
He turns and smacks my mask, "Do... Do you have any money?"
Blinking at the man up against my right lens, I try to shake my head. He stumbles back, his head carrying on the shake until he stops himself. A headache seemingly having him crippled for a moment. He picks himself up like nothing happened and starts to slap his side with one hand, the other coming to me.
"No. No money. Sorry." I answer, keeping his open palm away from me.
"That's alright... I... We stole my pa's drinking money when he passed out on a bench before I found you!" Futhans laughs and I keep my appalment as nothing more than snickering.
"You left your drunk father alone on a bench and robbed him?" I ask, struggling to contain myself.
"No... I made sure he was safe and went to get an adult! But... Now I need one. Shraymeaus and the others are gone..."
"Why would you need an adult? Aren't you an adul-" I try to entertain myself with and noises roar out of the man.
"Because I can't go outside when it is dark and be on my own! Ma's rules! I can't be doing bad by Ma, I won't," he whistles as he leans against me. Pushing him back to his feet and steadying him again, we get back to walking. I roll my eyes and shake my amused head.
Bang, bang, bang! The containers at Futhans' feet fly away with each kicking step. He's barely stopping himself from tripping and rolling- And he's on the ground.
"You alright?" I ask, heaving him up once again and trying to put some of the containers back. He spits on one of them, kicking it away and hurting his foot in the process. I withhold myself from repeating my question and instead smirk a right delightful expression.
"Me!? You are the one covered in bandages!" the man hisses, holding up his hand with what I want to assume is meant to be an intimidating force. Though, he's not quite steady and true enough for that to really work. He would probably be better off without the shaking legs and unending blinks, too!
"At the rate you're going, you'll be needing them, not me!" I tell him, holding him firm so that I might parent the loveable rascal for the immediate night.
"I'm thirsty..." he says.
"Which way, then? I'd like to get you sat down or something." I ask, the man slipping my grip. But I do not see him run ahead. He's still at my side.
"Hold on... Hold on..." Futhans mutters as he lands on his bottom with a thud. An extensive groan accents my next breath and I pick him up. I bounce him up and down in my grip, ignoring his wheees and squees. His clothes are holding up surprisingly well to my casual manhandling of his person.
"On a seat is where you are going to sit!" I speak mildly loud at him. An 'O' spreads across the man's flexible mouth and he nods silently. Now, as I don't trust him and his clothes are fairly sturdy, I keep him up in the air. Walking ahead with my luggage, the grown man makes childish noises, his tongue mimicking an engine.
Finding my way around the nightlife of the town, I try to find any hints of a pub. Should I be on the lookout for sounds and crowds? Or the smells of drink and vomit? Or do I let Futhans here direct me?
I try to pull him off the stone pillars he's grabbing for whatever reason.
"NO! NO! NO! Here we go!" he declares, unwilling to budge on the subject. Putting him down, the man suddenly latches on wholly. His hips pistoning the worked rocks. I blink.
"I thought you wanted to go into this place?"
"I DO!" he shouts at me, his actions stopping.
"Then quit humping the building!" I let out anyway, the sounds of four legs skidding on a road.
"LADS! I FOUND OUR BOY!" Shraymeaus roars, bottle in hand. Slapping Futhans along, we get out onto the street.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" a crowd of men on the first floor holler. Looking down, I see how the pillar is actually a support for this balcony. Returning my eyes to the previous sight, I get a quick view of someone being pulled back from their overhang. Nearly rained a man, I suppose!
"Hold on... I can do this..." Futhans groans, his ability to climb the pillar already unsalvageable with how bad he is. He fails once. Twice. A third time. A fourth and then a fifth. Shraymeaus doesn't even try to help, he only laughs.
One man above leans down to try and help. He reaches and reaches with the help of his friends. They drop him, laughing the whole way. Staring down at the man rolling off of his head, Futhans finally gives up. My eyes roll in the heaviest manner they can.
Futhans gives it one more go, a groaning drunk now his footstool. His friends reach down for him, but the gap is too great. Filling in for the rest of it, I handle one of my issues for the night. Leaving me with this drunk stranger to deal with, just him.
"I've no clue who you are. But I assume they are your friends. So, back up you go." I moan, picking the man up and slinging him over my back in a clean motion. Somehow, I don't knock him out more than he already is.
"Hard... Hardy... Bed..." the stranger moans, already snoring down my spine. Blinking back the sudden torrent of bad memories, I adjust my grip. I do not know why, I just suddenly started thinking of my time in the hive. Here I am, moving this man about like I was being moved into the hive by my captors.
Putting the man down, I shake my head clear of the thoughts. No, now is not the time to be thinking of that. I should not be thinking of anything like that. No. Not now...
Shaking my head again, I pick the man up for a final time.
"Underarm it is, then..." I mumble, the chitters within my mask sticking with me all the more.