The Kelvic made camp slowly, breaking out her tent, a few pieces of the wood to burn for warmth and light, as well as boiling water. The shaft looked to go up far into the ceiling, so she watched to see if the smoke would stream up rather than collect, and it did making it safe for a small fire. And since the cul-de-sac was well past a bend or two off the track, her light wouldn’t be seen from the main course she’d been following.
Kelski pitched her tent carefully, laid out her bedroll, and started a pot to boil for tea. She stretched out with the tent flap open, and watched the fire until the tea was done. Then she sipped at it, nibbled on a ration, and laid back. “I’m enjoying this…” She told herself, though she missed dinner at The Gem and missed the quiet companionship of its residents. She should have brought Little Rhaus along, and wondered why she didn’t. His music would have been more than welcome at her campfire that night. As if right on que, the pack wiggled, and the little ceramic man climbed out of it though it appeared to be a tight fit.
“Miss me? I wasn’t going to let you run off alone.” He said, climbing up to his feet and walking over to sit down next to Kelski. “So where are we going?” He said thoughtfully, looking around at their subterranean camp and then finally to Kelski who was pulling off the helmet, extinguishing its head lamp, and pulling off her elbow and knee pads.
“I didn’t bring you because I was afraid to break you. I’m exploring a bit of Sunberth’s mines.” She said thoughtfully, wondering how much of the story she should tell him. Naska moved closer, hovered, and pretended not to listen even though Kelski could very well tell the shadow as right there. She wanted to hear the story too, obviously, so the Kelvic obliged.
Little Rhaus rumbled his approval, sensing the exact moment Kelski decided to spill the beans. Naska crowded near as well, all but wrapping the Nightstalker in her shadowy form. “It all started a few tendays ago when I spotted a brat wearing a collar. Can you imagine such a thing? At first, I thought it was a slave… slaves wear collars. But the more I looked around I noticed a lot of people make their pets wear collars too… dogs, cats and the like. These collars had names lovingly written on them. I could tell. They were groomed, clean, and all very fit. And the more I looked around the more I saw of them. There’s literally dozens of brats in the city wearing collars. And they are…. for lack of a better term… the best of the best of the rodents here.
Naska seemed surprised. Kelski could feel the odd excitement rolling off her. Little Rhaus looked puzzled. “Has someone made pets of them?” He asked, tilting his ceramic head and pulling on his beard thoughtfully. Kelski had to grin. He looked like a garden gnome when he did that.
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