Flashback Live Meat and Dead Meat 2

[Mittle]

...

83 Fall 516

It was still warm for an early autumn evening as both men walked purposefully down the cobbled road. More people were out than usual that time of year but they'd just have to deal with it as a matter of course.

"So I usually wait around the Heap coz there's always something happening there."

"I .. uh." Mitt couldn't quite voice his full hesitation about that area. Stalker said he'd kill him personally if he ever crossed past there. Nervous dark blue eyes peered through the last rays of the setting sun and he didn't see any sign of the Watcher. Although that certainly didn't mean he wasn't there, or would show up there later.

"I know it's a creepy place kid but-"
"No it's not just that." Mitt said in a quiet voice. "I kinda made an enemy of someone if I cross the line over there."

The tall man gave a brief laugh.
"Kid we all got enemies breathing down our necks in every corner of Sunberth! Welcome to the gods damn club."
Basher looked at Mitt with a serious frown and asked,

"Seriously you know I don't walk too many places alone at night in this city. Not if I can help it. Now Rat fired my brother so that means I need you to have my back Hammer." He paused and looked face to face with him. "I know you're twelve years younger than me, but because you're my partner each night, we keep each other safe, no matter what." He put a large hand on each of Mitt's shoulders.

"I gotta trust you to always have my back every chime we're out here. Can I trust you with my life?"

The sixteen year old tried and failed to keep the look of shock off his face but he held the brown eyes with his own. Mitt took a deep breath and answered with conviction,
'Yes you can, or at least I'll die trying. You can count on me."

"Thanks Mitt."

The teen just nodded as he realized that it was probably the first time the guy had ever used his real name. With his thoughts drifting off to only the Gods knew where, night crept in around the city and the nightlife began in earnest.

As two of the tallest guys walking down that block, they were given a pretty decent amount of space. Two large tall guys dressed in black walking at night in the city? No one was gonna walk within spitting distance of them. While Rat had made it pretty clear who his goons were, he still ran only a small operation within Daggerhand territory. So even though it was technically fine to go where ever you wanted to, at least the local group did know each member of Rat's guys and girls so they could step in to help. But once you crossed the Heap, you were on your own.

Mitt had no idea that Stalker's warning was just a deterrent to protect the teen from his own dumb actions. They stood on the diagonally opposite corner from the Heap and made sure their hoods were on if nothing else. Both of them each had a small bag of supplies tied to their belts but they weren't given any weapons to do whatever it was that needed doing that night.

"Ok so the hardest part is waiting. This four block area has five pubs and two brothels so anyone of those could be leads." Basher kept looking around him on full alert. "Some of them's as go home about now and then head out to somewhere with a pocket full o' money. That's when thieves hit-usually Daggerhand. You know our guys, so if they take one out, then he or she is fair game for us."

Mitt nodded, taking it in but he was still nervous as al hells. How the hells do you just walk around openly with a dead body to get to the surgeon? That was the most important part wasn't it?

"And do we just watch someone get ganked and walk off out in the open with a freshly dead body?"
"Kinda, yea. Depends when and where it happens really. It's a little too early to pretend it's a drunk passed out friend at least for another few bells. And don't immediately rush over to it until whoever it is, fully kicks the bucket. I've been caught out a couple times doing that."

The night eventually grew colder and they both gratefully put on their warm heavy cloaks and gloves. It wasn't just for protection against the elements obviously.

"Oh and keep an eye out for Watchers too."
"What? No way." he denied scornfully.
"Some of the ones in the biggest danger are smart enough to hire a Watcher from half a block behind them. I don't know much about 'em but I do know that."

Mitt stayed quiet and thought about that little gold nugget of wisdom for a few chimes. Just how much did Basher know about them? He thought they were all mysterious until he got a single night with them. Should he share what little he knew? Or would Basher already know what the teen did? How much exactly was guess work for those who hadn't worked with them?

'Whatcha know about Watchers?"
"They get paid the big bucks. Stone cold killers."
He gave Basher a flat stare.
"As compared to us....?"

"They enjoy it though. And they got a secret underground group that runs though the tunnels under the city."

"Really?" Mitt tried to scrutinize his features beneath the hood. What a load of horse shit.
"As bad as all that?"

"Whatever your thinkin' kid, they're even worse than that!"

Hmm. They didn't seem underhanded, over- organized or savage killers. They had a strict no public violence policy. How much else did Basher think he knew?

Basher whispered to him,
"If we get only one, we won't get paid much. Two would be a good night. Three or more, we could only hope to be so lucky. It's pay day for most places so it does up our chances pretty good though."



WC 1,032

[Mittle]

...

A bent over old woman slipped out from the corner on the east side, from the direction of Brega's which couldn't possibly be a coincidence. Although she was dressed in rags like anyone else and her hair was long and grey, her step was both quick and graceful. With no gloves on, her slim young hands were a marked distinction from her superficial appearance.

Two lean black clad men in dark cloaks slipped in behind her, each one covering a side of the alley way she was about to pass. A gust of wind suddenly whipped back the hood from one of them, to reveal that it was Raymin! Fantastic. Mitt choked back a huff of irritation as the redhead pulled the hood back up but kept his keen eyes on the mark.

One of them moved in to grab the woman's hand, cutting it off to separate her from the large bag of coins while the other slit her throat in a swift upward cut. In less than half a chime, she lay dead on the cobbles. As her blood seeped along the dirty stones, the woman's wig had fallen to the ground to reveal long blonde hair. She looked familiar somehow but Mitt couldn't quite place where he knew her from. Basher held a hand back at him, urging him to wait for a full two chimes. No one else was in sight in any of the four directions. Five counting the alley way.

Raymin and his accomplice made off with what had to be the biggest bag of gold Mitt had ever seen in his short life. As they were about to run out of sight, Ray turned his head to look directly at Mitt and put a sly finger over his mouth in a shushing motion. And he gave a grin of pure malice.

If anyone was a stone cold killer who enjoyed it, that was Raymin for sure.
"C'mon!" Basher whispered urgently, running toward the downed figure with quick steps. Mitt started to follow and Basher almost tripped looking back at him with a glare but they finally made it across the street.

"You run like a fuckin' cart horse! Keep it down!"
"Sorry! Now what?"

Basher turned over the woman onto her back and Mitt knew where he recognized her from. That was the same blonde girl from his night at Brega's after working the Bull for the Sheep Run!

The older man folded the severed stump over so it was tucked into her own cloak pocket to soak up the bloodied limb and he dumped the girl onto Mitt's chest.

"Hold her like you would a sleeping lover. We're walking to the surgeon's now. It's nine blocks from here so let's get stepping."

He looked over at Basher, still trying to take it all in. She was light, even with the weight of her long cloak and he tried not to look down at her. His hands shook as he carried her and he was glad for the large cloak that hid his face.

To any possible passersby, it looked like nothing more than a family taking their sister home to sleep it off and no one gave them a second glance.

"I'll take the heavier guys if we get one, but I figured I'd do ya the favor of it being a lighter girl."

Mitt wasn't quite able to answer so he just nodded. Now his knees trembled along with both his hands and he shifted the literal dead weight more firmly in front of him. Her head lolled to the front of his chest as if sleeping and his face was wet beneath the hood.

"Nice. She looks good and asleep all gentle like."

A lump formed and stayed in his throat as he walked heavily down the street, his boots clomping loudly with each step. Basher gave him a nudge in the ribs.

"Get a move on. If we get it there within three bells and it ain't gone stiff yet, we get a full five gold each!"

"She." he choked out.
"Huh? Wake up and get the lead out kid!"

Mitt shook his head and put his energies into walking much faster,. In another shift of temperature, Autumn's fickle chill night wind blew through them but Mitt didn't really notice it. It was just too much to take in lately. Every night's work seemed to get uglier and that much harder and he wasn't sure if he could keep it up.

"Surgeon's over here on the right. Not sure which door he'll want tonight though." Basher said, giving three quiet raps on the door. A capped maid opened the door and took in the sight of the pair of them.

"How long?" she queried in a low tone.
"Just over a bell."
"Bring it 'round to the back door through the alley way. Surgeon will be right with ya." She said, closing the door in their faces.

They walked around the building and the same woman as earlier opened the door as soon as they got near. Basher apparently knew the protocol as he gave Mitt a hard shove to get him quickly in the surgeon's room so the woman could close the door immediately behind them.

"Put it on the table over here." she said to Mitt and Basher as she went to fetch the surgeon.

The doctor entered and instantly took in the state of the body.

"Did you keep the hand?"
"Yeah. It's in her pocket." Mitt answered in a husky whisper.

"So this a fresh one. Can't be much more than a bell hmm?"
"Just barely over a bell now." Basher answered.
"Know anything about it?"
"She worked at Brega's." Mitt replied in a broken voice.

"So it won't be missed then. Perfect. We can use this one for this morning's class in four bells." said the doctor. He gestured to the nurse and she started stripping the body for cleaning and prep.

He walked over to them and Mitt glared at him from beneath his hood.
"That's five gold for each of you. Send in more if you find them. The fresher the better." The man gave them each five gold coins and turned his back in an obvious dismissal.

Mitt stood there just staring at the guy and again, Basher shoved him through the door as it closed behind them with a slam.

"Keep moving Hammer." he said in a brusque tone. "We can't be seen hanging around here."

The teen glared at him stomped off in a random direction, clearly done with this whole sickening mess.

"Wrong way bone head. It's back to the Heap." he scolded, walking along side him.

"What's with you?"
"I knew her okay?"
"Hey kid, I'm sorry but this is just business, ya know?"

"No. I'm done with this whole shitty thing." Mitt retorted angrily, and kept stomping his way down the street.

"We ain't got a choice kid."
"Yes we do."
"Oh really?"
"Yes really. We just walk away and say we're done. That's it."
"That simple huh?"
"Yeah, Basher, it's that simple."
"And then what do we do when Rat turns us in for all the illegal shit we've done over the last how many years...?" Basher replied in a quiet almost scared voice.
"What?"
"Rat didn't do these things. He sent us out, but -we- did them."


WC 1233 Total WC 2,265

[Mittle]

...

Mitt was flummoxed and had no idea how to respond to something like that. He walked blindly beside Basher, the world around him entirely unheeded. He was well and truly trapped in this cycle and he couldn't think of any way out of if short of Rat's death- or his own.

"Psst!'" He hissed at the teen and gestured to a man slumped over near a garbage pile.
"Is he just a passed out drunk? Or a bum?"
"Dunno, but he's not making any cold air for breathing."
"I don't see any Watchers, do you?"
"Nuh uh."

A small group of people approached the area and walked on the opposite side of the cobbled road. They kept a smart distance from the pair of tall dark cloaked men so Mitt took the opportunity to call out to the figure on the ground.

"C'mon dad, wake up. You drank too much again."
Basher grinned as they approached the man who was definitely dead. There was no other person in sight and the two quickly moved in to assess the situation further.

"Is he long dead do ya think?"
Mitt nudged the cold hand with a wary foot and it was almost frozen to the ground.

"Definitely kicked the bucket and he's gonna make that peeling sound when ya move him."

"Blech." they both said, almost at the same time. Basher peeled away the body from the cold stone beneath it with the ripping sound that seemed overly loud in the still night air. He knelt and lifted the icy body with a grunt and a solid shift, slinging him over his shoulder. The sixteen year old watched with new appreciation at the example of raw strength that he could even lift the dead body of a guy that had to be at least twice Mitt's weight!

They were only just over five blocks from the surgeon's so at least it wasn't as far of a trek this time. Basher was shuffling his feet and Mitt had a feeling he was working up a sweat carrying that kind of massive weight.

A small familiar looking woman stepped out in front of Basher and tugged at his one large free hand.

"You helping more people Sebastian?"
"Yeah Ma."
"Such a good boy." she said with approval. Looking up, she could clearly see Mitt's face beneath the hood. She looked vaguely familiar...

"Aw aren't ya the tall execution cleaner boy with the big ears? I remember ya. I'm still a cooker."
"Yes ma'am." Mitt answered and nodded, not sure how to act in front of what seemed like Basher's- Sebastian's mother.

"You teaching him how to help people out too?"
"Yea Ma." He answered, his face turning red beneath the hood.
She looked back up at Mitt.
"And have -you- helped bring someone where they needed to go tonight?"

Mitt shuffled a foot and looked evasively away to the left.
"Yea Ma, he helped a nice lady he knew."
"While I'm not happy with Rat firing Grom, it's good to know you've got someone to keep ya safe at night."

Basher again shifted the extremely heavy weight on his shoulder and sweat soaked his collar and the bottom edges of his hood.

"What's yer name?" She asked the teen, her tiny little face peering up at him.
"Hamm-" Instantly Basher nudged him and he corrected himself,

"Mitt ma'am."

"Good boys. And you're gonna keep my boy safe- right?" she asserted strongly, putting up a tiny hand to pet the teen on the forearm a few times in approval.

"Mmhm." Mitt nodded.

She turned back to Basher and concluded,
"I'll se ya in the mornin' then Sebastian." With that, she set off across the road and walked into the doorway barely five paces from where they stood.

The older man immediately started shuffling forward, but it was clear that the brief conversation while holding that much weight was taking its toll on even Basher's strength.

"Did ya want me ta try for the last block ta--"Mitt was immediately interrupted by Basher taking him up on his offer before he even finished giving it, dumping the huge guy onto his back.

"OOF!" he grunted in surprise, nearly collapsing under the sudden massive load.

His knees almost buckled under what had to be he guessed about three hundred pounds of dead meat. Mitt hunched his back to round it out, tucked his chin to his chest and tried to disperse the weight a little. The body hadn't quite gotten fully stiff yet so that had to be better for the money's sake.

"Thanks Hammer. It's easier ta carry if you're moving. But Ma, well, she loves pushing her weight around like that ta tease me. She knows what we're doing though. I don't really keep too much from her. The only thing she'll forbid of me is lyin'. She's not the wilting flower type, ya know."

He could neither spare the breath to talk or have the freedom of movement to nod either. The heavy body's feet kept sliding to drag the ground behind him and he panted as they eventually got within a block of the surgeon's place. Just a little bit farther. He could do it.

After what felt like an eternity, they made it to the back door of the surgeon's office and Basher took the weight from Mitt with a grunt and a swing. Mitt almost face planted into the side of the dirty wall with the sudden release. He leaned against it, panting and sweating heavily.

Basher knocked and the maid ushered them in, motioning to Mitt to hurry up and looked out the door before she slammed it closed. Too tired to do much more than stand there, he leaned wearily against the wall for the few brief chimes it took for the doctor to enter the room.

The blonde woman was now under a flimsy cloth with only her feet and hair sticking out at the ends.

The huge dead guy smacked the table with a floor shaking thump as Basher released him and the maid jumped back in startled surprise.

"About two or just under three bells for this one as rigor mortis hasn't yet set in. It's big too." The doctor said, lifting one of the eyelids to look at it more closely.

Leaning against the wall, Mitt shuddered at the staring dead eye and looked away in disgust.

"Any info?" the doctor prompted.
"it was a bouncer at Brega's. Just a little over forty and a heavy drinker." Basher answered, apparently knowing exactly who it was, which was news to Mitt.

"Alright then." the doctor acknowledged, taking out ten more gold to divide between them. He paused and looked at Mitt with distaste.

"Don't slouch your big filthy self against my clean surgery walls you deleterious thug."

With a tired sigh, the teen stood up to his full height and snatched his share of the money angrily from the doctor's hand.

'At least I'm not the one buying and hacking up dead bodies like they were never people.' he thought resentfully. Hypocrite.





WC 1,185 Total WC 3,450

[Mittle]

...

"We're not gonna run into anyone else that we know, are we?" Mitt asked, wiping the sweat from his face with a tired forearm.

"Hope not. It's not usually this crowded this time o' night but it -is- pay day for steady workers. Wait didn't you get paid at the Foundry too?"

"Yea but he cut my wages in half so I'm practically working for free now."
"That sucks."
"I'm hoping if I use the money I've been saving with stuff like the hazard pay from the other night, then I can get a Watcher and my pay will go back up to normal."
The older man looked dubiously at Mitt and answered cautiously,
"I guess so. But just be careful around those guys. I've heard a lot of bad stuff about 'em."
"Ok, I will." Mitt smiled beneath his hood.

There were a fair amount of people on the streets, despite it being about three bells. Basher and Mitt's foot steps eventually echoed across the road as they headed closer to one of the worst parts of town.

Companionably, they walked in silence for a few more blocks and were glad that they'd each made the anticipated night's total for both of them. It hadn't been easy, not by a long shot, but it was still far better than... that place. He'd never go back there and it made him angry just thinking about it.

They were only a block from the Heap when they saw two guys over in the alley way, so they stepped back into the shadows as quickly as they could to stay unseen. It was just far enough away to watch but stay hidden, but then again, neither of them could hear anything that was said between the couple. Considering what they were fighting about, it was probably for the best, for all concerned. That is until things turned ugly.

A well dressed man of medium height looked..gods damn familiar. Mitt immediately whispered,
"Ain't that the soulless creep from the auction last night?"
"Looks like him."

They watched the guys argue back and forth, with one of them looming over the auctioneer who backed himself against the wall.
"Lover's spat, I betcha." Basher mused, leaning back against the fence as they continued watching.

The taller one moved toward the other guy and something caught with a shining flash of gold metal in the dim light. Recognizing it as one of the collars he'd seen just last night, Mitt inhaled swiftly in surprise. The taller man was wearing an immaculate long white cloak and could have easily passed as nobility.

The auctioneer yanked on a chain and the taller man had no choice but to move forward. Mitt blessed the darkness as he really didn't want to see any details of what they would most likely do.

The young teen turned away and just looked at Basher instead as he watched. He must have felt Mitt's eyes on because he turned half way toward him and scolded,

"Pay attention kid. I think we're about to have one or maybe even two more."

"Say what?" he asked, his dark blue eyes going back to what looked like a choking contest between the feuding men in the alley.

The taller one grabbed the leash and wrapped it savagely around the other's throat, though the auctioneer refused to let go! What the hells were they playing at?! They watched the struggle as both of the guys refused to let go and eventually both sagged to the ground.

"What the flying fuck was that?!"
"I think the guy was tired of wearing a collar. Remember to wait two full chimes before we move in."
"Do we have to go in at all?" Mitt asked, feeling a bit queasy.
The older man quelled him with a stern look.
Only the wind could be heard and no one else -alive- was in sight but Basher and Mitt.

"That's two Hammer! We're making money tonight!" He said, moving in toward the alley way. As they approached it appeared Mitt's original assessment was right, as was Basher's.

Bending over the bodies, Mitt immediately removed the sleek gold collar and threw it hard directly against the wall, to rip it off completely with the leash.

"Hey we could get a small fortune with that!" Basher scolded him and picked it up to quickly put it in his pocket.

"I don't want it!"
"They're wearing some pretty valuable stuff ya know."
Mitt bent over the dead auctioneer and suddenly felt breath on the left side of face!

"He's fuckin' alive!"
"Get me to the doctor and you can have all the gold on me! Just be quick!" he gasped out raggedly, through the ugly gaping wound on his neck.

"Grab him and go Hammer, you know the way. I'll get this taller one here and be right behind ya."

Attempting to sling him over his shoulder the man whispered,
"Carry me gently Hamish sweetie, I'm not a sack of potatoes."

The teen rolled his eyes hard and picked him up as he would a girl or a child and started jogging toward the surgeon's office. About half way through the nine blocks of jogging while carrying the guy, Mitt felt two hands placed on his chest and the guy looking up at him.

'Are you kidding me right now?!' Mitt thought, irritated and ready to drop the gods damned little creep. Mitt ran harder, his heavy boots stomping the other four and half blocks to reach the surgeon's place.





WC 924 Total WC 4,374

[Mittle]

...

He heard Basher's steps behind him carrying the other guy and turned to see him bringing the body around the back.

"Get on with it." He prodded Mitt brusquely and turned to knock on the back door.

The tall teen rapped on the front door with a heavy boot and the capped maid opened the door with a look of recognition for Mitt's burden. The guy reached up and pulled down Mitt's hood, baring his face for everyone to see.

"The fuck ya do that fer?!" Mitt growled angrily, trying to move his head away but his arms and hands were full.
"We should all see the face of my rescuer sweetie."

"Bring Mr. Sidney in this way to the inner corridor." the maid said, leading the pair of them.

His loud footsteps echoed through the long corridor which eventually led to a bright clean room with expensive looking furniture.

"Place me sweetly in the red chair darling, it's the softest." Mitt walked to the chair and just dumped him unceremoniously onto it, swiftly backing away as far as he could get in the small waiting room.

"Ouch! Don't get uppity with me you crass, brainless, brute of a heathen!" the auctioneer admonished him with a lisp.

'Did the guy have a cleft palate on top of being a soulless creep?' Why the hells did he talk like that?' Mitt wondered. As much as he wanted to just walk away, the tantalizing promised hint of potentially good money was the most important thing on his tired mind. It was near the fifth bell and he'd have to haul ass in time to make it home for breakfast and work, even if he could leave right this chime. Which of course, he couldn't.

Sidney readjusted his sleeves and knocked a fleck of dirt from one of his boots. His eyes lingered on Mitt with a leering, smirking smile.

"Are you one of those Hammy darling?"
"One o' what?" Mitt snapped, not really caring or wanting to talk to Sidney.
"Are you afraid I'll get you, or I'll be contagious?"
"I don't care where ya dip yer wick. I care that ya buy and sell people for sex but ya treat them like nothing but cattle." he retorted angrily. He was way too tired for this shit. That little creep scumbag better pay handsomely for this night's work, for all the trouble.

"What -I- do is totally legal. While I'm sure that most of the things you do are most definitely not..." Sidney said in a smug, condescending way. "Besides darling Hamish, if there were no demand, there would be no supply. It's that simple."

The surgeon entered and greeted Sidney, not looking at all surprised by the marks on his throat.

"This is the second time this season Sidney. One of these days, they're going to actually kill you."

"Then at least I'll still die with a smile, won't I Doctor Pierce?"

The surgeon said nothing as he waited for the capped maid to come in and lay out his instruments. She almost ran into Mitt slouching against the wall and she looked between each of the men.

"Is that thug your latest pet Sidney?' Asked the doctor, seeming to voice the maid's thoughts. "if so, he's in desperate need of a louse bath at the very least, or any bathing at all for that matter."

Mitt put his hood back up and looked down at the floor, again taking the usual shit talk about him in silence. It had been a long night, it was his only time to sleep and he had an even longer day ahead of him at the Foundry.

"Honey, I obviously don't choose them for their ability to think. Besides, he's my rescuer. He saved my life this morning." Sidney laughed and the nurse scolded him to sit still while she numbed and debrided the area.

"Stand there and just be some pretty scenery to take my mind off this unpleasantness Hamish darling." Sidney ordered. "There's plenty of gold in it for you -if- you wait until I'm done here."

The doctor and nurse said nothing at all in reference to Sidney's antics and carried on with the stitching and cleaning, the instruments clinking back onto the tray. For a half a bell, the silence was almost complete. Which had Mitt's head nodding down further and further until his chin rested on his chest. The exhausted teen started a light doze standing up, taking advantage of the inactivity and quiet while he could.

Mitt woke up to someone stroking the hair behind his ear and down his neck.

"Hands off!" he shoved the hand away, waking up and opening his dark blue eyes widely.

Looks like Sidney could magically stand and walk on his own again. Creep.

"As much as I adore the pouty look sweetie, you really should watch your temper. You still want that gold hmm?"

Mitt stepped back three paces and nodded tiredly.

"Alright follow me pet." Sidney said, heading out the front door with the tall teen in step behind him.

"How old are you Hamish?"
"I'll be seventeen in about a moon." he answered, his mind and body pretty much on autopilot now.

"You know I could use a personal body guard, if you'd like to earn some extra gold." Sidney dangled the carrot before the horse.

"What?" Mitt answered stupidly, too tired to make much sense right now.
The auctioneer sighed at the boy's obviously thick-headed nature and replied,
"Lots of money to be my body guard, pretty boy."
"Mhm. Sure.." he agreed sleepily. 'Wait, what? No." he tried to stir himself awake but even youth had its limits.

"I don't, won't work for a slaver."
"But you're a murderer over a few mere coppers for the joy of it?" Sidney retorted with contempt.
"Where's my gods damn money?"

Basher popped out the back door as the two rounded the corner.
"Don't let him tease you about mounds of gold filled pockets Hammer. He tried that on me five years ago."

"You're not so young and cute anymore Basty honey. I'd shut your murdering mouth if I were you..." Sidney said in a sinister threat.

"Just give the kid all the gold on ya, like ya promised and we'll go. Now." The very large, tall man loomed over Sidney, dwarfing him by over a foot.

Sidney turned to Mitt and said with a honeyed tone,
"Fine. I'll give you the fifty one gold I have on me right now, but you could earn twice that a day, just working for me, Hammer.. Brutish nickname. I'll give you a day to think about it." He held out the pouch brimming with gold and placed in Mitt's hand. He sauntered away with not a care in the world, not bothering to look back.



WC 1142 Total WC 5,516