[center][h1][color=lightgray]PIPER[/color] [color=palegreen]&[/color] [color=mediumseagreen]CHERYL LUSBY[/color][/h1][/center]

[color=lightgray]'[/color][b]-And don’t worry, my little friend, I don’t know exactly what’s spooked you, but stick with me and I won’t let you get hurt. We good?[/b][color=lightgray]'[/color]

[color=lightgray]Piper might like Jack, but he was still a [i]dragon[/i] and no matter his size, he was no hatchling. He sniffed, turning his nose up at Jack as he fetched the coin he'd left on the table.

'[i][b]I appreciate that, but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.[/b][/i]' Despite the statement, he wordlessly accepted Jack's offer of a shoulder ride. Slinking around his neck, Piper stepped onto Jack's right shoulder, then shook himself. He started picking at his canine teeth; there was a splinter of bone wedged somewhere in there. 

At Jack's request, he said nothing. As long as Jack did nothing short of actually harming Cheryl, Piper wasn't interested. Actually, Cheryl might be pissed if he [i]did[/i] do anything to help, so he was better off not doing anything at all. So when Cheryl came into view, exhaustion apparent in every step, his only frustration was the stupid bone wedged in his teeth.[/color]


[color=mediumseagreen]The only reason Cheryl hadn't straight-up punched the prick when turning around was the bundle of white on his shoulders. Her heart thudding, she took a step back, lowering her fists. God, she must really be out of it if she was letting that dancing fool, of all people, to sneak up on her.

'[b]It's-[/b]' was all she managed to say before Stranger shot off a tirade of words towards her. Her expression couldn't decide if it wanted to be annoyed, tired, or disbelief at how much meat the world wanted to fling on her tonight, and ultimately decided to remain unchanged through it all. By the time Stranger finished, her hands were by her side, relaxed. Despite this, she was all too aware of the hilt of her knife brushing against her forearm. She exhaled. Then her gaze shifted towards Piper and she lifted an eyebrow. He stopped picking at his teeth, white pupils darting back at her.

'[/color][color=lightgray][i][b]It's true-[/b][/i][/color][color=mediumseagreen]' he started, then stopped when her eyebrow dropped back down in exasperation. '[/color][color=lightgray][i][b]Oh. Sorry.[/b][/i][/color][color=mediumseagreen]' With a flap of his wings and a push against Jack's shoulder, Piper settled back down on Cheryl's, handing her the unused silver coin before curling himself around the back of her neck. Cheryl returned her gaze to Stranger, stuffing the coin into her pocket as she pondered. Honestly? She had only one conclusion.

'[i]This idiot has no clue what he's doing.[/i]'

Really? Of all the people in the entire village, he decided that a bounty hunter - one who was assigned to bring him in, no less - was the most fit person to help him out? [i]Really?[/i] It was like the universe wanted to stick them together. She was trying to do him a favour by avoiding him, but apparently [i]she[/i] was the ungrateful one here!

'[i]Flaming-[/i]fine[i]. Fine. You want me to bring him in? You got it. He's more than eager to walk himself to your damned doorstep, anyway.[/i]'

She was too flaming tired for any more of this meat. If he was going to keep turning up like a rusty coin, then she might as well guide him or whatever that damned cloaked figure wanted her to do. She'd tried to be nice, tried to distance herself, but sure, let's bother the bounty hunter who'd just gotten framed for a murder she actually [i]didn't[/i] do for once and was going to be executed for after doing the monarchy's damn dirty work for years!

She took a breath.

'[b]You talk too damn much. Learn to summarise.[/b]' She turned away, shoving her hands into her pockets. '[b]And give your daughter some credit. If you want to find her alive, you better stop believing all that alone and scared crap.[/b]'

[i]Derisive cackles. Small, thin, yet precise hands. Hunger. It lay gnawing at her belly, in her eyes, and they could see it, they could all see it, but no help was coming. No help ever came. Surrounded by people, but still by herself. She was alone.

But she wasn't afraid.[/i]

Deep in her pockets, her hands clenched into tight fists, odds and ends rubbing against her skin. Ah yes, the night had already all but gone to hell, why not add in bringing up old memories that had no business revisiting her? She was doing fine, more than fine, she hadn't been, [i]wasn't[/i] like that anymore. Was stronger than that pathetic, skinny twig.

'[i]Flaming idiot. Stop thinking about it.[/i]'

At least Stranger wasn't a shitty dad. He had that going for him. 

She yawned as she set off, her teeth clacking together as her mouth snapped shut. The stables were just up ahead, a little over to the right of the town's southern entrance - a crumbling stone bridge built over the river. Soft rumbles wandered into her right ear. Piper had fallen asleep, snuggled up against her neck. Without looking back, she spoke up. 

'[b]You got a name or do I have to keep calling you Stranger in my head?[/b]'[/color]

[hr]
[h3]𝔒𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰...[/h3]

[color=skyblue]At the edge of a graveyard, a young boy was digging a grave.

He'd been at it for a while, if the depth of the grave was any indication. The cool night air did nothing for the sweat beading at his temple, dripping down the side of his face. Another grunt, another shove, and the cycle of dirt being flung out of the ground continued.

'[b]Well, you've been working hard.[/b]' The boy paused, the end of his shovel scraping harshly against the dirt. He looked up at the curly-haired man standing behind him, peering down at the freshly dug grave.

'[color=thistle][b]Is it deep enough?[/b][/color]' asked the boy.

'[b]For a grave?[/b]' said the man. The boy nodded, eagerly expectant. '[b]No.[/b]' 

The boy scowled. Without bothering with a response, he lifted the shovel again.

'[b]Put that away, kid. Let me help out.[/b]'

'[color=thistle][b]I can do it.[/b][/color]'

'[b]Kid-[/b]'

'[color=thistle][b]I can do it![/b][/color]'

A hand landed on the boy's shoulder and he flinched. He bowed his head.

'[color=thistle][b]I have to do it[/b][/color],' he whispered, '[color=thistle][b]I failed her.[/b][/color]'

'[b]Doesn't mean you have to tire yourself out doing a job meant for four able-bodied, trained men.[/b]' The man patted the boy's shoulders. '[b]Put the shovel away.[/b]'

Defeated, the boy nodded. He stepped aside, letting the shovel drop to the ground. The man reached within his cloak, his fingertips pressing against a smooth, cold surface. His other hand reached towards the half-dug grave, clenched into a fist.

'[b]I call on your power in my time of aid[/b],' he muttered, '[b]help me do what requires more than the strength I possess. With the strength of Earth-[/b]' His fist flicked open, spreading his fingers. Visible in the pale moonlight, wisps of purple, tinted with brown, escaped his skin, focussed streams slipping off his fingers. '[b]Move.[/b]'

As if pushed down by some invisible force, the grave sunk deep into the appropriate depth. Beside it, the mound of earth the boy had dug up rose, as if something had expanded within it and was pushing out. The man drew his hand out from his cloak, clapping his hands to dust off dirt that wasn't there.

'[b]Now[/b],' he said, turning to the gaping boy, '[b]let's put her in, shall we?[/b]'

There wasn't much ceremony to it. They buried her, the boy had his moment, and soon, the man and the boy were off. The man didn't look at the boy, even when he heard sniffling beside him. The path they walked was tucked behind a line of buildings. On their other side, the greenery thickened into a group of trees and the ground sloped upwards. Not far beyond the trees, it steeped into the mountain the town was backed against.

'[color=thistle][b]Where are-[/b][/color]' said the boy. His voice was rough. He cleared his throat. Then tried again. '[color=thistle][b]Where are we going?[/b][/color]'

'[b]Like I told you. To get justice for your mother[/b],' said the man.

'[color=thistle][b]But where are we going?[/b][/color]'

'[b]To my carriage.[/b]'

'[color=thistle][b]You have a carriage?[/b][/color]' A pause. '[color=thistle][b]Are you rich?[/b][/color]'

'[b]Me? Not on your life![/b]' the man chuckled. '[b]I'm just a humble man, looking for his humble earnings.[/b]'

'[color=thistle][b]But you know magic.[/b][/color]'

'[b]Doesn't make me any less humble.[/b]'

The boy sounded like he didn't agree with that, but he didn't argue and the man didn't push his point. They lapsed back into silence. A minute later, the boy spoke again.

'[color=thistle][b]You know my name[/b][/color],' the boy said, a minute later. The man nodded, though it was lost in the darkness. Tristan, son of the late Elena. '[i]The beginnings of a tragic history.[/i]' Not much different than most people's backgrounds, really. This world was harsh to the young, unforgiving to the naive, and utterly shitty to the innocent. The poor struggled, the rich pretended to struggle, and the dragons were callous in the face of it all. Survival required more than toughness. It demanded sacrifice. Not much. Just a piece of yourself that you'd never regain, tossed into the hungry mouth of this cruel world.

Not much at all.

'[b]What about it?[/b]'

'[color=thistle][b]Tell me yours[/b][/color],' said Tristan.

'[b]Bob.[/b]'

'[color=thistle][b]What?[/b][/color]'

'[b]That's my name.[/b]'

'[color=thistle][b]That's a weird name.[/b][/color]'

'[b]Your face is weird[/b],' said Bob. Light flickered in the distance and the silhouette of a carriage stood out from the shadows. He grinned. '[b]Don't worry, kid. You'll see justice served soon enough.[/b]'

They reached the carriage and Tristan stared at the cloaked carriage driver. He shifted his feet, teeth worrying his bottom lip.

'[b]Tristan[/b],' said Bob. He knelt down, meeting the boy's eyes. '[b]Do you trust me?[/b]'

Tristan stared back at him, wide eyes glistening in the firelight. He glanced away.

'[color=thistle][b]I miss Mum[/b][/color],' he said.

'[b]I know.[/b]' Bob sighed. '[b]Tristan, I know we haven't known each other long, but I've done nothing but help you, right?[/b]' Tristan nodded. '[b]Then trust me. My friends in the carriage will take care of you.[/b]'

Realisation bloomed in Tristan's eyes. '[color=thistle][b]You're not coming?[/b][/color]'

'[b]I have other things to do. Important things that all have to do with catching your mother's murderer.[/b]' At Tristan's protests, Bob placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, gripping them tightly. '[b]Please, Tristan. You have to be brave. If not for me, then for her.[/b]'

Tristan fell silent, his lips pressing into a thin line.

'[color=thistle][b]Okay[/b][/color],' he said, his voice small. '[color=thistle][b]I'll go.[/b][/color]'

'[b]Good.[/b]' Bob reached up, ruffling the boy's hair. '[b]I'll see you around, yeah?[/b]'

Tristan nodded. He started to turn, hesitated, then seemed to steel himself. Bob watched as Tristan climbed into the carriage, then rose to his feet. He glanced at the driver and nodded. The carriage went off into the night, its torches lighting its way. Left alone in the moonlight, a sigh escaped Bob's lips.

'[b]Lying to kids[/b],' he muttered. He shook his head, a smirk colouring his lips. '[b]You're the worst, "Bob".[/b]'

As easily as a snake might shed its skin, the man discarded the name from his mind. He turned around, eyeing the night sky.

Now to deliver Sancho's report.[/color]