Closed The Enemy of My Enemy [Mitt]

[Kamilla]

37th of Fall, 522

Kids… despite having been one, Kamilla was beginning to realise that she’d not been around many of them in the past decade or so. What had brought this realisation on? The sudden and unexpected amount of time spent around many of the young beings in the past few days since her glorious return to Syka. Of course, considering she had been busy sewing together clothes for the children of The Children’s Pavillion. Kids were expected and yet, the Konti couldn’t deny that being around so many at once was exhaustingly unfamiliar.

Thankfully, she’d just dropped off the children’s clothing she’d been commissioned and was contemplating heading home or to the Tidepool Bar for a drink… already having decided on the latter as her Konti form got dehydrated easily. Perhaps she could go for a swim as well? If she was being honest, she’d barely spent any time in her human form since arriving back in Syka, partially because in her Konti form she could swim without concern, but also because her human form required her to wear knee high boots at all times to hide the hideous burn scar she’d received the night she’d fled Sunberth.

Still feeling somewhat frazzled by the gang of hyperactive children she’d just been surrounded by, Kamilla pulled the Moonstone Ring from her finger and slipped it on, immediately beginning to feel calmer… She’d attempted to use it while amongst the children, but had quickly learned that it was a huge mistake, her head still pounded just by thinking about that onslaught of emotion. The ring not only calmed her own inner state but also allowed her to read the emotional state of those around her, so long as their emotion was powerful… something she’d learned was a constant when it came to kids. Now she was much more careful when using it, only wearing it when she was mostly alone.

Only a short distance from reaching the bar, Kamilla had just removed her ring and skipped it into her bag when she noticed two men leaving her intended destination. Of course, that itself wasn’t enough to peak her interest, it was the fact that she immediately recognised them as the visitors from Sunberth. Having lived there for the first two decades of her life as well as James’ describing them as ‘shady’ was all the help she needed in drawing her conclusion.

On the ship James had urged her to stay hidden in his cabin because the two Sunberthian’s were, understandably, freaked out by her presence on the ship and were, according to the captain, ‘in favor of beheading the creature before she lured them in with a beautiful song and devoured them’. Of course they had seen her for the first time, naked, emaciated, covered in blood from the mouth down and floating on a micro island in the middle of the sea, so… knowing the Sunberth mentality, she couldn’t blame them.

Regardless, here they finally were after several days of Kamilla wondering if she would run into them. They were unremarkable enough at first glance, the first, younger and taller, was muttering something very secretively to the second who… she immediately recognised as ‘Grom, he’d perhaps put on some more weight in the past decade but it was definitely him. The Konti found herself baring her teeth and hissing subtly at the unwelcome blast from the past. Grom had been nothing but a lowly thug working for the Daggerhand gang, she recalled him attempting to extort money out of the locals many times, ‘protection money’ he’d called it. She also particularly recalled her mother coming home with a blue eye once because of him. To this day, she did not understand how her gran had restrained herself…

Ducking behind the nearest building, Kamilla watched as the two scumbags made their way toward the local forge, figuring that they hadn’t come to the settlement to turn over a new leaf. She scoffed out loud. From their body language alone, especially the wide not so toothy grins on their faces, she could tell that they’d seen something of interest at the forge, now walking with purpose, Kamilla following from far behind, keeping behind the sparsely placed buildings at all times. Of course, they would never recognise her from Sunberth, not only had it been a decade since she’d seen Grom, but now her dark hair, eyes and tanned skin had been replaced by white hair, purple eyes and fair scaled skin, though she didn’t want to risk alerting them to her presence. Not so soon at least.

With this in mind, the Konti simply watched from a distance as they arrived at the, thankfully open sided, communal forge, wondering if it was Artik they’d been seeking. She wouldn’t be surprised, Syka was full of people seeking a fresh start, but what could the svefra have possibly done to earn him a Daggerhand duo all the way from Sunberth? Her curiosity was peaked.

836

[Mittle]

Mitt headed out, returning to the Foundry to clean out the clinker and ash from left over coal in the forge. It was one of those millions of little things on the list that always seemed to need doing. And Artik never quite got around to doing any of them. His eyes roamed each thing in casual identification, his awareness was an old Sunberth habit that hadn't quite gone away yet. The man's thoughts roamed casually as he approached.

'We need more coal, that area would be good for a Striker, Grom, Artik's actually standing and talking to someone--'

"Grom!" he nearly shouted in astonishment. Mitt's mind raced in terror at being found. The Sunberth bounty on his head was pretty high and he had zero doubts that it was exactly the reason why that dirt bag was suddenly here in Syka. Nobody liked Basher's brother for good reason. He was sneaky enough to be a thief but couldn't blend in. Grom was big enough to be muscle, but didn't always follow orders. He was so unreliable that even he himself didn't know what he'd do next.

"You're not smart enough so don't even try Grom, eh buddy." Mitt growled at the shady looking man. He glanced over his shoulder, hoping no one was nearby to see them anywhere near each other. Syka was too open to hide any secret for long.

"Is that anyway to greet a long time friend? Me and another old friend of ours is just here to catch up with ya on the good old days, boy." Grom said with a big fake hearty smile.

In front of Artik was a red haired short guy standing about five foot six. The guy pulled his hood back up when he saw Mitt. That man was suspiciously cloaked despite Syka's heat and humidity. Black clothes in this climate was suspicious enough but there was just no way to identify who the hell it was. Until he spoke.

A coin was pressed into Artik's hand with a sneaky grin.
"Go buy a few rounds on me old man, and keep a table for us while we talk to our -good friend- Mitsy here. Then we can all celebrate our happy reunion."

The voice crawled over Mitt's skin like a cockroach and growing anger had him walking angrily toward the shorter guy. Ray!

Ray attempted to put a guiding hand on Mitt's elbow, but was quickly evaded.

"Dont!" he glared, moving in closely to stand over Raymin. Ray sweetly said in a friendly voice.
"So good ta see ya again Mitty boy. It's been so long since we last worked together. We knew each other for how many years?"

Before the tawny haired man could answer, Ray put a sly finger to his lips and whispered his warning quietly, "Play nicely Mitty boy or they'll lynch you for sure in this nice squeaky clean place."

Making large friendly gestures and pasting on a permanent friendly smile, the Sunberth thief/murderer casually kept talking.

"There are some things we should talk about don't ya think? Ah together again at long last!" Ray said in his creepy fake cheerful voice.

"Yea. Fuckin thrilled." Mitt spat out the words, unable to keep civil. "Overjoyed. It's been so long .." Mitt's voice trailed to a whisper,

"Since you killed my mom."

"Yes it has been a long time. Why don't we go join your friend Artik and have some drinks, just like back in Sunberth," Ray paused to continue in a menacing whisper as well.

"You know, that time you made your first mass killing with the sheep run? A bit too harsh for me Mitty my boy, but what ever floats your boat.."

Mitt looked stunned and horrified that Ray had even been there at the tavern after that horrible night! Mitt entirely forgot to whisper.

"You were there?! Were you following me the whole time?"

"Of course Mitsy. I was always a step behind you back in Sunberth. We were closer than a tick on a bedsore. We have so.. much.. history." the smile from Ray was pure malice as he answered in a regular tone that sounded so amiable.

Mitt's eyes looked around nervously, checking for anyone too close by to hear. Dammit the Tidepool was a perfect place to grab a table and talk openly. For hours. People here were working hard all day and a few people only came in after dark.

"Sure, buddy." Mitt agreed with a long pause, turning to look at Grom and then back at Raymin. "Great idea to catch up on old times." He said with a half-hearted imitation of civility.

Mitt seethed but gestured for the two thugs to precede him to the Tidepool. This was gonna suck.

WC 795

[Kamilla]

Still keeping the duo at a safe distance, Kamilla watched as they reached the forge, joined by yet another unfamiliar man only moments later. The newest arrival seemed surprised to see the Sunberth duo and although she was too far to hear what was being said, Kamilla could already tell that he was the one the duo had been looking for. Was he Sunberthian too? It was possible. He had an intimidating size and appearance, an important defense mechanism in the unruly city, but it was still too soon to guess.

Artik left, seemingly in the direction of the Tidepool bar, which coincidentally happened to take him right past her. The Konti quickly pretending to just be taking a breather as she leaned against the building while he passed, ”Kamilla. Long time no see. You look like you need a drink.” he said with a smile, flashing a coin in his hand.

This was not the time, every second Artik spoke to her was a second she could be missing hints on what the trio were doing in Syka. ”Maybe I’ll see you there later.” she said, clearly distracted. Pulling her raven feather war fan from her hip and flicking it open with ease. Despite being made from iron, the magically altered blades were as light as the feathers they appeared on, making it particularly useful for fanning oneself.

”Alright, alright… See ya around then…” The svefra said, having clearly gauged her disinterest.

Kamilla silently thanked an unspecified god as he left, immediately peering back around just in time to notice all three men were headed her way.

”Shyke.” she mumbled, making a quick dash to where Artik was headed for the bar.

”Changed your mind?” he asked, to which she didn’t respond, wordlessly dropping her belongings, excluding the moonstone ring, behind the bar with Stu, and diving into the ocean. Not an uncommon sight in the beachside settlement, eseoclly given that she was a Konti.

Unfortunately the water was barely 5 feet deep, leaving her only option for hiding right beneath the bar, but she was starved for options so it would have to do.

The water soothed her skin and her entire body rejoiced at being hydrated while she enjoyed a few breaths beneath the surface, slowly resurfacing just enough of her upper head for her ears to be exposed, while keeping her nose and mouth below so that she could listen without having to worry about the sounds of her breathing drawing attention. Once again, Kamilla found herself grateful to have gills.

The Konti had already decided, simply by her choice of hiding spot, that she would just wait and do her best to hear whatever the trio had to say. Of course, she had not been this invested in their exchange initially, but she supposed it was too late now. She didn’t have much choice.

Waiting for their approach Kamilla wondered why it seemed as if something was scratching at the edge of her consciousness trying to make itself known. She supposed it was just a result of her past life showing up on her doorstep, or perhaps the resurgence of her anger toward Grom for what he had done. Regardless, no matter what the trio were doing here, at the very least she’d already decided she owed Grom two blue eyes, or a broken bone.

572

[Mittle]

The moment the three men entered, Mitt went to the furthest table in the back. He slouched heavily onto a chair with his back to the corner, directly over the ocean side portion farthest from the door. At least he'd have a pillar of sorts at his back. Everything was an open place here. While Ray got drinks at the bar and talked to Stu, Grom followed directly behind him like a big dumb dog.

"Sit Grom sit. Good dog." Mitt smirked.

Grom's fake happy smile faltered a bit, turning swiftly to the better known hate-filled glare of murderous proportions.

The tawny haired man smiled a big fake smile right back at Grom and murmured,
"Be careful, you dropped your pocket!"

Grom immediately stopped glaring and automatically bent down to look under the table. After a moment's confusion, he asked Mitt,
"What?"

"Still a genius I see.." He said sarcastically and stretched out his legs beneath the table, slouched in the chair and folded his arms over his chest to prepare for incoming torture. Grom's fake smile was in place, as were his very large calloused angry fists directly on the table.

Ray walked back with a pretty barmaid carrying three large mugs filled with beer and an even larger pitcher. Mitt rolled his eyes and sighed at Raymin. The red head's smile was all cheerful and happy as long as the barmaid lingered. The moment she left, he slid a chair over to Mitt, squeezing him tight into the pillar behind him. Grom moved in from the other side for them to hold him in a vise grip. Mitt was well and truly trapped now.

"How you've grown little boy Mittle." Ray pretended to look at him while taking a long gulp of beer.
"You a saint here? Huh? Bein a good kid? Are they buying your line o' shit, coz I'm not." All the while he said these things, Raymin's expression looked open and friendly, his words not carrying past their area.

Mitt's chair creaked against pressure coming from two sides and he had a feeling he'd soon be the one crushed between Grom and Ray. He responded out of habit without any real venom in his tone. He was tired of being used to it.

"Grom, ya still murdering people's mothers for some quick gold? Ray, nice ta see you're still barely over five feet for the last what... nine? ten years? Yeah you're the saint for beating on a kid nine years younger than you. Makes you a real man dunnit Ray?"

Grom drank down both his mug of beer and the one meant for Mitt, finishing them off with a loud, yeasty belch. Both Ray and Mitt glanced at him and turned back to each other.

"Ya didn't tell me it was so dead in here Mittsy. We can't stay hidden in an empty room."

Mitt just looked at Raymin and gave a long stare and a slow obvious blink.

"Ya didn't ask me. And this ain't the same as Sunberth."

"Then we're meeting tonight at your place after sunset. And ya better be there."

Without any prompting, Grom knocked the chair out from directly under Mitt, kicking him sharply backwards and he fell through the air, landing in the water with a loud splash, back first.

Grom and Ray calmly stood and left the Tidepool together, walking out the door slowly as if nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened.


WC 578 WC total 1,373

[Kamilla]

Kamilla could hear the trio making their way down toward exactly where she was lurking under the dock. Three sets of footsteps easily distinguishable, even to her. The loudest set, so heavy she thought the deck would break with each step, also sloppy, feet dragging rather than lifting, clearly belonged to Grom. Had she been above water she would have hissed again at the very thought of the man who was now only a foot above her.

The second heaviest steps came with wide strides, implying long legs, surely the third stranger, they were also pretty noisy but at least they sounded like walking and not a dying creature dragging itself along. Then finally came the third’s along with someone else, both sets were quite light, though once the fourth retreated to the bar Kamilla knew it had been the cloaked stranger. She could hear chairs shuffling together right above, insults already being thrown at Grom from both his companions. A big blundering idiot even after a decade it seemed.

How you've grown little boy Mittle. You a saint here? Huh? Bein a good kid? Are they buying your line o' shit, coz I'm not."

So the third man was indeed from Sunberth. She could think of a hundred reasons why someone would leave that cesspool of a city, but what was his reason? What had they called him, Little? She supposed it was a fittingly ironic name for someone so large.

”Grom, ya still murdering people's mothers for some quick gold? Ray, nice ta see you're still barely over five feet for the last what... nine? ten years? Yeah you're the saint for beating on a kid nine years younger than you. Makes you a real man dunnit Ray?"

It was the first time she’d heard Little, sometimes Litzy? Properly speak. She could hear the accent. Which left the hooded man as… Ray. Grom, Little and Ray. Got it. Still straining her ears to hear through the sounds of the waves lapping at the deck. Kamilla had her hands balled into fists thinking about how many people the dirt bags above her had hurt or killed.

She could probably end all three of them there and then, though from what she heard it seemed Little was indeed trying to get a fresh start… or flee, she hadn’t yet decided.

Not wanting to do something she’d regret, Kamilla slipped the moonstone ring onto her finger, instantly feeling calmer as she began to slowly move to the edge of the dock, she needed to get a better look at the hooded one’s face, maybe she’d recognise him too. There was a lot of shuffling coming from the chairs above, she hoped they’d be too distracted to notice her.

Splash!

Kamilla felt her small body pressed flat into the sand bed, the wind knocked out of her, but thankfully she could gasp in water instead. Something had hit her, no… someone had landed on her and still had her pinned in the sand. Purple eyes opened as she did her best to push the attacker off of her, unable to respond with the appropriate panic because of the ring’s calming effect.

Eventually Kamilla managed to slither out from under the man, breaking the surface of the water with a look of disbelief at the one who had just landed on her. ”You could have killed me.” she said calmly, sounding far less threatening than she’d hoped. Had there not been water to dampen the fall, Kamilla had no doubt that the giant of a man would have broken something of hers. This man that was clearly in work with the other two thugs, or at least was once.

It was only then that Kamilla realised that the ring was picking up on the man’s emotion too… ”You’re… scared.” she stated, once again bluntly, finally deciding to pull the ring off. A mixture of aggression, anger at being crushed and general distrust, or caution perhaps, began to trickle into her. ”Why? Who are you? What are you doing in Syka? And why are those men here too?” she asked, this time a lot more assertively, her hands were at her sides, ready.

With all the commotion, Kamilla had not given a single thought to whether he’d purposely thrown himself at her, or even how he’d react to the ghostly pale, white haired, purple eyed and iridescently scaled Konti in the water with him. All she knew was that all three men were from Sunberth with secrets to hide… and that she was grateful that the other two, Grom and Ray… had left already.

784

[Mittle]

Mitt tried to brace all two hundred pounds for a hard impact so the water tension from the fall hit his back like a solid brick wall. And then he sank onto something nice and soft and he struggled to sit up a bit but slid back again. Something unknown was moving beneath him! Panicked, he struggled to find some solid purchase in the sliding sand and gasped for air, trying to raise his head above the water. Whatever sea creature it was, finally moved and he was eventually able to rise to his feet with an unsteady lurch.

His heart pounded against the inside of his chest and his pulse roared in his ears while he tried to draw breath. Everything he had on was soaked and ponderous with dripping sea water. The tawny haired man was still wearing his heavy work pants, long sleeve shirt, apron and heavy boots all soaked which added another solid twenty five pounds. He coughed and sputtered, spit out some seawater and suddenly he heard a woman's voice behind him.

Someone spoke gently behind him from the water and he couldn't believe his bloodshot eyes. Wait what was she? He'd vaguely heard mention of some water people but he had never actually seen one up close before.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was beneath me when I was literally, physically getting my ass kicked." He snapped in a leftover vent of feeling from his recent scare.

"I mean it, I didn't know anyone was there. Are ya ok?" his eyes were dark blue and almost all pupils with fear. His childlike expression was ludicrous on a six foot one, two hundred pound adult. But if anything could spark a memory, that would.

In a knee jerk reaction and totally juvenile response,
"Am not." Mitt instantly denied being scared. Like a total idiot.

He stomped out of the water and safely back onto the sand, his heavy boots squelching loudly with each step, and the soaked apron slapping against his legs for every stride.

"I don't know, Mitt, and nunya business." the soaked young man answered over his shoulder, as he continued walking a few paces further onto the beach. Scared and irritated, he removed his soaked apron and threw it off of him before sitting down. Mitt sat in the sand facing the Konti but was more concerned with fending off her questions and getting rid of the wet, water heavy clothes. His dark blue eyes lightened as he tugged off a boot, upended it and let the water run out. With a sigh and a firm jerk he pulled off the other boot, turned it over and let the water drain out. Laying the boots aside in the sand he lifted his knees to rest his arms on them them and slouched to face the woman.

"Sorry I fell on ya, but seriously, what do -you- care who I am?" He retorted and gestured to the apron he threw and the burn scars down his arms, hands and fingers.
"I'm a blacksmith."

Mitt turned over on his side and fished the soaked gloves out of his pocket, throwing them on the sand as well. The adrenaline finally leaving his body, he sighed and took off the soaked shirt to toss to the sand.

”Why? Who are ya? What are ya doing spyin' on me in Syka?" he repeated back defensively to her, sounding like a kid. Mitt dug his large hands into the sand to hide the shaking and sprawled out his long legs to look at her with a grey eyed stare.

First Grom, then Ray, a charming boot print to the gut, almost getting drowned and now an interrogation from a stranger? This one was gonna be a story for the journal for sure!


WC 635 WC total 2,088

[Kamilla]

”Am not.”

Kamilla couldn’t prevent the amused frown that appeared on her face due to the juvenile response. Paired with the fact that she was undoubtedly right about his current emotional state, given that she’d personally felt it, the familiar bitter taste of fear that everyone had felt at some point in their lives. The Konti simply shook her head feeling no need to argue something so futile.

But, there was something familiar about the man’s wide blue eyes and childish response, a sense of deja vu… an itch in need of scratching.

"I don't know, Mitt, and nunya business."

The large man went on to ramble defensively, Kamilla only half paying attention, now absorbed in sorting through her own thoughts and memories… he was from Sunberth… Mitt… why did that sound so familiar? Then it hit her, purple irises widening with the realisation… her eyes now seeing the grown man as he was the day they’d met all those years ago, a scared child being bullied.

””Why? Who are ya? What are ya doing spyin' on me in Syka?”

He was still going on, she’d noted that he was now a blacksmith, it explained his location when she first laid eyes on him… but not much else. She would need him to snap out of whatever emotional rush he was currently experiencing if she actually wanted to get some information out of him.

Her hand slapped at the surface of the water to splash what should have been a minuscule amount of water given her petite size, but he would find about two buckets worth directed right at him, if he hadn’t already been soaked through, her discreet little trick would have done it for sure. She understood that, given where he was from, revealing her magic would only make him even less cooperative.

”I guess things never change huh… Mittens?” she said with a smirk, arms crossed as she leaned into her hip. ”Several pounds heavier and still being pushed around…” she added, choosing to remain in the, for her, thigh high water. If he hadn’t calmed down she would hit him with another two bucket splash.

The mage allowed him some time to reset as well as see if he would remember her. If he didn’t, she honestly couldn’t blame him. The last time they’d met had been about a decade ago, he was a kid, she was a human with long dark wavy locks of hair, warm tan skin and dark eyes… whereas now she was a fair skinned Konti with straight pale blonde hair, purple eyes and shimmering scales adorning the sides of her body and face.

All things considered, whether she’d known him or not, her position hadn’t changed. If the visitors from Sunberth were up to something, she wanted to know what it was… and if Mittens was in trouble, she’d need to know why before deciding how to deal with him too. She already knew they’d agreed to meet him later that evening.

”I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s happening…” she added with a small shrug.

533

[Mittle]

Mitt slouched his full weight back on his hands and regarded her with an untrusting frown, putting out his chin stubbornly. Her weird fish face looked hostile as hell with a bitchy tone to match and he didn't trust her one bit.

For someone who had thrown so many rude insistent questions at him a few chimes before, she certainly didn't seem to give a shit about the answers now. She in fact, looked totally zoned out, ignored him and completely disregarded what he said! What was she staring at? With those purple? Purple eyes? And scales. And gills.

For no reason at all she suddenly shoved a giant splash of water at him and he just sat there, stunned and even more soaked. Mitt just sat there dripping and blinking the water out of his eyes and then spitting out seawater to the side of him. The young blacksmith tilted his head to one side, helping to better drain out the water from his ear.

She was merely splashing water, so the idea of magic simply didn't even enter his mind in such a natural setting. What was her problem? Why didn't she just leave? Who asked questions but didn't listen for answers? Despite her freaky fish looks, she completely acted like she'd spent her whole life in Sunberth as a hundred percent badass!

"Thanks, I was obviously getting too dry." Mitt retorted sarcastically, his blue eyes pinned on her face in an annoyed glare.

"Ya know, that was really fu--" Mitt paused in his complaint at her weird comment. Why was she calling him that? Mittens? What a stupid name! That's something a sister would say or--a light bulb went off in his soaked head and the tawny haired man stared at her searchingly. A long time memory tickled at the edge of his brain..

It was a brutal cold winter that he turned nine and his mother had saved her meager earnings to get him a new set of warm mittens. Ray was pummeling him as usual and all Mittle had wanted was to get back home in peace, not pieces. When Raymin got bored, he left him in a snowdrift. Mittle got up and went back on his way home finally, wiping off a split lip, when he'd bumped into a beautiful dark haired woman. Her eyes were bright with intelligence and her smile was kind, even to a stranger like him. They had soon discovered that Kam, as she introduced herself, was looking for a kid named Mitt, to give him Mittens... it was a brief meeting but he'd remembered it well. No one had ever called him Mittens like that. Only her.

His expression hardened and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he frowned at the Konti.
"Dontcha ever call me that! And where did ya get that from? Do ya know Kim?" he paused and corrected himself,
"Do ya know Kam?"

She better not have done anything to that nice tailor girl he knew. But then he had no idea what water people did or anything about them at all.

In fact there was something off about this whole thing and it made him uneasy. He rose to his full six foot one height and crossed his arms over his chest to look down at her. He clamped his mouth shut. There was something fishy going on here.


WC 556 Total WC 2,652

[Kamilla]

It seemed the nickname ‘Mittens’ seemed to have done the trick. At least partially. Kamilla could clearly see the wheels turning in the, now enormous, child’s head as he tried to put two and two together. Granted, she still didn’t blame him for not identifying her in her new form… for a moment she considered whether or not she should reveal her identity at all.

”Can't you tell?” she paused, a naughty smirk appearing on her face.

”It’s me, Kamilla. Didn’t you hear? I’m a Konti who lures men into the water and devours them now… you should ask your, friends about me when you see them again tonight. They were apparently against me being on board...”

”Anyway…” The Konti waved a hand as if dismissing that part of the conversation. ”They seem to be here for you. Why? What did you do, Mittens? I have a bone to pick with Grom… so you’re either in my way or of some assistance.”

Perhaps she was being a bit too blunt, she didn’t want him running off and alerting the scumbags, but given that he was clearly terrified of them and they’d just booted him into the ocean, she couldn’t see much motivation to snitch on his behalf. Of course she could always be wrong.

Glancing around, Kamilla was unsurprised to see that no eyes were on them… except perhaps Stu at the bar who had surely noticed them, but there wasn’t anything particularly suspicious about two Sykans taking a swim or chatting on the beach.

Allowing him some time to digest or think, or… hopefully, not flee, she certainly wouldn’t chase him, but she’d find him eventually, the settlement was pretty small.

Kamilla took the time to observe him further, the changes were quite startling if she were being honest. First and foremost, he’d doubled, maybe tripled in size in the past decade… as evidenced by her needing to tilt her head slightly backwards to look him in the eyes now that he was at his full height. He also seemed to have filled out nicely, she supposed it was a result of being a blacksmith. They lifted and hit metal all day, right? Made sense that it would build some muscle.

Now that his full size had registered properly, Kamilla felt even more amused and able to consolidate her memory of him as a child with his adult self… still seemed to be the timid pushover even with his new size advantage. She wondered if Jehu would be willing to toughen him up a bit… maybe if she asked nicely. She wondered what kind of weapon would best suit little Mittens.

452

[Mittle]

Mitt snorted contemptuously and replied,

"Ya ain't Kamilla, nice try. She wasn't a what? Kawn tee? She was regular like me. And what did ya do to her? A skinny fishy little thing like ya?! Ya lured her out to sea and devoured her? I'm not buyin' it fish breath!"

His eyes turned a dark and increasingly angry blue. He gestured to the growing large boot print shaped bruise on his stomach and said scornfully,

"What petchin' friends? Are ya kiddin' me? I ain't got any gods damned petchin' friends. Anywhere. Here or Sunberth." Friends! That stung. Mitt exhaled and rocked back on his heels, ready for battle. The tawny haired man didn't know what this fish woman meant, but she sounded like a giant slag heap of Sunberth styled trouble.

"I said stop calling me that! And my business ain't ANY o' yours lady!" answering back defensively. Was she sent by them? Was this some kind of stupid trick in getting him to confess? Nuh uh. No way. Mitt shook his head at Kamilla's words and it took a minute for what she said to filter through the angry haze.

She had a beef with Grom?! Mitt laughed sharply with no humor whatsoever.

"He's all yours lady. I want no petchin' part o' him!"

An uncomfortable silence ensued as she gave him a long slow look over. Great. The local human women wanted no part of him but a scaled woman was eyeing him? Aw hells no! Mitt took three firm steps backward, putting a safer distance between them.

"A little personal space, huh lady? "

Yea she wanted to know all about him, said she was Kamilla, and she 'lured people to devour them?' Whatever. The tall young man had heard enough fish stories so he gathered up his clothes and boots into a bundle under his arm.

"Whoever ya are, I got enough on my plate without ya lying to my face about who ya are. Ya want Grom? Have at 'im lady! Save your crazy fish stories for someone else. I'm outta here."

The young blacksmith turned on his heel and walked off with large angry strides. Completely turning his back on her, he stomped across the beach all the way back to his tent. He had about two bells left to think of what to do about Ray and Grom. He wasn't worried about Grom because the guy was just flat out stupid. You push his buttons to get him mad, he always reacts, step aside and strike. He was nothing.

But Ray. Ray was in Dagggerhand and had a decade of street smarts of advantage on his side. Not to mention the childhood bullying that left more of a stigma than he'd ever admit. Even to himself.


WC 462 Total WC 3,114