A bird.

Mouse watched it shift its beady eyes from side to side. But the bird didn’t see him from where he knelt behind a dresser resting beneath the windowsill. He shifted his weight to his feet, readying them. He bounced slightly, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he watched it.

He could eat it. Or capture it. Both? Probably both. But he’d eaten a peach a short bit ago, and didn’t feel like bird.

Mouse tenderly slid a hand to the top of the dresser, palm outstretched like Taiga showed him. In it, a prize Taiga had brought him the day before from a stall in the market; grain. The bird froze, beady eyes watching the hand. He stopped, keeping himself as still as possible. The bird hopped through the open window, paused, then hopped closer.

His heart sped up, and he ventured an inch forward. The bird took flight, and just as he thought his chances were gone, the bird landed back at the sill. He waited, holding his breath until the bird ventured back towards the grain.

This time, he stayed still, remembering Taiga’s reminder to stay patient. Fine, he’d give it a try. Minutes passed, and the bird only cocked its head in every direction possible. Then, it leapt forward again. Another hop, landing on the dresser.

At long last, the bird hopped into his hand, and picked a grain up in its mouth. The excitement filled Mouse to the brim, bursting at the seams through trembles and a smile spreading over his face. The bird’s eyes cocked to his, and he froze again.

“Hi,” he whispered, before it took off with the grain, speeding away like a thief. He kept his eyes focused on it, until the bird disappeared into a tree.

“Feeling better?” Taiga came up behind him with a towel in hand, ruffling it over his wet hair. He’d left at sun up to take a bath on the first floor of the inn.

Mouse nodded. “The voices are gone.”

Taiga paused, lingering his gaze on him, before grabbing his tunic off the bed. Mouse turned back towards the open window. He hopped over the dresser, and hung his legs out over the sill. He fanned out his toes, letting the breeze pass through them.

Out on the street, the voices of a few stall owners called out to passing customers. He watched an old man pause at a vegetable stand, pointing at a couple. A few children ran beneath the trees on the opposite side of the street. Two held wooden swords, and one laughed ahead of them. A mother scolded her daughter outside the inn. Something about her dirtied dress. Mouse lost interest.

He paused, realizing his hand started scratching his throat again. Turning behind him, Taiga hadn’t noticed. Good, since he grew tired of being lectured. A boom a short distance away startled him. A few groans of the street vendors, and yells about toppled wine barrels from a cart. Nothing important.

Three days… that was how long it took for the screams and cries wreaking chaos within him to silence. When he awoke after the Guardian was slain, he rested upon pillows and nestled into quilts and blankets at the inn. Taiga asked him about the demons, but he recalled nothing of them.

What he instead remembered were the howls of agony and pain every Guardian Spirit felt at the loss of Mafgnesn, echoing through the fallen Guardian, and rattling him. The connection between the Guardians was something Mouse didn’t understand well. They were all the same entity, but not.

Severing the life of one… he wondered if it was akin to cutting off a sense, such as smell or sight. Of course, that wasn’t the case, but maybe the devastation could be similar to what he would feel. Or maybe he was wrong, and it was closer to losing someone most dear and precious.

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For him, that would be Taiga.

Mouse shook the thought from himself, as he did with the screams still echoing through remnants and memories within him. The pain was not something he knew how to bear. So instead, he watched the humans outside, milding about like the insects they were.

“What do you think of getting a horse?” Taiga broke a building annoyance.

“I thought we couldn’t… What, afford? We couldn’t afford one?” Mouse eagerly spun back towards him, who sat upon the bed and read through their finance book. Mouse saw no point in this action, but Taiga seemed to enjoy tracking their money.

“We can’t. I didn’t say ‘buy’.”

He liked where this conversation was going. “I saw a guy a few minutes ago walking two. We can jump him and—”

“No.”

Mouse paused. Well, if they weren’t going to steal them, what was the point. “Are we… not getting a horse then?”

“We are. But not from a normal working person. A few men in the baths were talking about upcoming auctions. Just south of here is a huge auction house, specialized in animals. There’s a well-known stable which supplies different sorts of horses to auction for the wealthy nobility.” He closed the booklet, sliding it into a pouch of his bag.

Mouse grinned. “So we’ll get one from there?”

“That’s the plan.”

Mouse thought for a moment. A horse would be great, but something else came to mind. His smile widened. “They sell all sorts of animals at this auction?”

Taiga visibly paused. Stiffly, he replied, “yes. Where is this going?”

“So, they’ll have linlao there?”

He missed the big feathered beasts of the warfront. Large enough to carry two men while dressed in armor, they never wavered in the face of war, graceful in the way they slithered through a sea of violence. Half-bird and half-salamander, linlao were one of the few creatures undeterred by his presence.

“I thought you wanted a horse?” Taiga crossed his arms over his chest, not awaiting a response. “I could snoop around. See what we find. If the auction is as big as rumor says, they’ll surely have at least a few for sale.”

“Yes! A linlao!” Mouse twirled around, grabbing his socks and pulling them onto his feet.

“Okay but,” Taiga halted his excitement, “if we’re going for a linlao, there are some rules. We’ll only get one in common markings. A finch, dove, blackbird. Got it? Common markings not easily traced, mild mannered, and young.”

“Young?” Mouse made sense on the first two, but did age matter?

“If the linlao is already bonded and loyal to an owner, it’ll be a lot harder to steal, right?”

Mouse supposed this was true.

“We’ll look for one intended for fieldwork. Lazy, calm, and less likely to be searched for. If we steal one with unique colors, markings, or physique, the more likely it’s desired by the wealthy and therefore of higher value. They’ll be less willing to overlook one missing. Understand?”

Mouse nodded, pulling boots on and stuffing a couple peaches he’d snagged earlier into his bag. He scooped the bag onto his back, and readied. They’d finally have a mount. A horse would have been great, but a linlao? Mouse nearly trembled in anticipation.

“Mouse, do you hear me?”

“Whaaaaat?” He whined. “Let’s go.”

“Common markings. Mild mannered. Young. Agreed?”

He nodded again, scanning the room for anything left behind. He picked a water flask from the side table and strung its handle over the strap, knotting it in place. Taiga rolled his sweater up and stuffed it into the side of his bag, though he kept his sight on Mouse.

“Mouse.”

“Agreed! Common, mild, young.”

Taiga eyed him a moment, before slinging his bag onto his back, and followed him out the door. “Fine. To the auction house. Don’t make me regret this.”

Running down the stairs, Mouse chose to ignore that last sentence. The innkeeper eyed him as he tumbled through, visibly relaxing when she saw Taiga. She smiled at him, wiping her hands dry on a towel stuffed into her waistband.

“Your companion awoke, I see. Leaving?”

“Yes, thank you for everything,” Taiga replied, handing her a few coins. The woman counted them while turning away.

“Safe travels.” She made a short bow to him. Taiga returned it, following Mouse out the door.