“A groat for the Chapel and four pennies for my dogs." The six Dalmatians were sitting beside Francis, each one leaning in, right up close. One was with the milk eye, and another had a canker bulging from his fur. Overall the group appeared to be kept very poorly.
The men looked at one another. Francis knew they had no groats to give. Murmur shuffled his feet with the numbness crawling in - he wanted to go home.
Granoldi groaned deeply out from the trench, as he was still lying in its slump, attached to the cart and corpse.
“Your hounds have the weevils” said Francis, inspecting the top of the largest one’s head. His tone was respectful. The dialogue was naturally coming to an end, as none of the men were enjoying the cold.
“I’ll return in the morning and bring balms for your spotted friends and fix what I can with their pox also. And bring you three new pennies.”
Tobias leapt down into the grave and drew out the ties from the white bear’s harness.
Granoldi wriggled out from the leathers and scrambled up onto the dirt standing full height beside them. His imposing frame seemed more obvious in the moonlight.
“Very well” the old priest conceded. “Let us conclude our transactions with agreement, and depart. You can just leave her where she is and I will see to it that the digger covers her over in the morrow.”
“We had some prayers prepared” objected Murmur. Meanwhile the hounds were bristling at the sight of Granoldi. They shivered and growled, cowering to the protection of the men.
“Best be going then” they conceded, believing him at his word that she would still be in the plot by morning.
- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances
The men looked at one another. Francis knew they had no groats to give. Murmur shuffled his feet with the numbness crawling in - he wanted to go home.
Granoldi groaned deeply out from the trench, as he was still lying in its slump, attached to the cart and corpse.
“Your hounds have the weevils” said Francis, inspecting the top of the largest one’s head. His tone was respectful. The dialogue was naturally coming to an end, as none of the men were enjoying the cold.
“I’ll return in the morning and bring balms for your spotted friends and fix what I can with their pox also. And bring you three new pennies.”
Tobias leapt down into the grave and drew out the ties from the white bear’s harness.
Granoldi wriggled out from the leathers and scrambled up onto the dirt standing full height beside them. His imposing frame seemed more obvious in the moonlight.
“Very well” the old priest conceded. “Let us conclude our transactions with agreement, and depart. You can just leave her where she is and I will see to it that the digger covers her over in the morrow.”
“We had some prayers prepared” objected Murmur. Meanwhile the hounds were bristling at the sight of Granoldi. They shivered and growled, cowering to the protection of the men.
“Best be going then” they conceded, believing him at his word that she would still be in the plot by morning.
- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances
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