[ AW ] Feathered Delivery

ain't no crying 'till the war's done The rolling hills of Edinburgh stretched out around Osiris, as the squawking of the birds that he was transporting in their cages rang out behind him. The cart was attached to him via braided vines, fixed into a harness that made it easier to transport the number of feathered friends that he was. There were about five different birds in the cages on the cart, each squawking at the others. The evening sun was comfortable, and he’d only been traveling for about an hour at this point. The man had waited until the sun was on its way down from its peak, not wanting to burn the sensitive skin that he possessed during the worst of the day. The heat, however, still hung heavy around him, the humidity making it somewhat uncomfortable even beneath the summer coat that he now held. His fur was still too thick for the heat, but, it was what it was in this case. He kept himself — and his cart — to one side of the path, although it was impossible not to take up most of the small trail. It didn’t seem to be much of a problem, however, as the road was fairly empty. Only a few souls — many like himself and not wanted on the war front — remained behind, but business still went along as normal for those that remained home. Osiris knew that he wouldn’t be welcomed entirely by Jacob’s army, despite the fact that he knew how to fight. His burnt leg and limp gave him reason to stay at home, however, and keep the aviary running. Most of the aviaries now were run by those too old or permanently injured to tackle the war efforts. He had gotten a raven a few days before stating that the Edinburgh aviary was in need of some new ravens, a few of the older ones no longer doing as they were needed to do, their old wings no longer suitable for the flights that they had to take. It was fine with Osiris — he would take them new ones, and take back the birds no longer able to do their jobs and give them a home back in Ayr, where they could live out the rest of their days. He just needed to get there first. “my sin, my soul.”

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It was the incessant squaking of birds that stirred Killigan up. The first few chirps and calls he could ignore, but when there was a harmony of sorts piercing through the still air of Edinburgh.
Bored, per usual, and eager to land his paws in a new mystery prompts the red eyed Killigan to seek the source of the noise.

Birds knew the way of the lands and knew when a disaster was about to strike. If this was the cause, at least it would give Killigan a running start toward shelter.

He draws closer to the road, where he wanted to get an open view of the land and sky, but he's met with another unsuspecting sight.
Escorted with a cage and cart trudges a white wolf, walking with a limp and unaware of Killigan's approaching presence.

Killigan can put two and two together– this guy must be a bird keeper or something. But that's a hell of a lot of birds in there. No luck in selling them?

"You ever think about eating those things?" Killigan calls out, his voice completely serious and genuine, though there's an odd smirk on his face.

He continues forward, inviting himself into the space of the traveling alabaster wolf. Once close enough, Killigan pushes his snout toward the gaps of the cage to get a closer look at the feathery beings.

He wondered what a beak tasted like.

ain't no crying 'till the war's done Osiris kept tugging the cart along, until another figure came into view. Slowly, he pulled off to the side, intending to allow the other to pass, until they spoke. He looked up, his good eye searching for the figure until they were found. Another man. “You ever think about eating those things?” The man asked. Osiris blinked, shaking his head slightly. “No,” he answered honestly. “They are my livelihood. It’s in poor taste t’ eat what makes you money.” He offered a small chuckle, eyeing the man as he came closer. He shouldered his way out of his harness, taking a step or two back to create slack on the line until he could get out of it. He turned his head once more, seeking out the other man. “I wouldn’t get too close if I were you. That one likes to peck,” Osiris warned, eyeing the man suspiciously. “my sin, my soul.”

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Killigan listens to the white wolf speak, nodding and humming along as his eyes never tear from the ruffled feathers of the avians. Honestly, Killigan had no idea what sorry wolf wasted good coin on birds for other than snack on it for the long road home. How hard is it to go out and hunt?
Just when he places a paw onto the ground to close the distance, the bird squawks out viciously. The wolf lays his ears back with astonishment, but laughs wildly at the smaller creature.

The man is convinced, his mind flips like a switch.

"I want one." Killigan shares through a light chuckle, "In fact, I want the one that jus' screamed at me."

He rounds the cage until he stands right near the bird seller, teeth grazing the flap of his leaf satchel. No coin, but some herbs and fungus to perhaps barter with. Killigan shields the contents of his satchel from the stranger's eyes, giving his best smile and straightening his back.

He's willing to conduct business all for this bird.

"What's your price, my friend?" The trader begins, licking his lips free of the drool that seeps off of them, "Or, we can barter, make things interestin'."

Killigan leans his neck back to view the bird that now seems to glare at him like he's dung blocking the path.

"Your call."
--
@Osiris

ain't no crying 'till the war's done Osiris felt his heart sink slightly, down into the pit of his stomach as the other listened to what he said. Osiris knew bad situations when they arose — he’d been in far too many of them to count by this point in his life, and in truth… He could almost smell the trouble on the younger wolf. The albino man snarled slightly, a soundless expression upon his scarred visage as the other stepped forward and the bird let out an angry caw. They could sense it too, that this wolf was not good. “I want one. In fact, I want the one that jus’ screamed at me,” the younger man said. The other moved closer to him and fiddled around with a bag that Osiris could not see into. “What’s your price, my friend? Or, we can barter, make things interestin’... Your call” the younger wolf said. Osiris shook his head slightly, an ear pinning back as the other licked his drool-covered lips. “They’re not for sale, these birds are already spoken for,” Osiris stated bluntly, watching the man. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way. These birds are designated to one of the aviaries here.” “my sin, my soul.”

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Killigan's smile fades when the bird seller has the gall to reject him. A wave of doubt washes over Killigan, slowly replaced by a need of 'justice'. This was unfair.
He slowly gathers to his paws, scoffing multiple times, trying to decipher whether or not this was really happening. What Killigan wants, Killigan gets!

"They're not goin' anywhere. And neither are you." The livid wolf threatens, baring his teeth as he lowers himself into a battle position, "Give me a bird. Right now. Or I'll gladly take them all off of your paws!"

--Start of Battle--
@Osiris

ain't no crying 'till the war's done The battle was fierce but short-lived. For all the other man’s big talk, he didn’t amount to much in battle — a fact that Osiris attributed to his time outside of Rionnach. The reasons for his scars, and his burnt leg. As he looked at the fallen man, knocked out on the ground, he twitched an ear apathetically. Shaking his head slightly, the albino man turned, shouldering his way back into his harness. “Your fate is something you sealed yourself,” he tossed over his shoulder — if someone came along and robbed the man, that was his own damn fault. There’s a simple lesson to be learned here: don’t fuck around, if you’re not prepared to find out. Osiris shook himself slightly, before he threw his weight against his harness, the birds cawing as they were pulled into motion. He had another couple of hours before he reached his delivery place. He hoped it was a quick trip, and he could be on his way back home soon enough. He would take a different way home. [ exit, osiris ] “my sin, my soul.”

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