Paplo nodded, offering a cocky smirk to his new companion.
“Feed me, you say? My, I already feel like an animal companion,” jested Paplo. “Need I remind you that I am still somewhat trapped in this agreement? You spared my life on two occasions. Whenever you require of my services, I shall aid you without protest, and least you falter on your promise of fodder, I shall not discount the two favors I must return from this moment onward.”
Paplo took a moment to scout the vicinity, once again being reminded of what had transpired in this location. Noth had dealt with the novices with ease, and their bodies had flown everywhere; like shrapnel. It seemed not many options were present.
“Hiding the bodies will, indeed, occupy a great portion of our time and strengths, and so leaving them is a viable option. Come on,” he said, turning around. “I shall aid you in the robbery of the dead.”
Without leaving a chance to inspire protest within the Avian, Paplo made his way towards the hillock, scurrying behind it to find the fresh corpse waiting to be robbed. With eyebrows raised, and an expression of utter disinterest, Paplo crouched down and inspected the male. Human, male, young adult, average height, average weight. His clothing was severely compromised by blood, a great hemorrhage having been caused by the arrow to the throat, possibly drowning him to death. Paplo’s stomach grumbled as he stared, yet the sound was ignored.
Paplo took the weapons first. The small hand-axe that would’ve separated head from body was first, followed by the short-bow the individual carried with him. Seven simplistic arrows were also added to the collection, not including the one lodged in the bounty-hunter’s throat – one which Paplo struggled to dislodge. After the weaponry was taken, Paplo patted down the male, palms searching for objects stored in pockets or hidden from its companions. A few wanted posters were located in his pockets, which Paplo crumbled and threw away, a recently-used female undergarment, which was also thrown away, and a small grindstone, which Paplo inspected and, unbeknownst to its use, quickly concluded that held no use. He then proceeded to take away the man’s footwear, for the boots seemed comfortable and warm, yet quickly proved to be larger than Paplo’s foot size. After sliding his feet inside them, he discovered that they were, indeed, very warm.
Those same boots flapped weirdly once the Mortalborn returned to the flayed corpse, carrying the bow, the axe, and the arrows with him. With him, he carried a satisfied grin, for his new footwear kept his feet very warm.
“They did not possess much, but I believe this will be of your satisfaction,” he said. “Let’s proceed to your home. I hunger for meat already.”
“Feed me, you say? My, I already feel like an animal companion,” jested Paplo. “Need I remind you that I am still somewhat trapped in this agreement? You spared my life on two occasions. Whenever you require of my services, I shall aid you without protest, and least you falter on your promise of fodder, I shall not discount the two favors I must return from this moment onward.”
Paplo took a moment to scout the vicinity, once again being reminded of what had transpired in this location. Noth had dealt with the novices with ease, and their bodies had flown everywhere; like shrapnel. It seemed not many options were present.
“Hiding the bodies will, indeed, occupy a great portion of our time and strengths, and so leaving them is a viable option. Come on,” he said, turning around. “I shall aid you in the robbery of the dead.”
Without leaving a chance to inspire protest within the Avian, Paplo made his way towards the hillock, scurrying behind it to find the fresh corpse waiting to be robbed. With eyebrows raised, and an expression of utter disinterest, Paplo crouched down and inspected the male. Human, male, young adult, average height, average weight. His clothing was severely compromised by blood, a great hemorrhage having been caused by the arrow to the throat, possibly drowning him to death. Paplo’s stomach grumbled as he stared, yet the sound was ignored.
Paplo took the weapons first. The small hand-axe that would’ve separated head from body was first, followed by the short-bow the individual carried with him. Seven simplistic arrows were also added to the collection, not including the one lodged in the bounty-hunter’s throat – one which Paplo struggled to dislodge. After the weaponry was taken, Paplo patted down the male, palms searching for objects stored in pockets or hidden from its companions. A few wanted posters were located in his pockets, which Paplo crumbled and threw away, a recently-used female undergarment, which was also thrown away, and a small grindstone, which Paplo inspected and, unbeknownst to its use, quickly concluded that held no use. He then proceeded to take away the man’s footwear, for the boots seemed comfortable and warm, yet quickly proved to be larger than Paplo’s foot size. After sliding his feet inside them, he discovered that they were, indeed, very warm.
Those same boots flapped weirdly once the Mortalborn returned to the flayed corpse, carrying the bow, the axe, and the arrows with him. With him, he carried a satisfied grin, for his new footwear kept his feet very warm.
“They did not possess much, but I believe this will be of your satisfaction,” he said. “Let’s proceed to your home. I hunger for meat already.”
