Gunnar finishes off the packages that he’s been working on since breakfast, running his hand through his greasy black hair and scratching his scraggly beard. He sighs and packs the ten parcels into a sack.
Caw and Ripple are running around the stable in an elaborate game of tag. Either that or they’re fighting again, and Caw can’t catch Ripple.
“Oi, stop it, you two!” Both animals stop at the sound of the Green aspect in Gunnar’s voice, strengthening the deep bond between them. “Caw, you’re coming with me today. Ripple, you keep this place safe,” he looks up to the rafters, “and you stay here as well, Beltram.”
Gunnar then walks over to his bed, picking up his tools and weapons. The Raven looks down and caws at Gunnar. With a flick of her curved tail, Ripple does a hop and a jump and lies down on top of a cabinet, closing her eyes.
Caw cocks his head, then heads over and grabs the sack in his massive jaw, bringing it over to Gunnar. “Good boy,” Gunnar says, and Caw gives his stubby tail a little wag. “Time to go.” Gunnar turns to the other animals. “You two be good!”
Ripple lets out a yawn, and Beltram cries at Gunnar. Opening the door, Caw trots out of the stable with Gunnar in tow. “We have to deliver this first, boy.” Caw nods and looks up with intelligent eyes, then jogs off knowing the destination Gunnar wants to reach. After a few minutes, Gunnar and Caw come to a dirty alley off Tanner Street. This is where most of the homeless live, as the smell of their unwashed bodies, is masked by the stink from the tanneries.
Moving from ramshackle to lean to and dropping a package in front of each, Gunnar then comes to the last tent. Two half-breed children emerge, beaming at him. By the look of them, they are twins, one male and one female, both with dirty blonde hair.
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“Mr Gunnar, you came again today!” the boy calls out.
With a grunt, Gunnar acknowledges the boy, dropping a parcel into his small arms. “You two goin’ to the Shrine to live yet?”
Looking at these two dishevelled children, he wonders whether his own children are living on the street, abandoned by their mother. And their father. He always makes sure these two innocents have enough food; it’s no substitute for his own lost kids, but it’s better than nothing.
The girl hides her face behind her brother. “Like the Abyssus, we are.” She pulls out a dirty knife. “If you or anyone tries, I’ll cut ya!”
Caw growls then flops down in front of the boy and rolls over to show his belly. Gunnar smiles, then coughs to hide his amusement, hoping his own children have this level of gumption. “You’re a lucky boy, Caw. They like you, even if they don’t like me!”
The children’s half-breed mother comes out. With a voice barely louder than a whisper, she says, “Put that away, Helana.”
The boy drops to his knees and starts to scratch Caw’s belly. The massive mastiff’s leg begins to kick, and his mouth opens, tongue lolling to the side. “Such a good boy, aren’t you?” he says. Caw responds with a little yip.
“Sorry, Gunnar,” Helana says. “Just want to stay together.”
“Whatever.” Gunnar grunts. “But put that blade away, as Caw and me have to be heading off.”
The girl looks upset, sullenly putting away the knife. “My name is Helana, not ‘girl’.”
“Like I care.” Gunnar’s voice drops. “You two look after each other.”
Sighing, he wonders whether he would behave the same towards Lone if he had his children with him. He turns away so as not to show his tears, then scrambles up and over a fence at the end of the alley. Caw rolls back to his feet and gives Helana a considerable lick, which causes her to giggle. Growling a little at the boy, he then licks him too, and with a simple jump, Caw jumps the fence to follow his bonded partner.
Landing beside Gunnar and almost as tall, Caw shoulders him. “Bloody dog, ya nearly pushed me over!” Gunnar yells. Caw pants with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and Gunnar cuffs him fondly. “Bah, you shut up, or by Trinity, I’ll take you back to where I found you!”
Caw knows his partner’s bark is far scarier than his bite. Seeing the amusement in Caw’s eyes, Gunnar grunts again. “You, dog, will be the death of me.” Breaking into a jog, he says, “We need to get to the Hall soon. Let's go!”