So she is capable of negotiating. Not bad. He's still convinced she's way too high-strung, but it's a sign that she's easy to work with.
"Maybe you should. Much easier to find when the tourists are out. They say that the monsters come out when there's blood in the water...or something along those lines."
And they would find each other, but only in passing, as he worked his shifts. When it came close to time to sign his new contract with Sybil, however, things suddenly went south.
No one expected New Cloudbank to attract any enemies, given their strong trade routes and entertainment, but there are those who have greedier motivations, seeking to take the island jewel for themselves. This was the moment that Boxer was born for.
Not so much the one he was meant to die for.
By himself, he'd managed to fight off the first scouting armada, taking down the seven-ship fleet with strength and wit alone, but it was not without his own casualties. He would've died for sure if the local fishermen hadn't gathered at the ruckus to assess what had happened, and they were not about to go home without their monster-buddy, even if he was hanging on by a thread.
If his wits had been about him at the time, he would have asked for his marine veterinarian, but all he could really think about was telling Sybil that they'd have to delay his contract, demanding that someone contact her. Priorities. For what it's worth, though, one of the senior fish mongers provides Sybil with the contact information for the professional.
It works out for the best in the end, however, because one of Sybil's pools just happens to be just right for a medicine tank.
He's not one for conversation these days, strung out from pain medication and uninclined to clear out the water from his lungs, relying on the syphon on his side because it hurt a whole lot less. Plus, his buoyancy is mostly shot, as he's missing three and a half of his tentacles and his left arm.
no subject
So she is capable of negotiating. Not bad. He's still convinced she's way too high-strung, but it's a sign that she's easy to work with.
"Maybe you should. Much easier to find when the tourists are out. They say that the monsters come out when there's blood in the water...or something along those lines."
And they would find each other, but only in passing, as he worked his shifts. When it came close to time to sign his new contract with Sybil, however, things suddenly went south.
No one expected New Cloudbank to attract any enemies, given their strong trade routes and entertainment, but there are those who have greedier motivations, seeking to take the island jewel for themselves. This was the moment that Boxer was born for.
Not so much the one he was meant to die for.
By himself, he'd managed to fight off the first scouting armada, taking down the seven-ship fleet with strength and wit alone, but it was not without his own casualties. He would've died for sure if the local fishermen hadn't gathered at the ruckus to assess what had happened, and they were not about to go home without their monster-buddy, even if he was hanging on by a thread.
If his wits had been about him at the time, he would have asked for his marine veterinarian, but all he could really think about was telling Sybil that they'd have to delay his contract, demanding that someone contact her. Priorities. For what it's worth, though, one of the senior fish mongers provides Sybil with the contact information for the professional.
It works out for the best in the end, however, because one of Sybil's pools just happens to be just right for a medicine tank.
He's not one for conversation these days, strung out from pain medication and uninclined to clear out the water from his lungs, relying on the syphon on his side because it hurt a whole lot less. Plus, his buoyancy is mostly shot, as he's missing three and a half of his tentacles and his left arm.
Don't worry, though. They're growing back.
At least he can watch TV.