Turbinio

Croton Leaves

"I'm fine...'' You said, breathing deeply through your nose and noticing that the little dinosaur had found a very functional shortcut that left you at your destination in just under four minutes. ''I'm perfectly fine. I'm here.''

You rubbed the back of your hand across your forehead to wipe away the cold sweat.

Aren't you tired of living like this? Diego's ironic voice echoed in the back of your mind. You thought about his offer for what seemed like the twentieth time. From the perspective of exhaustion, everything seemed surreal and feasible, including a retirement plan. But could a man like Diego have regretted what he'd done to you enough? Would it be possible for a normal man to suddenly kiss you, just under a month after that incident in the frozen strait?

Thinking logically, however, why not? You'd done much creepier things, after all. And you had no particular reason to suppose that Diego Brando was a normal or decent man - by your standards - if both the rumors and Gyro and Johnny's opinions were true.

The wagon was in the same hiding place and there was no more time for contemplation. You greeted a lady who was throwing more dirty and torn clothes into a pile in the corner of the place and, without blinking, offered her a good sum of money to look after Cadichon in your absence.

"There's amaranth in my wagon, feel free to pick it up. Cadichon likes wilted carrots and raspberry bushes. Do you think you can do that for me?" You said to the girl.

You must have looked terrible, like a serial killer after killing his victim, because the girl's eyes seemed to pop out of their orbits in such a way that even the money notes didn't put her at any ease. But you didn't care, maybe it was something she would be afraid of you coming back to take revenge if she didn't take care of your mule.

The little dinosaur, hidden behind the wagon, emitted a small squeal when the girl got out. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to do what you had come there for - which, in this case, was to get your bag and your ammo packs.

But what was corroding your guts wasn't the nervousness of the imminent danger or even your exposure to it. It was the fact that the gravity of the situation was becoming more and more critical, and now it had reached the point where Diego was willing to abandon his old petty rivalries in exchange for your support as an ally. You wish you had time to tell Johnny and Gyro all this.

However, it was too late, you thought as you slung your bag over your shoulder and reloaded your weapons, then walked over to Cadichon. You were already considering accepting this alliance, although you were suspicious of how easily Diego had given in to your conditions; it definitely wasn't trustworthy and it reminded you of what Hot Pants had revealed about his past and his father's whereabouts. If she had given you this information, it was because it would be useful in situations like this, which she had predicted would happen.

You slid your fingers through the short mane, briefly anticipating your mule's safety in your absence, and stroked her tenderly.

Taking advantage of the few remaining minutes of tranquillity, you talked to her, not knowing when the next time you could do this again would be. The weak heads on your chest and the hooves dragging on the aged wooden floor were evidence of a bond you had created in a few months that was stronger and more lived-in than in years of crossing the continent. Cadichon had seen you act like a shameless idiot too many times to understand when you were opening up your battered heart, and knowing this made your nose tingle with unshed tears.

The conversation lasted until you checked everything in your bag and, when it reached its bitter end, the animal seemed to know that the time had come for you to leave. You stroked Cadichon and kissed her on the forehead as if to ask her to pray for you - if mules pray.